He let out a shaky, ragged hiss—a desperate sound that proved I had just torn his final shred of restraint to pieces. His massive hand banded around my wrist. His grip was iron-tight, his blunt fingers digging right into my pulse point.
"Every fucking inch," he groaned, his voice dropping into a rough. "I warned you, Sunshine. You brought this on yourself."
Before I could process his words, his hand clamped onto my hip. Using his raw, uncompromising power, he effortlessly rolled me onto my side, facing away from him. The cold nylon wall of the tent pressed against my front, completely trapping me.
"Not a single sound," he rasped, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of my ear, sending a violent shiver cascading down my spine. "You wanted this? Then keep your mouth shut and take it."
The excruciatingly loud rasp of his zipper dropping in the suffocating quiet of the tent made my heart stop.
I heard the heavy rustle of denim and felt the sudden, scorching blast of heat radiating from his exposed groin. His heavy arm wrapped around my waist, his large hand roughly hiking up the hem of my thin cotton nightgown, bunching it around my ribs until my lower half was completely bare to the freezing air—and to him.
Then, he froze. The desperate, rough urgency in his hands died the exact second he realized there was no fabric left to tear or push aside.
"Fuck," he growled, his voice completely raw. "Didn't even bother with panties, did you? Just walking around bare, dripping for me like this all the time."
I felt his burning gaze fixate intensely on my exposed core, taking in the flushed, shivering skin and the slick, undeniable evidence of how ready I was for him.
"Paul," I whimpered, my voice trembling as my fingers weakly curled into the mattress. "Stop... stop looking at me like that."
"Shh," he hissed. His calloused fingers slipped between my thighs, finding me slick, swollen, and embarrassingly eager. He didn't bother preparing me; I was already a wet, aching mess for him. He stroked my clit once—a hard, ruthless swipe that made my hips buck involuntarily against his hand.
He added another finger, sinking into me with slow, deep thrusts. The wet sound was obscene in the dead quiet of the tent, muffled only by the thick blanket and my tightly clamped thighs.
“Relax,” he whispered, his breath hot against my neck. “Breathe through it, baby girl. Don’t clench so hard or you’ll come too fast.”
I let out a tiny, broken whimper.
“Look how bad you are,” he murmured, his tone dripping with dark amusement. “Dripping all over my hand with your mom five feet away.”
The words hit my brain like gasoline on an open flame.
I arched back even harder, grinding my ass against his rigid thighs, desperate for more friction.
He pulled his fingers free—a slow, torturous glide that left me utterly empty and aching.
Then, he shifted us.
His strong hands guided me up onto my knees, my back pressed flush to his chest, the heavy blanket still draped over us like a flimsy, desperate shield. My nightgown hung loose, my breasts swaying free beneath the bunched cotton. Kneeling directly behind me, his jeans shoved down just enough, he pressed his bare cock against the cleft of my ass. Hot. Thick. Leaking.
“Reach back,” he ordered softly. “Feel me.”
I obeyed instantly.
My hand slipped blindly behind me, dipping under the waistband of his boxers until my fingers wrapped fully around him.
God.
He was burning hot, feeling like heavy velvet stretched over forged steel. Thick veins pulsed furiously under my palm. I traced the prominent ridges blindly, learning the terrifying scale of him by touch alone. No sight. Just pure, overwhelming sensation: the heavy throb in my grip, the slick bead of precum coating my thumb as I circled the head, and the way his entire body jerked when I squeezed just below the crown.
“Fuck,” he hissed against my neck. “That’s it. Stroke me slow. Feel how hard you make me.”
I pumped once—long and deliberate—feeling every vein, every frantic twitch. His hips rocked forward instinctively into my fist.
Beside us, Mom muttered something incoherent in her sleep about the cold.
We froze mid-stroke.
My hand stilled completely around his cock. His fingers dug into my hips hard enough to leave bruises.
She rolled over once more, let out a long sigh, and settled back into a heavy slumber.
The very second her breathing leveled out, Paul groaned low in his throat, a sound barely audible over the roaring in my ears.
“Keep going,” he rasped. “Don’t stop. Milk me just like that.”
I resumed, faster now, twisting my wrist on the upstroke, my thumb smearing his slick wetness over the slit. His breathing turned choppy and ragged against my ear.
He slid his hand between my legs again—three fingers this time—plunging deep and stretching me wide open while his calloused thumb worked my clit in ruthless, demanding circles.
“Quiet,” he growled softly. “Not a single sound. You wake her, and I stop. You want me to stop, Sunshine?”
I shook my head frantically, tears of sheer need stinging my eyes.
“Didn’t think so.”
His fingers fucked into me harder. Wet, filthy sounds echoed softly, barely masked by the thick wool blanket. My thighs shook violently. My grip on his cock tightened, stroking faster, perfectly matching his brutal rhythm.
“Look how greedy you are,” he whispered, his tone a mix of filth and reverence. “Your little pussy clenching like it’s starving. My cock throbbing in your little hand. You love this, being bad right next to her. You love knowing I could bend you over and fill you up at any second.”
I clenched around his fingers so hard he cursed under his breath.
“Gonna come for me?” he breathed. "Gonna soak my hand while you jerk me off? Do it. Come quiet, baby. Show me how bad you need it.”
The orgasm hit me like a runaway freight train—silent and utterly shattering. My whole body locked up, my back bowing as my mouth fell open in a soundless, breathless scream. Relentless waves of pleasure ripped through my core as my slickness gushed over his fingers and ran down my trembling thighs.
He didn’t stop. He kept thrusting right through the climax, drawing it out until I was oversensitive, shaking uncontrollably, and whimpering helplessly against his broad shoulder.
Then, his own control finally snapped.
His hips jerked forward into my fist once, twice, his cock swelling impossibly thicker in my grasp.
“Fuck—Sunshine—”
He came hard, hot, heavy pulses spilling rapidly over my fingers, coating my palm, and dripping down my wrist. His teeth sank possessively into the soft flesh of my shoulder, muffling his own guttural groan as his massive body shuddered violently against mine.
We stayed like that for a long moment—panting, sticky, our hearts slamming a frantic, unified beat in the darkness until the aftershocks finally faded.
He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the fading bite mark he’d just left on my skin.
“I'm taking my words back, Sunshine,” he whispered, his voice completely wrecked. "I need to be inside you. I need to feel you. To fuck you properly. Deep. Hard. Until you can’t walk straight.”
I shivered, my slick hand still loosely caging him.
“Now?” I breathed.
His hand cupped my jaw, turning my face just enough to brush his lips over mine in a soft, filthy promise.
“Yes. Every fucking inch. You're mine now, Sunshine.”
Suddenly, Mom sighed loudly in her sleep again. We both instantly stilled.
For a split second, the blood turned to ice in my veins. Paul’s massive frame went rigidly tense as if he’d been struck by lightning. We turned to absolute stone in the pitch black, our ragged breaths trapped tight in our throats, staring blindly in the direction of her voice in sheer, unadulterated panic.
But she didn't wake. Her chest rose and fell in a steady, heavy rhythm.
The hesitation vanished, immediately eclipsed by pure, primal lust. Paul anchored his grip on my hips, pulling me flush against him. The blunt, scorching head of his cock pressed directly against my wet, waiting cleft.
The sheer size of him resting against my opening sent a fresh wave of panic and intoxicating heat crashing through me.
"Bite the blanket, baby girl," he ordered softly, his voice trembling with a dark, terrifying hunger. "I'm coming in."
He didn't give me a chance to brace myself. Paul locked my hips into place against the mattress and drove his lower half forward.
Oh God. He was impossibly thick. The slow, relentless stretch of his cock pushing past my tight folds was agonizingly good. My inner walls clenched furiously, trying to accommodate the massive, rigid invasion. A silent scream tore at my throat. It was too big, too hot, too unbelievably deep.
He let out a ragged, guttural groan, his broad chest heaving against my back as he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth, unforgiving thrust.
The overwhelming fullness completely short-circuited my brain. Tears of sheer, unadulterated pleasure spiked my eyes.
And at that exact, breathtaking second—The heavy sleeping bag beside us rustled violently.
"What... what are you doing?"