Unnatural Instinct: Blood Run

8.

He's even more thorough than the last time. It takes a while and when he's done he sits back on his knees and licks his lips. His eyes glitter at you, and though he's only recently expended himself on the tree, his penis is already getting big again.

You watch as it grows, your head braced up against the back of the shelter, your breasts heaving as you pant. Your thighs are still wide open and you leave them that way. Your body is burning and it only burns more as you watch. Seeing your fascination, he looks down at himself and smooths his hand along it, making it engorge more quickly. It's sickening, it's terrifying ... it's ... it's ...

You lick your lips, unwilling to put a word to your feelings.

He stares at you and you stare at him. Your breathing turns fast and shallow as he crawls over. You don't stop him when he slides his way between your legs. He's so warm. The muscles in his back are bunched and hard. His hazel eyes burn green.

He's partway up your body, looking at you, when he lowers his face and licks you in the belly button. The breath catches in your throat as he continues up your middle, licking along your torso, leaving a trail of wetness behind that tingles against your skin. When he reaches your breasts he pauses. His hands are fisted in the pelts; the muscles in his biceps strain as he hovers over you. His breath is hot against your nipples. A vein bulges in his forehead. What's he going to do?

'What—what are you going to do?' you say breathlessly.

He licks his lips and again he lowers his face. You gasp, arching your neck as he takes your entire left breast into his mouth. In your surprise you almost push him away—almost. Your hands are against his shoulders but do nothing except rest there. His flesh feels so hard beneath your grip and you suddenly realise that this is the first time you've touched him. Really touched him.

You gasp again as he releases your breast with a wet suck before enveloping you again. Release. Envelop. Release. Envelop. Then he's onto your right breast, repeating the process. You let go of his shoulders to grip his head where you knot your fingers through his hair, yanking at every suck, relaxing at every release. It must hurt—you yank hard—but he doesn't seem to notice.

As you revel in these new, astonishing sensations, you can't help but notice the way he moves against you. He uses his whole body, rocking back and forth between your legs at every suck and release, and for reasons you can't understand it makes you tingle—it makes you burn—seeing him that way. You begin to rock with him instinctively as you watch the big muscles in his shoulders and back slide under his skin. His backside is the same: lifting then sinking, lifting then sinking.

With one last wet suck, he pulls back. A second vein is throbbing in his forehead as he looks at you. He seems to be almost in a daze, his eyes dark and dreamy-like. Sitting back on his knees between your thighs, he gazes at you. He's flushed in his face and chest. He's breathing fast. Your eyes lower to the hardness between his legs. It doesn't seem so bad—the thought of having it inside you. You've never felt so empty down there before, and it's an unfamiliar, startling sensation.

Your wet nipples tingle; your hips burn. Does he really have to wait another three days? The thought shocks you. What are you thinking? He kidnapped you. He took you from your bed as you screamed for him to stop. He chased you through the forest when you tried to escape him. And now he's controlling you. You're his victim. You shouldn't like this at all!

He smooths his hand over his throbbing length and despite your desperate thoughts you can't help but stare. Up and down he moves his hand, just like he did at the tree. He's studying you as he does, his eyes roving over the hot, wet region between your legs, your hips, thighs and waist and slippery wet breasts. He grunts and licks his lips as he yanks at himself harder.

Everybody back home knows about the male anatomy. It's taught in school. You teach it in school. But they're only ever drawings. The real thing is so different. So much different. You never understood how alive it really is—until now. It looks angry the faster he yanks, turning from pink to red to purple, swelling and lengthening to something beyond what you assumed it capable of. It trembles in the air as it points at you between your thighs.

Finally, it's over. The muscles in his chest and shoulders bunch up, then expand, as he thrusts back his head and ejaculates onto you with a growl. You jerk back with a start, banging your head against the wall of the shelter as a long creamy worm of his essence coils on your belly. It's so hot against your skin. It's revolting.

With a shout of disgust, you try to scramble away, but all he does is seize your hips and pull you closer. And there he rubs you down, smoothing his semen into your skin with his big, broad hands.

'Yuck, yuck, yuck!' you squawk, thrashing against him helplessly. You know what he's doing. He's marking you again. Marking you as his possession. 'Stop it!'

He doesn't listen, rubbing down your torso and hips and between your thighs. He's surprisingly gentle as he smears it across your opening.

Finally he's done and you get away, stumbling to your feet as you back up against the wall. You're sticky and wet. You want to wipe yourself down but you don't want to touch it with your hands. 'Yuck, yuck, yuck!' you shriek as you shake your hands and stomp the ground, as though you can be rid of it by shaking it off.

You look past his shoulder. Suddenly, the icy-cold stream doesn't seem so repellent. You try to race around him but he shoves you back into the pelts. You collapse to your arse and before you have a chance to get to your feet again, he's grabbed a coil of rope and is pinning you down, gripping your wrists in one big hand while clamping your thighs together with his knees. In one quick move, he flips you over and drags you closer to the wall. You scream and kick and bite as he ties your hands together with the rope before looping the end of the rope around the branches that make up the wall.

And now you're stuck. You twist around to face him. Your wrists are tied high above your head as you sit with your back up against the hard wall. You can hardly move, other than your legs which you flail about uselessly.

'Let me go!'

He doesn't listen, showing you his back as he removes a large, broad knife from the netting on the wall, followed by a spear which you didn't notice lying on the floor against the length of the same wall.

'Where are you going!' you call after him as he leaves the shelter. 'You can't leave me like this!'

He disappears into the trees.