FREE USE in Primitive World-Chapter 311: Different Positions
The rhythm Sol established with her legs draped over his shoulders was nothing short of a siege. Every time he drove forward, his hips collided with the base of her spine, pinning her so deeply into the furs that her breath was stolen before she could even form a moan.
The friction was a raw, searing heat, exacerbated by the thick, creamy slick of their combined fluids that made every withdrawal a slow, suctioning torment and every plunge a heavy, wet invasion.
He was buried to the absolute depth possible, his pelvic bone crushing against hers with a heavy, wet thud that sent a jolt of fire straight to his brain. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂
Kira was even tighter than before, her internal walls swollen and hyper-sensitive from the first round, clinging to him like a living sucker that refused to let go.
Sol looked down at the point of their union. Her pussy was red, swollen and weeping, struggling to accommodate the sheer, unyielding girth of him.
He could see the way her skin stretched and paled at the entrance with every thrust, a testament to just how much he was taking from her. He wasn’t just fucking her, he relished the way her internal muscles spasmed around him, trying to crush him and pull him deeper all at once.
"You’re so fucking perfect for this," Sol rasped, his voice a guttural scrape of iron.
Feeling the pressure build in his lower back, Sol suddenly shifted his grip. He pulled her legs down and, without withdrawing, rolled her onto her side. He stayed buried within her, the friction of the rotation drawing a long, broken shriek from her throat.
He draped her top leg over his hip, pinning her down with his weight so that they were locked together in a tight, sideways embrace.
This angle was different... a bit shallow than before but broader. He could feel the ridges of his cock scraping against her G-spot with a brutal, direct pressure. He began to thrust with a short, rapid-firespeed, his hips slapping against the side of her thigh with a wet, rhythmic sound..
"Is this better?" he hissed into her ear, his tongue lashing out to lick the salt and musk from her skin. "I can feel the back of you, Kira. I’m hitting the very wall of your soul."
"Don’t... don’t stop," she wheezed, her hand reaching back to claw at his glutes, trying to pull him even harder into her. "Fuck... Sol... it’s so hot... I’m burning up inside."
Due to them both Spirit warrior, and burning inside out, the room felt like a pressurized chamber, the scent of sex and salt so thick it was like a physical presence. Sol’s hands were everywhere.... kneading her breasts, pulling at her nipples until they were hard, tensed gems of desire, and then sliding down to grip the notch of her waist.
He was marking her, leaving the white imprints of his fingers on her ivory skin, brands that would turn to bruises by morning.
Even though quite a bit of time had passed, Sol didn’t feel tired. The Layer 1 core in his chest was acting like a perpetual motion machine, feeding off the adrenaline and the pheromones flooding the room.
In fact, he felt more awake, more lethal, and more ravenous than he ever had in his previous life or this one. And this wasn’t just sex, it was a kind of physical exorcism. He was purging weeks of near-death encounters, blood-soaked mud, and the constant, grinding pressure of survival. And Kira.....Kira was using him as a drug to drown out the screams of her own conscience.
He hauled her back to the center of the plush white furs, but he didn’t lay her down. He sat back on his heels, his massive, corded thighs framing her hips. He grabbed her waist, his fingers sinking into the firm, athletic give of her flesh, and pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him.
....
In this reverse position, Sol had a perfect view of her back.... the long, elegant curve of her spine, the ripple of muscle over her shoulder blades, and the frantic, rhythmic twitching of her beautiful ass. He entered her from behind, a slow, agonizingly deep slide that made Kira’s head snap back against his shoulder.
"Aaghhh! Sol," she wheezed, her hands reaching back to grip his knees for leverage. "You’re... you’re even harder now. How?"
"The core doesn’t sleep, Kira," Sol growled into her ear, his breath a hot furnace blast. "And neither do I. I’ve spent too many nights staring at the canopy waiting for something to try and kill me. Tonight, I’m the one doing the killing. I’m killing every thought in that head of yours."
He began to move, but it wasn’t a thrust. It was a brutal, circular grind. He used the grounding density of the Great Badger to anchor his weight, pressing his cock upward against her g-spot with every rotation.
The friction was immense. The pressure was jumping from his groin into her pussy, making her internal muscles twitch in involuntary, electric spasms.
Kira’s moans were becoming guttural, stripped of any feminine softness. She was grinding back against him, her ass slamming into his hips with a wet, heavy thwack. She was a Spirit Warrior, she knew how to use her body as a weapon, and right now, she was weaponizing her pleasure.
"More," she hissed, her fingers digging furrows into the skin of his thighs. "Don’t just grind. Hammer me. I want to feel you hitting the back. I want to feel you trying to tear through me."
Sol obliged. He changed the rhythm, his thrusts becoming short, violent jolts of raw power. He wasn’t holding back his strength anymore.
Every time his hips met her backside, the sound echoed through the high-timbered ceiling of the Spire. He was marking her, his cock a hot iron branding her from the inside out.
He reached around, his hands cupping her breasts, pulling them back so he could see the way they bounced with the force of his movement.
