Chapter 79: Thorne Cant Stop

Then Thorne’s hips snap upward, and he doesn’t ease into it, doesn’t bother with gentle, not now, he pistons into her with brutal, steady force, holding her hips down to meet every upward thrust, and the sound she makes is somewhere between a sob and a moan, high and wrecked, her nails digging crescents into his shoulders.

"Thorne-haah! Thorne, yes! Please right there, don’t stop-amuhhh ahah"

Edrik watches her breasts bounce with every slam of her hips, watches the sheen of sweat starting to gather along her collarbone, watches Thorne bury his face between them, growling against her skin with every thrust, and his own hand moves faster beneath the blanket, breath coming short and uneven, trying, failing to keep quiet.

A small moan growl escapes him before he can bite it back, and this time Dove hears it over her own cries, turning her head toward him even as her body keeps rocking with the force of Thorne’s thrusts, her eyes glassy, lips parted, a wrecked little smile curving at the corner of her mouth.

Edrik’s face burns hotter than the embers in the hearth. His hand doesn’t stop moving. He watches Dove’s head fall back again, watches her chest heave, watches Thorne’s enormous hands splay across her lower back and drag her down harder, faster, the bedroll creaking beneath them, and he thinks, distantly, somewhere beneath the roaring in his own ears that he has never in his life wanted to be given permission for anything so badly.

Dove’s moans climb higher, breathless little gasps strung together, her whole body trembling now with the force of it, and Thorne’s growl deepens into something almost feral, his pace turning punishing, relentless, like he means to make good on every filthy promise he’s whispered into her ear tonight.

"That’s it," Thorne grits out against her throat, "that’s my girl gonna give you everything-haah."

Edrik bites down hard on his own knuckle, hips twitching up into his own hand beneath the blanket, eyes never once leaving the two of them tangled together in the firelight, and somewhere in the haze of it all he realizes he’s stopped pretending to read a long, long time ago.

The stale air hangs thick with the stench of sweat, pussy juice, and desperate lust. On the bucking, sweat-slicked mattress, Dove is nothing but a fuck-toy mounted on Thorne’s monstrous cock.

She’s impaled, her tight little cunt stretched obscenely wide around his thick, veiny shaft.

He’s pistoning her, his powerful hips jackhammering upwards, driving his cock deeper with every brutal thrust.

Her ass slams down onto his thighs, the wet, meaty smack of flesh-on-flesh echoing in the cramped room, punctuated by the filthy schlick-schlick-schlick of her soaked hole taking every inch.

Thorne’s hands grip on her hips, hauling her up only to slam her back down onto his cock with enough force to make her tits jiggle violently.

Her head’s thrown back, a choked scream ripped from her throat as his dickhead batters her cervix. But Thorne ain’t done. His mouth is latched onto her left tit like a starved animal, his teeth scraping and biting the stiff, cherry-red nipple.

He’s devouring it, sucking the swollen nub deep into his hot mouth, worrying it with his teeth until Dove’s shrieks turn ragged, her body convulsing around his invading prick. His other hand mauls her free tit, fingers digging into the soft flesh, pinching and twisting the other nipple into a hard, aching peak.

And the sound... beneath the slap of skin and Dove’s broken moans, there’s the rhythmic thwack-thwack-thwack of Thorne’s heavy fucking balls. With every upward slam of his hips, his sack rockets up, smacking hard against the sweat-slicked curve of Dove’s ass cheeks.

His nuts are a fleshy metronome, pounding against her skin, leaving faint red marks with every impact, swollen and tight with the pressure of his building load.

Edrik’s jacking himself off in hard, practiced strokes, his palm slick with pre-cum. His balls draw up tight against his taint, a low groan escaping him as he watches Thorne’s balls slap Dove’s ass. He’s not hiding it. He’s performing.

Dove moans louder, deliberately, arching her back to thrust her ravaged tits out, offering the view to Edrik.

Thorne feels her clench, feels her shift. He grunts, a feral sound, and lifts his mouth from her bruised nipple, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the abused peak.

Dove screams, her body bowing, her cunt spasming wildly around the thick intrusion. Her juices gush, soaking Thorne’s balls, dripping onto the filthy sheets below.

Edrik’s stroking intensifies, his breath coming in harsh gasps, his own balls churning.

Thorne doesn’t let up. If anything her climax only spurs him on, his rhythm turning more brutal, less controlled, every thrust driving a grunt out of him that sounds less like a man and more like something that lives in the dark woods and claims what it wants.

Dove’s screaming has gone hoarse, her voice cracking on every downstroke, her arms gone slack around his neck like she doesn’t have the strength left to hold on and doesn’t need to, not with the way he’s got her pinned against his body, moving her like she weighs nothing at all.

Edrik’s hand doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. His eyes are fixed on the place where they’re joined, slick and shining in the firelight, on the obscene stretch of her around him, and he thinks distantly that he should be ashamed of how badly he wants to be the one doing that to her, wants to be the one making those sounds come out of her throat. The shame doesn’t come. There isn’t room for it, not with his heart slamming against his ribs and his own hips rocking up into his fist in time with Thorne’s thrusts like his body’s trying to match the rhythm without asking permission.

"Gonna breed you," Thorne growls, the words coming out broken and raw now, his restraint fraying at the edges. "Gonna fill you up so full you’ll feel it for days, gonna put something in you that stays-"

Dove’s answering sound isn’t words anymore. It’s just noise, high and wrecked, her whole body shuddering as another climax crests through her, her cunt clamping down around him hard enough that Edrik can see the way Thorne’s hips stutter, just for a second, before he drives in deep and holds there.

and his whole body goes rigid, hips grinding in short, desperate circles as he empties himself into her. It doesn’t stop after a few seconds

Thorne’s cock twitching deep inside her, his breath coming in ragged pulls, his hands locked tight on her hips to keep her pinned against him through it, like he means to make sure every drop stays exactly where he put it. A full minute, maybe more, Thorne shuddering through it, groaning low every time another spurt works its way out of him, and Dove’s gone boneless against his chest, her cries tapering into soft little whimpers, then nothing at all.