Unnatural Instinct: Free

17.

He speaks your name as he rests his big body against yours. He's so warm, a relief against the cold. You grab at his shoulders, digging your fingers into the big muscles as he nestles himself between your legs. You can feel him ... you can feel his shaft press up against your navel, hard and thick and long.

You don't have time to wonder what you should do next before he starts kissing you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, the curve of your jaw. You whimper as he does. His breath is warm and sweet. His skin is soft, his hands gentle. He's worlds apart from Derrick. Then he stops to look in your eyes, his hand on your hip as he waits.

'I'm ready,' you whisper. You give a tearful gasp. 'Goddamn it, I'm ready!'

Slowly, he smooths his hand down your body, down your neck, over the curve of your breast and hip, wearing a small smile on his face as he presses a finger into your belly button. Next, he brushes his long fingers through your pubic hair before lightly cupping you between the legs. It makes you jump.

He looks at you again, making sure you're still ready, then slowly inserts a finger. With a gasp, you grab onto his wrist. He pauses.

'Sorry,' you say, releasing him as you slump back onto the ground.

He inserts it more deeply. You wince, suck in a breath, as he pushes it all the way in. You bite your lip. If this is painful ...

After inserting his finger as far as it can go, he slowly withdraws it, his eyes on your face, watching for any cues that you want him to stop. When he sees nothing, he looks down between your heaving bodies to grab onto his thick shaft. Taking your hand, he makes you grab it too.

His eyes are dark and focused as he encourages you to stroke it. It helps ease your fears just a little. After a few moments, he stops you, eyes boring into yours.

'I'm ready,' you say.

Repositioning himself so his hips rest above yours, he directs his penis towards your opening. Bracing yourself, you spread your legs further, hoping to widen your vagina just that little bit more. You're going to need every centimetre you have. You suck in a breath of surprise at how warm the tip of him is against your soft flesh. How hard ... and huge.

For a moment he rests it there, looking at you, before he presses it between your wet, aching lips. It doesn't hurt ... not yet.

Slowly, he enters you. Arching your neck, you gasp. He stops.

'Keep going,' you say in a tight voice, grabbing onto his arms. 'Don't stop.'

He slides in further. You squeeze your eyes shut, releasing a long deep breath as he pushes in further. You bite back a cry at a sharp sting. He must see your pain because his lips are against yours, kissing you softly. Just when you think you can't handle anymore, he enters you completely.

You release a shuddering breath. Lurin is panting.

'You okay?' he says.

Eyes still squeezed shut, you nod. 'Keep going.'

He slides out, then back into you, kissing you hard as that cry you held back finally escapes your lips. Then he's thrusting rhythmically. All you can do is tighten your grip around his arms and brace yourself. It feels like you're burning on the inside—and not in a good way. Pain throbs up your spine and through your arms and legs. You can feel it through your whole body. It feels like he's tearing you apart!

He pauses to speak your name. 'We should stop,' he says.

'No! Keep going. If you stop it'll only hurt more the second time.'

So he slides into you again. You keep silent, trying to move with him, willing your body to open itself up.

Just another minute. Just another minute.

You say it over and over in your mind. His breath is in your face, and at every thrust he grunts. His sweat is pooling on your chest. At a sudden sharp pinch somewhere deep inside your channel, you bite back a shriek. Grabbing onto his shoulders, you dig your nails in. A tear trickles down your cheek as you bite your lip against the urge to shout 'Stop!'

He's thrusting harder. He's grunting louder. And you know the end is coming. Thank God! It's getting worse; you can feel him swelling to an even bigger size inside you. It's pushing you to the limit.

Then, finally, one last deep thrust and he throws his head back with a snarl. Almost immediately the pain stops. Instantly, your body relaxes and all you can do is sink into the ground in relief.

Lurin slumps against you, panting almost as hard as you. You smooth your hands beneath his wings, down his broad back as he kisses you passionately on the mouth. He's still inside you but it no longer hurts, and soon he falls out of you, followed by a warm gush of hot liquid.

He grabs your face. 'Are you okay?'

You nod, unable to answer. He kisses you again before rolling off you and onto his side. And there he gathers you close, his arms wrapped around you, your breasts pressed up against his chest. You push your face into the nape of his neck, enjoying the feel of him stroking your hair.

'No regrets?' he says.

You look up at him. 'Definitely not.' You rub your face in his neck. 'I'm glad. I'm glad my first time was with you.'

'And the next time,' he adds with a smile in his voice.

'And the next time after that,' you giggle.

He grabs onto your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You sigh as you reach beneath his wings and gently smooth your other hand over his powerful backside.

Then you kiss his chest. 'I always hoped, I always dreamed, that it would be like this. It astounds me—I never thought it would ever happen. I always thought—' you wince as you think about it '—I always thought it would be Derrick or some other man from the village, big and sweaty and stinking, grunting on top of me, not caring how I felt, not caring that it hurt or I wasn't ready, only eager to fill me up with their seed so I can birth as many sons as possible.'

Now it's him smoothing his hand around your arse. 'Sounds horrible.'

'Yes. But my mother and grandmother endured it, and every generation of women before them.' You brush your face against his chest as tears wet your eyes. 'But Derrick won't have me now. No man will have me. And I'm glad. I'm so glad! I don't want to run a household. I don't want a dozen children. I don't want to be a prisoner. I just ... I just want to be free. To be me.'

He kisses the top of your head.

You sigh.