The scarred fingers from his right hand gripped her hips while his left hand worked down his zipper. He gasped as he pulled his length free from his confining slacks and slide the aching, scorching shaft between Ira’s legs, teasing her slit.
Yet he didn’t plunge. His nails dug into her skin through her skirt, and he whimpered, his eyes closed tightly.
Why wasn’t she fighting back?
She could overpower him. A simple snap of her fingers and he would be pummeled to the mud by the sheer dominance she exerted over him and everyone else that dared challenge her.
Yet here they were, in the soaking rain. Her ass pressed against his pelvis, his knuckles turning red, then back to porcelain as he trapped her.
This was wrong.
This was wrong!
“Tristan, don’t make me wait.”
His head jerked up at her voice, and when he looked into her eyes, his heart squeezed.
Her lashes fluttered again, and she cooed, her crimson eyes glassy. Her coos morphed into pants as she arched her back against him, her thick hair plastered against her cheeks, painted over her shoulders and coiled around her neck. She clenched her teeth together before she gave him a tiny smile. Her smeared, pouty lips parted.
A smile just for him.
Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“I need you.”
Tristan’s eyes widened, and any hesitation vanished.
She needed him.
No one needed him as much as she did.
He pulled back and then plunged in, hard, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. Ira tensed and cried out as he knocked against the deepest part of her, the ache making her muscles squeeze him, then loosen, then squeeze again in a cyclic rhythm. She had let herself go, that long awaited climax cascading over her, her inner muscles contracting as her heels lifted from the ground, toes digging into the mud.
“Holy…fuck!” Tristan lowered his head to press against her upper back, forcing himself to hold back as she climaxed, squeezing him for all he was worth. “You…came? Did you want me that badly?” He slid his hips back a few inches before thrusting back inside. “Then why?! Why didn’t you just rape me?!”
Again, he didn’t want her to answer, sliding almost all the way out before pushing in, causing her to release another rumbling scream. He kept her on that high, giving hurried thrusts before dragging out his cock, inch by inch, making her feel every throbbing vein against her insensitive, trembling inner muscles.
“You own me, right?!” One hand moved up from her hips and to her breast, squeezing it as his other hand gripped her hair, letting unwise anger take over. He pulled her upper body up, her upper back pressed against his chest and her head leaned back and against his neck. His hand loosened his grip on the soft mound, just so his fingers could squeeze and tug on the hard, erect nipple, “You own me, so why haven’t you tortured me?!!”
“Tris-Tristan-!” She squealed as he thrusted upwards. The wind knocked out of her at the sudden pummeling. Each pull on her nipple and each throbbing push back inside of her made her heart skip a beat and her voice went higher in pitch, her squeals and howls only drowned out by the storm.
She was singing for him. His name was a prayer on her lips.
What the fuck was WRONG with her?!
He gasped before biting down hard on his lip, piercing it so he tasted blood, hurting himself so he could hold back from her enticing, greedy sex.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He slowed his thrusts, his forehead against the back of her head. He held them there, in that frozen moment, her hot juices leaking down their thighs, mixing with the puddles under them. “…What do you want from me?”
She shuddered, her breath coming out in quick puffs. She moaned, her tongue slipping out to taste the rain, savoring how deep he was.
Right where he belonged.
She twitched as he pinched her nipple, her toes going numb. “Just you…I want you.” Her bottom lip quivered, and she shook her head. “I only ever wanted you. My beautiful Tristan.”
All the bruises and scars…He was beautiful to her.
She slides up and down, urging life back into his hips. “I didn’t want to…” She mewled, feeling him succumb and move with her. “To hurt you again. To get angry at you.” She cooed before his other hand moved from her hair to between her legs and just above their connection. He was teasing her most sensitive, swollen nub, making her squirm. “You made me so…so angry. So I tore up everything…destroyed anything so I can prove to you…that I won’t hurt you anymore.”
He pressed his lips tightly together, his teeth grinding side to side. She was doing exactly as she said she would do. She was keeping her promise and doing whatever she could to ease her temper without taking it out on his body.
He surged forward, barely any inches between them. Her body was rubbing up the tree as he propelled her upwards, the hand on her breast back to digging into her hips while the other, coated in her fluids, gripped her wrist. He slammed in and jerked out of her, the sound of their bodies smacking against each other growing louder than the rain. His heart was drumming in rhythm of their fucking and he didn’t pay any mind when she squealed, her molten sex coiling around him, constricting around him for all he was worth.
She marked him on the outside, so he was going to paint her insides.
He couldn’t beat her.
So he was going to fuck her.
He gasped, a strangled cry escaping his throat as his length shook. Then erupted, filling her with all that she milked from him. He jerked and shuddered as her muscles held him lovingly. Even her tight, gushing cunt wanted to hold him and keep him where he should be.
They shuddered, bodies bound underneath the torrential rain. She turned her head to the side, drool down her lipsticked smeared jaw, her eyes hazy as she tried to pull herself together, “We…we should go back inside…”
He slowly slid, his dick pulling out with a wet plop. A perverted curiosity came over him. He gripped her bottom cheeks, making her shiver before he stepped back. With his thumbs, he pulled her swollen, aching valley open.
Long, thick pearly globules leaked from her. He moaned, watching that translucent seed ooze. The ivory mix cascaded down her dark, warm, quivering thighs and the contrast was intoxicating.
Just like when his cum dripped down her chin.
Ira twitched and turned her back to look back at him, her face flushed as he stared, transfixed, on her well fucked pussy.
If he were a normal man, he would pull up his soaked pants over his wilting cock and walk with her back to the manor. If he was a normal man, he would be satisfied, enjoying the afterglow.
He wasn’t normal anymore.
His cock was still as hard and demanding as before. Despite spilling a full load inside of her, it pulsated at the sight of her sex, aching to go back inside and churn until she couldn’t even walk.
It needed to fuck her up after she had ignored it so.
He needed to remind her he was a monster, too.
Just like her.
Before she could stand, his fingers clamped down on her hips. He pulled her back as he slammed forward, every hungry inch surging back inside. A choked cry rumbled from her throat in surprise, her head leaning back in shock as he filled her. He leaned forward, hissing against her ear. “…I’m not done yet, Ira.”
For a much fluffier, sweeter, while also realistic slice of life romance, check out MimSS's 3 Paths to Love! An accessible and sweet Omegaverse story that centers on the lives of three brothers and the men who love them. Check it out!
Link in the Description!