FREE USE in Primitive World - Chapter 367: Tearing Open

Chapter 367: Chapter 367: Tearing Open

She didn’t want to be in control. She wanted him to keep touching her.

And when he pinned her wrists to the mat, pressing his broad, hard chest against her back, her pride finally broke.

She didn’t want to be the High Shaman anymore. She didn’t want to carry the weight of the tribe or the sky. She just wanted to be crushed under the weight of this man. The absolute, heavy dominance in his movements offered a sick, desperate relief. She didn’t have to be in charge.

She could just surrender.

As his hands dragged down her sides, brushing against the sides of her breasts, a hot, wet ache flared violently between her legs, something she didn’t even know she possessed.

Her hips moved completely on their own, bucking off the mat, desperately trying to grind against his thighs. She was chasing the friction, chasing the heat, completely a slave to the sensations he was forcing into her body.

I am making a fool of myself, a tiny, rational part of her brain whispered as a ragged moan tore out of her throat. I am whining like a beast in heat. But the rational voice was instantly drowned out when his large hands gripped her thighs.

He squeezed her flesh right over the wet linen wrap, and another massive dose of pleasure hit her system. White light flashed behind her eyelids. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on actual agony. She kicked her legs, screaming into her folded arms, her mind completely blanking out.

She was absolutely drowning in it. The smell of his sweat mixed with the burning sage. The heavy, volatile yang energy rolling off his Sun Core, wrapping around her like a hot blanket. The rough, calloused texture of his fingers dragging across the sensitive skin behind her knees.

She felt completely exposed. Stripped bare. And she was deeply, hopelessly addicted to it.

When his hands slid back up her legs, his fingers hooking dangerously right under the edge of her lower wrap, her body hit a breaking point.

She couldn’t take the teasing anymore. The heavy, throbbing ache between her thighs was driving her insane. She needed him inside her. She needed the rough, violent reality of his body to fill the hollow, aching emptiness the storm had left behind.

She threw her hips backward with desperate force, grinding her soft, wet curves directly against the hard, thick bulge pressing against his heavy leather pants.

“More…” The word tore out of her throat, wrecked and pleading. She didn’t care how it sounded. She didn’t care about anything outside this sweltering, incense-filled room. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop…”

She felt him freeze for a split second. She felt the heavy, feral tension snap into place in his muscles.

A low, guttural growl vibrated right through his chest and into her back. It was the sound of a starving predator completely letting go of its leash.

He ripped his hands away from her thighs.

Zephyra gasped, a brief spike of panic hitting her… is he stopping? Did I push too far?

… but then she heard it.

The sound of his hemp rope belt being ripped open.

A violent, ecstatic shiver ripped straight down Zephyra’s spine. Her heart hammered against the woven mat, her breath coming in shallow, frantic pants.

The hemp rope belt was finally tore open with brutal finality, the sound echoing in the sweltering room like a war drum.

Sol’s leather pants loosened, and he shoved them down just enough to free the thick, heavy length of his cock.

As if waiting for this exact moment, it sprang out readily, already rock-hard and throbbing, the thick veined cock flushed dark from the boiling essence in his Sun Core. Pre-cum beaded at the swollen tip, glistening in the dim ember-light of the ritual fire.

It wasn’t just his body that was changing, his cock was transforming too, compared to just when he had arrived, it was longer, thicker and angrier. It was easily around respectable nine to ten inches.

Zephyra heard the sound, and her breath hitched. Her heart hammered so hard against the woven mat it felt like it was going to crack her ribs. Every single nerve ending in her body was screaming, completely hijacked by the pleasure circulating through her veins.

Still face-down on the woven mat, her silver-white eyes… now even more hazy and blown wide with lust… flicked back over her shoulder. She caught a glimpse of him: the broad, battle-scarred chest, the jagged lightning scar, and that arrogant, feral grin on his young face.

The only guy who had stared at her like meat instead of a goddess.

But as she started down, her breath hitched even further, and eyes blown wide, because what she was a complete monster, it was a lie to say that she had seen it for the first time, she had involuntarily seen it a few times, but goddess…they weren’t even close to half of it.

“Goddess above…” she whispered, voice wrecked and raspy. A violent shiver rolled down her sweat-slicked spine, making her heavy breasts press harder into the mat.

The thin, soaked linen wrap around her chest had ridden up, exposing the undersides of her lush, mature curves. Her dark nipples were tight, aching peaks begging for attention.

Sol didn’t speak. He dropped to his knees right behind her, reaching down to grab the soaked, knotted linen wrap tied around her hips. His fingers dug into the soft, giving flesh of her ass, still partially covered by the skimpy lower wrap.

He didn’t bother looking for the seam or untying the knot. He just curled his thick, calloused fingers into the fabric and violently tore it aside in one sharp motion.

The fabric ripped with a wet sound, exposing the full, glistening swell of her ass and the slick, swollen folds beneath. And as expected, her pussy was already soaked, the puffy lips glistening with her arousal, a thin string of wetness connecting her to the mat.