FREE USE in Primitive World

Chapter 82: Chapter 82: Starving

But you can’t really blame him for misunderstanding that they were about to have sex, as he had judged so due to memories. He had assumed she was experienced, given her age and the generally loose morals of the primitive era.

And even though stuff like this wasn’t common here, it wasn’t rare either as long as others didn’t see private parts or touched them, it was completely okay to just do wherever you want just like animals, they feel heat do a quickie and be done.

But still he was wrong. She had been innocent. Untouched.

I broke her in like a whore before she had even known a man, Sol thought, looking at the trembling woman before him. I took her first experience… something that should have been sacred to her people… and turned it into… that.

“I tried,” Nia sobbed, interrupting his thoughts, unaware of his internal crisis. “After he vanished… the heat you left in me… it wouldn’t go away. I went to my furs alone. I tried to touch myself. I tried to find relief.”

She took another step, closing the distance, her eyes wild and pleading, wet with tears.

“But I felt nothing! It felt like… like dry wood rubbing against stone.” she continued, the confession tumbling out in a rush of shame. “My own hands felt like dead things. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it was you, but it wasn’t enough. My skin burns, Sol. It itches under the surface. I ache. I crave it. I crave you.”

A complicated mix of guilt and dark satisfaction churned in his gut. He had judged her based on his own assumptions, treating her like seasoned prey when she was actually an innocent fawn. But as he watched her shivering in the dirt, clutching her stomach as if she were starving.

The guilt lingered, but it was quickly overshadowed by the reality of the situation. Innocent or not, she was broken now. And watching her, a dark realization dawning on him. He checked his internal cavity. The Ash Gray energy was dormant. He wasn’t spending a single drop of power.

This wasn’t magic anymore. He realized. This was Pavlovian conditioning pushed to a supernatural extreme.

He had imprinted himself on her so thoroughly during their first encounter that her biology had rewritten itself to only respond to him. To her body, he was the only source of pleasure in the world; everyone else was just static.

It seemed he was right not to rush back then, to be patient with the conditioning. If he had just taken her normally, she wouldn’t be kneeling in the mud, craving him like a dying woman craves water.

“You’re sick,” Sol whispered, stepping closer to her, his shadow falling over her face.

“Yes, Yes, yes, I’m sick.” Nia wept, her breath reeks of desperation as she drops to her knees in front of him. ” Please… cure me. I can’t take the heat anymore.”

“Your seed…I dreamed of it,” she gasps, already hiking her loincloth up, revealing slick thighs still streaked with visible wet stains. Her cunt pulsing visibly, swollen and needy, as she grinds against his leg like a bitch in heat. “Fill me… please… I ached all night…!”

Sol looked down at her. The hunter’s wife, the proud woman, kneeling in the dirt, begging for him to ruin her again.

He couldn’t help feeling a deep dark satisfaction.

“Then take it,” he growled.

He didn’t need to be gentle. It was too late for that. He had already corrupted her; the only kindness left was to satisfy the hunger he had created.

Nia didn’t hesitate. She scrambled up, her hands frantic as she tore at his loincloth. The fabric fell away. Immediately, his already erect desire sprang free, slapping lightly against her cheek. Her voice cracked as she saw the blazing hot cock, already hard from her shameless display.

Seeing this, Nia froze. She looked at him like a starving addict finally seeing the needle. She didn’t shy away; she leaned in, taking the heavy length of him into both her hands. She brought her face closer, closing her eyes and taking a deep, satisfied sniff, inhaling his scent as if it were the air she needed to breathe.

Sol shuddered, seeing the intoxicated look on her face. Damn, she really is starving.

She was just about to move, hiking her own wrap up to straddle him right there in the grass, desperate to impale herself.

“Not so fast,” Sol said, his hand shooting out to grab her shoulder.

He pushed her back down firmly. She looked up at him begrudgingly, a whine trapping in her throat, her eyes confused and hurt.

He grinned, a predator toying with his meal. “If you want it inside you, you have to show it some love first. You have to earn the cure.”

She looked at him, confused for a moment, her gaze dropping back to the hardness in front of her face.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

She complied instantly, her jaw dropping open wide. Her tongue came out, slick with saliva, dripping onto her full, rounded lips in anticipation.

Seeing those wet, inviting lips, Sol’s control snapped.

He reached down, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her up to her feet. Before she could react, he crashed his mouth onto hers.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss by any means. It was a literal collision of hunger, a desperate meeting of two souls starving for contact.

Sol devoured her. His mouth moved over hers with a bruising intensity, his lips crushing hers against her teeth. He didn’t just kiss her; he drank from her. He pried her lips apart, his tongue invading her mouth to sweep the cavern of her palate, exchanging saliva with her, tasting the metallic tang of her fear, now turning into something sweeter.

Nia met him with equal fervor, a desperate keen vibrating in her throat, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him down as if she wanted to merge their bodies into one.