I nuzzle her hair, cock hard as steel. She could be my mate. I’ll bathe her and wrap her in furs and keep her safe from the Donnys of the world. I’ll find food for her. There’s a hilltop I would bring her to where you can watch the sunrise light the trees and paint the water pink. I’ll hold her down and fuck her and care for her. I would never let her go.
She groans and shifts against my cock, sleepy and sweet. I put my mouth to the back of her neck and taste her and breathe her in, letting her sweetness flood my senses.
She was different at the hospital. Wary. On edge. Here she’s soft. I move my lips to her ear, taste her skin there, cock pressed to her back.
I move my hands over her hair. She’s so warm, body so soft and sweet. She’s betraying me, yet I can’t stop liking her.
I want her affection, too. Not fake affection but real affection.
That’s something I can’t have.
I tell myself I don’t need it. I’ll take her either way.
I reach around to her belly, push my hands under her shirt and touch her skin. Her belly isn’t hard and rough like mine; it’s smooth and soft. I spread my hand and pull her ass to me. I nearly lose it right there, separated from her warmth by mere layers of fabric. I imagine bending her over the bed, her ass pale and bare, her pussy open to me.
Right then, I catch the scent of her arousal, and everything in me surges to life. I’ve woken up her body, but not her mind.
I imagine tasting her. She’d struggle, but I wouldn’t let her. I’d plunge my tongue into her warmth. My tongue and my fingers.
I imagine her out in a sunny field, naked, rolling on her back, looking up at me, baring herself to me, waiting for me.
I stroke her soft belly. She hisses out a sleepy breath and moves with me.
Slowly, gently, I push my hand down and graze her waistband.
Her breath is like the water, slow and deep. I pull her closer.
Her rhythmic breathing tells me she’s still sleeping.
Still I touch her.
Savage, the drugged campers said, laughing.You fuck like a savage.I didn’t fully understand what they were saying until I saw the TV and all the gentle people.
I was a sideshow to them, too. A freak. A savage fuck. I didn’t know.
I stroke her belly, making her breath speed up.
She sighs in her sleep.
The camping girls would joke that I was raised by wolves. They didn’t understand that I actually was, in a way. They walked around naked and drugged with their glowing necklaces and bracelets. They would touch my hair.
They would rip their clothes off and run from me, laughing. They liked me to chase them and fuck them. The drugs made them crazy to touch and be chased. Eventually, I didn’t care that they saw me as an oddity. I was a teenager by then, and all I wanted to do was to fuck.
At least they weren’t keeping me in a cage. At least they didn’t pretend to be my ally when they just wanted to use me for my story.
We move together, animated by lust. Her body responds to me, moving against me.
A jolt moves through her. She spins in my arms with fear in her eyes. She pushes me away and clambers off the bed and onto the floor. She stands there, shocked. “What are you doing?”
I rise out of the bed, swaying on my feet.
In a flash, she turns and bolts for the bathroom—not fast enough.
I follow her and trap her against the wall next to the bathroom door. She’s shaking, frightened. I’m a savage to her.
I shouldn’t care what she thinks. My heart thunders with the need to bend her over and take her. The feel of her is overpowering. Her scent, her softness.
But this is Ann. I protect Ann—even from myself.