by Liz K. Lorde
In the crook of his collarbone, I settle my cold little nose and my trembling lips. My breath against him there forms a little pocket of humidity. It allows me to regain a little feeling to my stinging cheeks and wind burnt face.
My freezing fingers, swollen and bright pink and chilled through, I tuck beneath his arms. Jack has thick, dense hair that covers the surface of his armpits, but to my surprise, it’s oddly soft. I wind my fingers into its warmth, bringing the smell of Jack’s sweat and musk all around me.
He smells good. No, he smells better than good. This isn’t a Calvin Klein sampler gift bag at fashion week.
Jack is a man.
All man.
I know basic biology. I’ve heard of pheromones before. But there’s a difference between knowing and understanding, and suddenly, inhaling Jack’s scent, I understand completely.
There’s something inside me, some cavewoman part of my brain, that’s broadcasting the message to the rest of my body that Jack isn’t just a source of warmth right now. That maybe, if I’m good and sweet and grateful to him for his daring rescue, he might be a source of something else—something more promising.
Now my body twists against him with newfound purpose. I shove my breasts against his ribs, feeling my hard, cold nipples make quiet demands against the heat of his skin. My stomach finds his hip, and when I shift myself a little more, it finds his—his—
His cock.
His huge, throbbing, iron ingot of a cock, so hot it’s as if it was just pulled straight out of the forge, so long that it lays against me from pelvis to rib cage.
Jack’s cock. Jack’s gorgeous, terrifying, mountain man cock.
I whimper at the thought of it. I whimper again even louder as I buck my hips up and Jack’s balls settle in the little valley between my thighs. He grunts, and his cock twitches against me.
He likes that, I realize. Jack likes having my cold little body pressed up against his hard, steaming-hot cock.
But he doesn’t like it enough, it seems. He pulls his hips away, and I feel my heart break into a thousand pieces all at once.
No! I think, my mind racing in desperation. I need that cock! Jack! Please!
But I don’t say that. I don’t beg. Instead, I press myself against him even harder, winding my long, cold legs around his calves and entangling my cold little feet with his.
I can feel Jack breathing now, with our bodies intertwined like this. He’s taking slow, steady, deliberate breaths, in an effort to regain self-control. Like he’s trying hard to stop himself from wanting something that we both know we need right now.
But I need his body heat. His warmth. I’m frozen to my core, and the only thing that can help me now is being filled with his cock and pumped full of his lava-hot cum.
I rub my body against his, making small little moans of need. I want him. And I know—I know from the way his breath goes all ragged when I do it—that he wants me too.
Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I can feel his hot palms pressing against my shivering cold spine, but it’s just not enough. I need to feel warmth from the inside, to feel it coursing through my veins.
I can’t handle him being impartial, unmoving, so much like this mountain that he loves so much. I’ve been waiting for far too long. He’s a hot, red-blooded man and I’m a woman who wants to take his cock, cum, pleasure and pain.
And if there’s one benefit of being a little rich girl, it’s that I’m very accustomed to getting what I want. Because I know just how to get it.
I wrench my body away from his chest and raise my lips to his. It’s a kiss to end all kisses. The kind of kiss that’s so full of passion and desire and need and longing that the entire universe fixes on the point where our lips meet, and time begins to shift around it.
That’s how it feels for me, anyway.
For Jack, I can see it’s tearing him apart.
“Avery,” he rasps, breaking away by force. “I can’t—you know I can’t.”
“You can!” I insist eagerly, recapturing his lips once more. “Jack—you can! You have to, Jack. I need you!”
“You don’t need me,” he growls against my lips. I can feel his whole body bristling with frustration, all of it directed at me and my advances. “Your fucking brain’s frozen over, little girl. You need warmth right now. Not a man.”
“Don’t tell me what I fucking need,” I glower. “I’m not a fucking child, Jack—”
My body turns beneath his faster than I can react to try and stop him. Not that it would have been any use. Jack is stronger than me. He’s bigger. And as he wraps his hand on my throat, I remember—he’s meaner, too.
“Then why are you fucking acting like one?!” he bellows, mere inches away from my face. “I told you, Avery! I fucking told you what would happen if you went out there—and did you listen? Fuck no, you didn’t! You haven’t listened to a goddamn word I’ve said—”
“I h-have,” I argue. Now I’m shivering with indignation too, but my body can’t hold my rage.
Jack merely shakes his head. His face is so close to mine, his beard tickles against my lips as he does it. It reminds me that, with the two of us naked like this, he doesn’t have all the power here.
Not even close.
My hips shift beneath his, finding purchase on the hard, thick cock he’s trying so hard to keep away from me.
“I w-want you,” I stutter, staring up at him with intensity and pushing the words through my teeth. “And you w-want me too. I can feel it. Stop fighting it.”
Jack closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s trying to count backwards from ten in his head.
He gets to five at best.
“I’ll hurt you,” he warns me. “Tight little virgin like you… Silly fucking girl. This ain’t no starter cock.”
“H-hurt me, then.”
There’s a brief flash in his gaze that tells me he enjoys that idea all too much.
“No condoms,” he tries again. “Last thing a crazy-ass girl like you needs is for a man like me to put a baby inside of her.”
“M-maybe I want that,” I say through curled, trembling lips. “M-maybe I w-want you to put a baby inside of m-me, Jack.”
That makes his cock twitch.
With it, I can feel the last shreds of his restraint fall to the floor like a flag of surrender torn to bits by rifle fire. Finally.
His fingers dart between my legs so fast that it makes me gasp. They’re thick. Two of them. Probing up and down the length of my slit. They catch my clit as he pulls them up and raises them between us.
I feel him inhale. Breathing in my scent. Then, like he did on that first morning with the maple syrup, he offers them to my mouth.
This time, I don’t hesitate.
This time, I suck my sweet, sticky syrup off his fingers and taste myself on his skin.
“You’re wet, little girl,” Jack growls, low and with warning. “But not wet enough.”
Jack’s body slides down mine until his big, overgrown beard is positioned between my pale, trembling thighs. But his hand?
His hand stays right there on my throat.
“Spread yourself,” he commands.
He commands, and I obey. I slip my fingers between my sopping wet pussy lips and spread them open. I’m already so wet, I can’t imagine being any wetter—
Until he breathes on me. A hot breath of humid, life-giving air. I feel it hit the silky pink flesh of my pussy and enter me, spreading warmth up through my body all the way to my fingertips and my toes. For a moment, I’m entirely warm. In that moment, I become wetter than ever.
But then the moment fades. Without his heat, I feel closer to death all over again.
“Please,” I whine, twisting beneath him with need.
It’s all he needs to hear.
His tongue is hot and wet as he devours me, but it’s nothing compared to the honey currently filling up my cunt and spilling out onto the mattress beneath me. He sucks my clit between his lips, lashing out at it wi
th his tongue, but only for a moment.
Suddenly, his tongue is inside me, teasing my maidenhead and drinking from me like I’m the maple syrup he wants to pour on his pancakes in the morning.
It’s so much like it was before…but different too, I realize. Before, there was that spark of fear inside me. Maybe, somewhere beneath all my goosebumps and sore muscles and shivering flesh, it’s there still.
But if it is, it’s frozen over. Turned to ice crystals in the cold.
Then, I feel it: orgasm. Blissful, intense, world-breaking orgasm rising up inside me as Jack pleasures me with his mouth.
It shatters that fear completely, and a fat, glowing, beautiful rose blooms in its place.
I breathe out a ragged breath, cooing and sighing, but then I see Jack’s eyes staring up at me. They’re different from the eyes that I always find quietly gazing at me. These eyes are watching me with a sharpness I’ve never before. Observing from between my thighs. Like a predator stalking his prey.
His fingers tighten around my throat and my whole body goes wild.
“Not so fast, little girl,” he growls. “That’s one.”
Then, he moves up against my body again, and the hairs of his mustache tickle at my ear.
“I’m not finished with you yet.”
Jack
This is wrong, I tell myself as my hard, rough lips clash against Avery’s soft, sweet mouth.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I take her pale, firm breast in my huge, calloused hand and squeeze it so hard she whimpers.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I slap my massive, heavy cock against her cold, trembling skin.
I should be wrapping this girl up in furs and brushing her hair by the fire right now.
I should be carrying her away to a hot, steaming bath.
Instead, I lose myself a little more with every touch. Every kiss. Every fucking response her body has to my every fucking move, and dammit, I know it’s wrong.
I’m going to fucking hurt her.
But she wants you to hurt her.
I’m going to fucking lose control.
Yeah, and she’ll fucking love that.
Avery is a virgin. A virgin snow angel, flung off the mountain and into my over-muscled arms for me to protect. To keep safe. To watch over and shelter from this fucking snowstorm until she leaves me and returns to God’s own loving fucking care.
But instead, here I am. A beast with a hard-on as thick as my clenched fist as I wind her long, silken blonde hair in my fingers. A wolf with sharp teeth and a killer’s conscience poised above her, with nothing but the ill intent in my veins as I howl at her door.
If I take her with my cock, I’m going to split this poor girl in two.
Instead, I use my fingers, sliding them up and down her slit until I’ve turned all that sweet, hot honey into a frothy lather. Her body convulses beneath mine as I stroke her to orgasm.
A second, then a third. A fourth. A fifth.
I can feel her losing control of herself. Slipping away to that daydreamy secret place that women go to when they’ve been properly satisfied. Leaving her old self, the part of her that’s scared of me and knows better than to tempt the fucking Devil himself—leaving that part of her behind.
I’m making her desperate for me under the guise of keeping her safe. Safe from a cock that even now is dripping hot pearls of precum, one after the other, down on her skin.
“Is this what you wanted?” I sneer against her lips. “Is this what you fucking wanted, Avery?”
“Y-y-yes,” she stutters shakily.
She’s still fucking coming. Wanton little slut can’t fucking stop now that she’s started. That only makes me work my fingers against her swollen little clit even harder.
But no—this is Avery we’re talking about. Sweet, virginal little Avery who makes such orgasmic little noises when she stuffs her mouth with my pancakes, closes her eyes and moans like she’s tasting heaven.
There’s something else I want to stuff her mouth with now.
I want to make her taste me. Make her moan like that when it’s my syrup covering her tongue.
But Avery isn’t moaning like that. Oh no, she’s far beyond that now.
Avery is whimpering. Hissing and sobbing like a bitch in heat. Makes my hard cock even harder. Makes me want to make her come so hard and so intensely that it shuts her up for good.
God dammit! This is why I don’t deserve this fucking girl.
This is why I can’t fucking trust myself with her. She’s too good and sweet and pure and I’m too fucking far gone.
I pull my fingers away, determined to end this fucking madness once and for all. I’ll shut myself in the goddamn cellar if I have to. Nail the door shut for good.
Or, more likely, I’ll shut poor fucking Avery here in my bedroom. Sleep on the couch and wait out the storm when I can call her fat cat father or whoever the fuck is responsible for herding prissy-ass society virgins to their pre-approved marital matches. Whatever it takes to keep me from hurting this girl and keeping her stubborn little ass out of harm’s way.
But then, I hear it.
Small and sweet, like the ringing of a bell.
“Jack,” Avery pouts, curling her fingers in my chest hair and pulling herself against me. “P-please…I’m so c-c-cold…”
And just like that, I fucking lose it again. I trap her clit beneath my thumb, working it round and round in harsh little circles that have her hyperventilating in an instant. I take my index finger and work it round and round the tight little mouth of her cunt, stretching her hymen to its limits and pushing past it into a pussy that’s burning hot for me, no matter what Avery says about how fucking cold she is.
A finger. That’s all she can take. And god—she takes it beautifully. Fucking gloriously.
But it’s just a finger. Even a finger as thick and practiced as mine isn’t anything compared to a huge fucking cock forcing its way into that sweet little cunt.
I’ve stretched her out as much as I can.
I’ve made her wet as any woman has ever been for the man she wants.
But if I fuck this girl, I know she’s going to bleed. She’s going to hurt.
She’s going to fucking break.
My cock throbs at the thought of Avery’s virginal blood mixing pink with her honey and my cum. All of it smeared together around the thickness of my base, serving as a lubricant while I churn her hot little pussy like it’s a batch of my homemade fucking butter.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I position my cock against her entrance.
“Please, Jack!” Avery sobs.
This is wrong, I tell myself as I press against her maidenhead, feeling it try to accommodate my girth and fail fucking miserably.
“I’m s-so…so cold…so fucking cold…”
This is wrong, I tell myself as I force myself deeper. Harder. She’s stretched so tight around me, I know that with even so much a tremble of my hips I’ll be inside her and she’ll be in a whole world of regret and pain—
But then, I look down at her. I see the fucking need in her eyes. The desire.
The same fucking fearlessness that sent her barreling down that icy road the night I found her. The same fucking stubborn wanting that sent her trudging out into the snow with no map and no flashlight and no fucking idea what she was going to do next.
Call it bravery. Call it stupidity.
From experience, it’s usually a little bit of both.
But this girl wants me. She fucking needs me. She’s long overdue for a good, hard fucking, and I can’t deny that I’m not so different myself.
Ten fucking years without a woman. Ten years or more.
And now, this sweet little angel wants me. Wants my power and my anger and my big fucking cock and my brute fucking strength.
I see that look in her eye, and I see my own gaze reflected in her icy clear blue irises.
Somewhere in my own reflection, I fucking lose myself.
My cock twitches,
and that’s all it fucking takes.
I see all of the breath leave Avery’s lungs and know that it’s done.
I’ve broken her seal. I’ve signed both our names in blood.
Little did I know that it would unleash the Devil itself when I did.
Not just in me.
In Avery, too.
In both of us.
The instant I’m in, I can’t fucking stop myself. I’m thrusting, hard and angrily with a snarl on my lips. I’m going to make this girl feel every fucking inch of me, and I’m going to watch her take every fucking one.
But Avery isn’t Avery anymore either. Avery is a hellcat now—unhinged, moaning, and desperate for more, more, more. She curls her fingers against my shoulders and rakes her nails down my pack, leaving raw, white-hot paths where she’s made her mark.
Marking me. She’s marking me as hers. My fingers clench around her throat in response, holding her delicate little neck in a way that I know is going to fucking bruise.
Bitch thinks she can mark me? I’ll mark her right back. Mark her, make her mine, and then some.
Sweet little virginal Avery isn’t on birth control, after all.
That gets me harder than ever. She wants to claw up my back, that’s just fucking fine. I’ll pump her womb full of my cum. Then I’ll do it again in ten minutes when my cock is once again hard for her and my balls are once again full of my seed.
Pregnant the first time she’s ever fucked. For some women, that would be just fucking unfortunate. For sweet little Avery, it’s going to be a goddamn honor.
I’ve never fucked a woman pregnant before. And I fucking well warned her, too.
No fucking condoms. Not this far from civilization. Not in this fucking cabin.
And now, with me inside her, there’s no fucking choice.
I try to be gentle. In my brief moments of clarity, I do my best to slow myself. To accommodate for her inexperience and to soothe her pain with the sweet kisses on her lips that a woman like her deserves.
But kissing only makes me harder, and getting harder only pushes me further of the edge.
Vaguely, I am aware that Avery is screaming beneath me. In pain or in ecstasy, I can’t be sure.