FREE USE in Primitive World

She didn't wait. she grabbed him, stroking him violently until he was rock hard again. Then, she didn't just mount him. She attacked him.

She spun around, straddling his chest instead of his hips. She leaned forward, Her hair was a wild, frizzy halo around her face, her eyes blazing with a feral light. She leaned forward, the heavy, sweat-slicked weight of her breasts swinging right in front of his face.

"Taste them," she ordered, her voice a husky growl. She shoved a dark, hardened nipple into his mouth.

Sol obeyed. He latched onto the nub, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive areola. The taste was intoxicating—salt, sweat, and the distinct, metallic tang of female arousal.

"Mmm..." Evara moaned, her head thrown back.

She began to grind her hips. She wasn't sitting on his cock yet; she was rubbing her soaking wet pussy against his chest. Sol felt the slime of her excitement smearing over his pectorals, hot and sticky. She moved in slow, figure-eight circles, painting him with her scent, marking him as hers.

"You feel that?" she hissed, looking down at him. "That's how wet you make me. I'm drowning in it."

She didn't stay there. She was restless, driven by a biological imperative to be filled. She slid down his body, her skin dragging against his with delicious friction. But she didn't mount him normally.

She turned her back to him.

She lifted her hips high, reaching back with her hand to grab his erection. It was standing tall, veiny and brutal, twitching with anticipation. She guided the purple head to her entrance.

But she didn't sit. She laid back.

The Lazy Man (Reverse).

She lay on top of him, back to chest, her legs bent at the knee. She arched her spine, opening her canal, and impaled herself. She slid down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until her ass was resting heavily on his stomach and the back of her head was on his shoulder.

"Now," she hissed, grabbing his knees for leverage, her nails digging into his skin. "Work."

Sol grinned. It was a brilliant choice. This position allowed him to thrust upward into her—using the power of his glutes—while she ground down. It was intimate, lazy in theory, but incredibly deep in practice. Because she was lying flat, her internal organs shifted, allowing him access to depths he hadn't reached yet.

He thrust up.

"OH!" Evara gasped, her body jerking.

Sol didn't stop. He began a rhythmic, punishing upward stroke. He bridged his hips, driving the full length of his shaft into her, flattening her against his body.

But Evara wasn't being lazy. She was grinding like a woman possessed. She clamped her internal muscles around him, twisting her hips in sharp, jerky circles, trying to milk the sensation from every angle.

"Deeper!" she screamed, throwing her head back so it rested beside his. Her hair spilled over his face, smelling of smoke and sex. "Touch my soul, Sol! I want to feel you in my throat!"

"You're a demon," Sol laughed, the sound vibrating against her back. He grabbed her waist, holding her down as he thrust upward with powerful glute bridges. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. The sound of their bodies colliding was wet and loud.

"I'm a tiger!" she roared back, baring her teeth at the ceiling. "And I'm eating you alive!"

She was ferocious. She dug her nails into his legs, drawing blood. She bit her own lip until it bled, the copper taste fueling her frenzy. She was consuming him just as much as he was harvesting her.

Sol felt the energy exchange becoming a vortex. It wasn't just one-way anymore. They were feeding off each other, a loop of lust and power that threatened to burn the hut down. The Vitality pouring off her was scalding hot, a golden fire that rushed into his cock and spread through his veins, hardening his bones, knitting his flesh.

"Cum inside me again!" she demanded, bouncing on him, her internal walls squeezing him like a fist. "I need more! I'm empty!"

"You're insatiable," Sol grunted, grabbing her hips to stabilize her wild movements.

"Fill me! Fill the widow!"

Sol knew they were reaching the limit. Even his enhanced body had a breaking point, and Evara was pushing hers dangerously close to exhaustion. If they continued this frantic, animalistic pounding, she would pass out before the harvest was complete.

"One last time," Sol said, stopping his thrusts. He sat up, using his core strength to pull her up with him. "But we end it right. Together."

Evara whined at the pause, reaching for him, but Sol was firm. He laid them both on their sides, facing each other on the matted furs.

The firelight flickered low, casting long shadows across their intertwined bodies. Sol looked into her eyes. They were wild, dilated, beautiful—the eyes of a woman who had forgotten her name, her status, her grief.

"Wrap me up," he whispered.

Evara understood. The frenzy bled away, replaced by a desperate, clinging need. She bent her legs, spreading them wide. Sol lifted his top leg and draped it over her waist. She did the same, hooking her leg over his. Their limbs intertwined, locking them together in a complex knot of flesh.

Gift Wrapped. Also known as The Horny Mantis.

It was the most intimate position possible. Their chests were pressed together, nipple against nipple. Their hearts were beating in sync, a frantic double-rhythm. Their groins were locked in a perfect seal.

Sol entered her.

Because of the intertwined legs, he couldn't thrust fast. There was no room for momentum. He had to thrust slow, and he had to thrust deep. Every inch of movement rubbed against her clitoris and her cervix simultaneously. It was a grinding, agonizingly slow friction that set every nerve ending on fire.

Evara let out a soft, broken sob. "Sol..."

"I'm here," he whispered, kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, tasting the salt of her sweat. "I'm right here."