FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 109: My Turn


Evara was losing her mind. The friction was too much. She was drooling onto the furs, her eyes rolled back.

"Look at me," he commanded, turning her face to the side.

Evara's eyes were glazed, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she was smiling—a wild, broken smile. "Yes... harder... ruin me..."

"You like being used like this?" Sol asked, thrusting harder, his balls slapping against her clit.

"Yes!" she shrieked. "Use me! Take everything! I don't care! I'm yours!"

Sol grinned. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so her neck arched.

Sol felt the Primal Resonance peaking. His body was truly devouring her in. She was a bottomless well of vitality, and her eagerness, her lust, was opening the floodgates wide.

He reached around, his hand finding one of her heavy, swaying breasts. He squeezed hard, kneading the flesh, pinching the nipple. Evara cried out, her inner muscles clamping down even harder on his cock.

"That's it," Sol grunted, his breath ragged. "Tighten up. Squeeze me."

He picked up the pace, pounding into her with a speed that blurred the edges of pleasure and pain. . Evara screamed with every impact, her tits swinging wildly beneath her, her ass cheeks turning red from the force of his hips, she was making noises he had never heard a human make… guttural, desperate sounds of a woman completely undone.

Sol felt his climax building. The pressure in his balls was immense. But he held back. He wasn't going to finish yet. He wanted to see just how much she could take.

So, he suddenly pulled out with a wet plop.

Evara collapsed, whining at the loss of fullness. "No... no..."

Sol grabbed her shoulder and flipped her over. She lay on her back, breathless, sweat slicking her body like oil. Her legs were trembling, unable to close.

"We're not done," Sol said, looking down at her spread, ravished form. "I want to see your face when I fill you."

He grabbed her ankles and pushed her knees up to her chest, exposing her completely. He dove back in.

This time, face to face, the intimacy was terrifying. He could see every micro-expression… the roll of her eyes, the biting of her lip, the way her throat flushed red.

He thrust deep, watching her soul bare itself.

"Say it," Sol commanded, his voice thick with the Ash-Grey power. "Tell me who you belong to."

Evara looked up at him, her eyes lucid for just a second, filled with a terrifying devotion.

"Sol," she whispered. "I belong to Sol."

Sol grinned. He drove into her, harder, deeper, faster, preparing to plant his seed and harvest her fully.

So he drove into her, watching her eyes roll back, her mouth forming a silent 'O' of ecstasy. The connection was blazing hot… a river of vitality rushing from her womb into his shaft with every piston-like thrust.

He was close. The friction of her wet, clamping walls was dragging him toward the edge.

But just as his hips stuttered, preparing for the final release, Evara's eyes snapped open.

The glaze of submission vanished, replaced by a sudden, sharp clarity. A spark of the arrogance that defined her—the "lazy," proud widow who held her head high, even though whole tribe shunned her.

She slammed her hands against his chest.

"Stop," she gasped, pushing him.

Sol froze, his cock throbbing deep inside her. He looked down, surprised. "What?"

"You think..." Evara panted, wiping sweat-matted hair from her forehead. "You think you're the only one who gets to move? You think you can just use me like a rag?"

She dug her nails into his pectorals. "I am Evara. I buried a husband. I survived winters alone. You don't just take me, boy. You have to survive me."

Sol's lips curved into a dark grin. The Ash-Grey energy in his mind swirled, delighted by the resistance. Resistance meant passion. Passion meant more fuel.

"Is that a challenge?" Sol asked, withdrawing slowly until just the tip remained inside, teasing her stretch.

"It's a warning," she hissed.

She sat up, using her core strength to pull herself flush against him. She grabbed his shoulders and, with surprising strength, shoved him backward.

Sol let her. He fell back onto the pile of furs, his erection standing tall and glistening like a monolith in the firelight.

Evara scrambled over him. She didn't look like a victim now. She looked like a conqueror. She straddled his hips, her knees sinking into the soft pelts. She looked down at his cock… red, angry, and weeping pre-cum… and licked her lips hungrily.

"My turn," she whispered.

She reached back, spreading her ass cheeks with her hands. She positioned herself over him. Slowly, agonizingly, she lowered herself.

Squelch.

The sound was obscene. She swallowed him inch by inch, her eyes locked on his, challenging him to look away. When she was fully seated, hilt-deep, she let out a long, shuddering breath that rattled her heavy chest.

"You really are big, much bigger than my dead husband," she admitted, wiggling slightly to accommodate his width. "But I can take it. I can take all of it."

She began to ride.

It wasn't the frantic, bouncy rhythm of a novice. It was the slow, grinding churn of a woman who knew exactly how her body worked. She rolled her hips in deep circles, grinding her clitoris against his pubic bone while simultaneously milking his shaft with her internal muscles.

"Oh, god..." Sol groaned, his hands gripping the furs. The sensation was completely different. Passive absorption was one thing; this active, aggressive giving was another. The Vitality transfer doubled. Her movement was pumping energy into him.

Evara smirked, seeing his eyes lose focus. She sped up.

She grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the floor, leaning forward so her breasts swung in his face. "Look at them," she commanded. "You were staring earlier. Now look."

They were magnificent. Heavy, teardrop-shaped, bouncing with a hypnotic rhythm. The sweat on her skin made them gleam like oiled marble.

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