by Loki Renard
“Please…” she moaned softly, “please…”
“Tell me what you want…”
She reached back and let her fingers wrap around the shaft of his cock. He was thick and he was long, and he was very hard.
“This…”
Paul let out a soft growl, picked her up, and slid her down to the ground on her hands and knees, one hand in the back of her hair to keep her in place as he rose up behind her, pushed the large swollen head of his cock to the apex of her thighs, and slid into her pussy in one long, forceful stroke that filled her all the way up.
Chloe let out a cry of surprise and desire as she felt herself spread open around his hard flesh, taken in a primal, dominant way she’d never experienced before. Paul’s fingers tightened at the nape of her neck as he began to ride her, thrusting long and slow in and out of her tight pussy, drawing his dick almost all the way out of her before plunging it back as deep as it could go.
“Is this what you needed? You sexy little brat?” His question was growled down at her, half adoring, half lecturing as he fucked her.
“Yes!” There was no point lying. Her body was screaming yes, and her lips wanted to scream the same word too. Being taken from behind had never been one of her favorite positions. It had always felt a little too impersonal. She usually tried to be on top, but Paul had her well in hand and there was nothing impersonal about the way his hot, long cock was sliding in and out of her tight pussy.
He reached around her, cupped her chin with his fingers, and pressed his thumb into her mouth. She suckled dutifully, not knowing what he was doing until he pulled it out of her mouth and put the pad of his now nice and wet thumb to her anus.
She squealed and tried to move forward, but the grip in her hair kept her in place, impaled on his cock as he started toying with her bottom in a way that lacked all of the medical plausibility of their first such encounter.
“Next time you disobey orders, you’ll take my cock here,” he warned, sounding stern and strict. His cock was pulsing deep inside her cunt, and at that moment Chloe would have agreed to almost anything. Everything felt good. She was high on arousal, caught in an erotic haze that made her want to be as submissive as he was dominant.
He started to fuck her harder, his cock pistoning inside her wet channel, the sounds of her juices soaking his rod mingling with the babbling of the stream, her moans, and his more masculine growls of pleasure. His thumb stayed pressed against her anus, reminding her of his dominion over that part of her too.
Chloe came hard, her pussy clenching his cock. She heard Paul let out a strained growl behind her, the effort of riding her through her climax without giving into his own orgasm almost too much. He wouldn’t come inside her, would he? The thought gave extra charge to the pleasure rolling through her tender flesh. She felt like every nerve ending in her body was flashing with erotic fire, her muscles clenching hard and then relaxing with the pulsing waves of her climax. And through it all, Paul’s cock slid in and out of her, the hard rod pounding her through to an elevated state in which the world seemed to drop away entirely and she no longer cared about anything. Not the gritty leaves and twigs beneath her clenching fingers, not the way her knees were pressed against the dirt, not her discomfort or the residual sting on her bottom where the lines of her switching were tingling. For one glorious moment, she was free of everything. Most of all, she was free of herself.
Being able to let the stress of the fame and the fall from grace go was almost better than the physical pleasure that was still coursing through her as Paul reached his own peak, pulled out of her pussy, and held her in place with one hand on her hip as his cum came spurting over her bottom, marking her as his.
“Good girl,” he praised, the two simple words making her feel warm deep inside. He wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, cradling her in his lap. His cum still decorated her bottom, making her skin sticky against his thighs, but he didn’t seem to mind and she was beyond that kind of concern.
Slowly, the erotic haze faded from her mind, and slowly, Chloe realized that a boundary had been crossed. A big one. She’d wanted him so badly, but now her desires had been satisfied, she found herself filled with anxiety. He’d refused to have sex with her earlier; why now? Had she baited him into it? What did it mean?
“I’m not… a slut.”
Her words made his brows lift in surprise. “I didn’t say you were.”
“But maybe you thought it?”
“I didn’t think it either.”
“We barely know each other and I’ve been…” She trailed off. “I slept with you. I just don’t usually do that. And I know everyone says that they don’t, even if they do, but I really don’t and I don’t know why I did…”
“You needed it,” he said, sitting up and pulling her into his lap. She sat, cradled between his crossed legs as he reassured her. “And it’s okay to need contact.”
“That was more than contact,” she said with a little smile half hidden against his broad chest.
“It was, but I think you needed it like you need discipline. Not just the kind where you get your butt warmed and it’s all over. You need more than that. You need to be commanded in every way. You need to have me inside you. To belong to me. You crave it, don’t you, Chloe?”
“Yes,” she admitted softly, her lips against his. She wanted him with everything she was. It felt to her as though there wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t want to touch him, be held by him, be owned by him.
The connection between them was as passionate and intense as it was swift. She’d felt it the moment she met him but not known what it was. She’d thought it was simple lust, but it was so much more than that. It was a desire that was coming from deep in her soul.
She belonged to this man. It wasn’t an abstract concept. It wasn’t a fanciful idea. It was a truth so deep it may as well have been embedded in her DNA.
He kept her in that close embrace, their eyes meeting for a timeless moment in which the sun and the stars spun around them in a dance that no longer mattered. Chloe felt an intensity of existence, an excitement and happiness that flooded her body from head to toe and made her voice tremble and her hands shake, her knees so weak she was fortunate his strong arms were able to keep her aloft.
“You also need to eat,” Paul murmured in her ear. “I have one of those sandwiches. Do you want it now?”
“Yes, please,” she said, humbled. The food she’d refused hours earlier now sounded like manna from heaven.
She heard him rifling around behind her, and then his hand appeared in her face with one of the sandwiches. This time it turned out to be ham and cheese. Though it was not any more appetizing than the one she’d tried earlier that day, she wolfed it down in under a minute. Her hunger was much sharper than it ever had been before. Back at home she could skip meals and not notice, but out here, her body was demanding that she feed it. The emotional and physical stress were already starting to take a toll, and she hadn’t even been out there for twelve hours.
As soon as she finished her sandwich, sating another need, she realized just how heavy her eyelids were. She could easily have fallen asleep in his lap, but Paul had other ideas. He unrolled two sleeping bags, zipped them together, and they both slipped inside. It was a tight fit, their barely clad bodies pressed together against the warm surround of the bag.
Stuffed in the bag, Chloe felt like one of the vacuum-packed sandwiches, all snugly contained with Paul’s strong body wrapped around her, his arm snaking over her waist, pulling her back against the strong, sheltering curve of his body. She usually slept alone and at first didn’t think she’d be able to sleep like that, but again her body surprised her by settling in to sleep with far less trouble than she usually had at home.
Some flight of fancy made her imagine that this was how women must have felt in the very old days, before civilization, before cities and governments, when all anyone had was their strength and their wits. Some primal part of her was move
d by the situation in a way she’d never been moved before. At first she’d been attracted to Paul because he was handsome. Now she was attracted to him because he felt like her protector. He was making parts of her feel safe that had never felt safe. She closed her eyes and let her body sink back into his as sleep took her through the night without waking once.
Chapter Six
The coming of the dawn sun roused Chloe many hours later. She woke feeling more refreshed than she usually did after sleep, and with a brief bout of morning amnesia that left her wondering how she’d fallen asleep with a warm, hard mountain behind her, complete with a protrusion pressing against her soft buttocks. Groggy, Chloe wasn’t quite sure what was happening at first… but her body did. She was wet between her lower lips, arousal slicking the crotch of her leggings. Her response was to squirm her butt back and hope that the morning might begin the way the evening had ended.
“No time for that,” Paul said, patting her bottom as he came to consciousness behind her. “We have to get up and get moving.”
“Do we really have to?” She whined a little. “Can’t we just… go home and get into a hot bath or something?”
“No,” he chuckled. “Sorry, brat.”
“Ugh,” she complained as she crawled out into the chilly dawn, feeling a certain stickiness between her thighs. He had marked her and left more than his scent on her. “I need a shower.”
“Wash in the stream,” Paul said as he emerged behind her. “It’ll be cold, but you’ll feel better.”
“I guess we don’t have any soap?”
He ferreted in his pack and pulled out a small bar of soap, then tossed it to her. She was starting to think that his pack was some kind of magic anomaly from which almost anything could be pulled.
“Is there a towel?”
The pack revealed a small microfiber towel about the same size as a hand towel. It wasn’t much, but Chloe knew there wasn’t much point in asking for something bigger. Washing her hair was going to be out of the question, then. She tied it up in a knot at the top of her head and
Tiptoeing across to the river, Chloe hesitated a moment before pulling off her clothes. He would see her naked. She almost laughed at herself when she realized how silly it was to care about that. He’d been inside her. A little nudity didn’t mean anything. But why did she feel so shy?
The answer came to her almost immediately. The sex had been hot and passionate, but they were still effectively strangers. If they’d been back in civilization, it would have been like waking up after a one-night stand and making the walk or drive of shame back home.
It would have been nice to have had a long hot shower alone to collect her thoughts, but Chloe had about as much hope of privacy as she did of modesty. Both were luxuries she had foregone to take this role, so it seemed, along with comfort, any kind of good food, and god only knew what else. This was life at its most basic, and she hated it.
The river was flowing brightly in the dawn sun and almost looked inviting until she dipped a toe in. Paul had been right. It must have been flowing with melt water from the mountain rising in the distance because it was absolutely icy. Touching it made her feel cold all over, and the prospect of splashing the water over her nethers made her legs clench together.
She had intended on getting in the water, but ended up crouched naked by the stream, gingerly cupping water over bits and pieces of her body. She lathered herself and did her best to wash without freezing to death, but it wasn’t easy.
“My bathroom at home has a shower with six massaging showerheads,” she called out to Paul. “Hot water for hours.”
“Sounds nice,” he said. He was messing with a small gas burner, over which he was cooking some beans for breakfast.
She ran out of the water, shivering, and toweled herself as best she could with the world’s smallest towel.
“Do you have anything to wear? I want to wash my clothes. Or rinse them.”
“There’s no time to wash your clothes,” he said. “That’s what the change of socks and underwear was for.”
“I am going to be totally disgusting in about three days,” she moaned. “At least let me dip my leggings and top into the water. They’re quick drying.”
“Okay,” he said. “Make it quick, then hang them out on a branch. But put this on first. I don’t want them catching us naked.”
He pulled a khaki shirt from his pack, handed it to her, and she pulled it over her head. It was huge. The sleeves hung inches down from her hands, and it fell to her mid-thigh. It wasn’t fashionable, but at least it was warm. There was a light scent of Paul about the garment, which she liked. She was reminded how much she liked his smell and she found herself lifting the sleeve to her face as she turned back to the river, inhaling deeply.
“Socks and boots on,” Paul said. “We have to be ready to move.”
Chloe made a grumpy grunting sound, but obeyed even though she made a funny sight, wearing a large shirt big enough to be a dress, heavy boots on her feet, and bare legs exposed. But it was better than tramping around in sweat and dirt and yes, cum.
* * *
Paul cooked up breakfast while Chloe set about doing her best to make herself presentable according to the feminine demands of her psyche. She looked so vulnerable, almost gazelle-like in his shirt. She cast a little curious look at him and he felt his heart ache in response. God, she was beautiful. And he’d made love to her.
The sex had been urgent and animalistic and probably unprofessional, but what man could have resisted a beautiful young woman sitting on his lap with the scent of her arousal hanging obviously in the evening air? She had been ready for him almost from the moment they met; he’d noticed the flowering of her labia during the medical. She was very responsive, very eager for sex.
He was a bit surprised by how hungry her desire had been. Surely a girl like Chloe could have any man or combination of men she wanted? How was it that a starlet like her had been in such a lonely and desperate place that she’d not had a single friend to take her phone off her and avert the whole social media disaster in the first place?
“Your friends must be missing you,” he said casually.
Chloe wrung out her tank top and shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“No?”
Her brown eyes filled with sadness, which made her look more forlorn than ever. “I don’t really have friends. Nobody does.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, in my world, people want things. They’ll party with you, but they don’t really like you. Not for who you are. Same with sex and stuff. If you sleep with the wrong person, you end up with the story and maybe even pictures everywhere. It kind of sucks.”
Kind of sucks sounded like an understatement to Paul.
“I’ve got Chase. He’s not a friend, but he takes care of the business stuff, and that’s more than most people have. It’s kind of, I don’t know, the price you pay for being successful, I guess.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“It’s not. I mean, it is. But it’s also not. It’s hard to explain.” She twisted her face up with the effort. “Are your friends missing you? Maybe your girlfriend?”
It struck him that Chloe hadn’t even known he was single when they had sex, no more than he still knew if she was. God. What on earth were they doing?
“I’m single,” he said. “I was married once. For about two years before my first deployment.”
“Oh, what happened?”
He gave a little shrug. “She didn’t wait for me.”
“Ouch.” Chloe screwed her face up. “That sucks.”
“It did suck,” he agreed. “And you?”
“I’ve never been deployed.”
He smirked at her little attempt to lighten the mood.
“I mean, are you single, brat?”
“I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”
Paul dropped the spoon into the beans, swore, and had to fish it out with a fork. “How is that possibl
e?”
Chloe crouched down opposite him, grinning at his predicament. “Once everyone wants to fuck you, it makes it pretty difficult to find anyone worth having sex with. I was with a guy I’d been with for a while. He sold some pictures of me to a website.”
“What a scumbag,” Paul sympathized, feeling anger rise in him at the thought of Chloe being betrayed. She was too damn sweet. She didn’t deserve that.
“Yeah, so I figured I’d wait on love until my career started tanking and pictures and stuff weren’t worth anything anymore.”
“Is that why you got into trouble with all that online stuff?”
“Maybe,” she shrugged, a little smile dancing around her lips. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really thinking. I was just, angry. With everything. People think once you get rich you can do anything, but it’s really just the same kind of stuff you did before, and sometimes even less of it. I can’t go and get a burger without the world going nuts. It’s kind of rough. Maybe I didn’t want that anymore. I don’t know.”
Paul nodded. It made sense. As much as Chloe seemed like she had it all, she was really a girl in a bubble. He didn’t blame her for going a little crazy.
“Well,” he said. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to have sex with me.”
She blushed and giggled. “Did I have a choice?”
“In the sex?”
“No, in trusting you,” she said, her grin growing wider. “I wanted the sex. Don’t worry. I’m not freaking out on you or anything.”
“You always have a choice,” he said. “To trust, or not to trust.”
“But I don’t have a choice whether to obey you or not?”
“Oh, you have a choice,” he said, casually pouring the beans into two plates. “But there’s consequences for disobedience.”
“For two weeks.”
“For two weeks,” he nodded, looking into her eyes and seeing a little spark of disappointment there. “Or longer.”
“You mean, as long as the movie takes to film?”
Chloe was obviously trying very hard to keep her tone light and playful, but he could sense the slight strain in her voice. She was fishing for something. Wanting to know whether he wanted something more or if he’d fucked her just to see if he could.