Chapter 4: Climax in the Woods
The air hung thick and still, the only sound the frantic chittering of a squirrel high in the canopy and the ragged symphony of their own breathing. Cam slumped forward, her cheek pressed against the coarse bark of the log, muscles trembling violently. Griffin’s weight pinned her hips, his chest heaving against her back, his cock still buried deep within her, pulsing with the last aftershocks of his release. The scent of sex – musky, sweet, and raw – clashed violently with the clean, damp earth and pine. A bead of sweat traced a path down her spine, cool where it met the air.
"Jesus," Griffin rasped, the word puffing warm against her shoulder. His grip on her hips slowly loosened, his fingers leaving faint, crescent-shaped impressions in her skin. He withdrew from her slowly, a slick, obscene sound accompanying his exit. Cam whimpered at the sudden emptiness, the oversensitivity, the sticky wetness left behind. He shifted, his hands sliding up her sides, turning her gently towards him. His warm brown eyes, usually so soft, were still dark with spent lust, but concern began to flicker through the haze. "Cam? Look at me, baby."
She turned her head, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown, cheeks flushed crimson beneath her freckles. Her breath hitched. A tear, unbidden, escaped the corner of one eye and tracked through the smudged dirt on her temple. She looked utterly wrecked – hair tangled with leaves, dress bunched around her waist, revealing the pink marks from his hands and the bark on her thighs and palms.
"Shit," Griffin breathed, his voice rough but instantly softer. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing away the tear. "Did I hurt you? Too much?" His gaze darted over her, taking in the scrapes, the flush, the way her lower lip trembled. "Fuck, Cam, I’m sorry. I lost it back there. Seeing you like that… kneeling… that fucking dress…" He trailed off, shaking his head, genuine remorse warring with the possessiveness still simmering beneath the surface. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. Her body felt fragile against his, still trembling. "Talk to me. Please."
Cam buried her face in the damp cotton of his t-shirt. His familiar scent – soap and woods and now them – was strangely grounding. "N-no," she stammered, her voice muffled. "Not… hurt. Not exactly." She shuddered, the intensity of what just happened hitting her in waves. "So… much. All at once." She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her expression a tangle of confusion and lingering arousal. "It was… Griffin… I didn’t know I could feel… that."
Relief softened his features. He kissed her forehead, then her temple, his lips gentle against her skin. "Good," he murmured. "That’s good. You were incredible." His hand slid down her back, settling on her bare hip. "But we need to get you cleaned up." He glanced around, his gaze sharpening as it landed on a patch of large, waxy leaves nearby and the moss-covered rock they’d been examining earlier. "Stay here."
He moved with swift efficiency. Grabbing a handful of the broad leaves, he hurried to a rivulet of rainwater trickling over the mossy rock, soaking the leaves. He returned, kneeling before her. With surprising tenderness, he began cleaning her inner thighs, the soft, cool leaves wiping away the evidence of their coupling. His touch was careful, reverent, a stark contrast to the raw possession of moments before. Cam watched him, a complex warmth spreading through her – gratitude, lingering arousal, a dawning sense of power. He was utterly focused on her, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration.
"Better?" he asked softly, discarding the used leaves.
She nodded, her cheeks still warm. "Yeah. Thanks." She smoothed her dress down, wincing slightly as the fabric brushed over her scraped knees.
Griffin saw it. His eyes hardened for a split second. "Fuck. The log." He pulled her towards the moss-covered rock. It was smoother, curved. "Sit." He guided her down onto the thick, cool moss. Then, without ceremony, he shrugged off his backpack and unzipped his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He wore no underwear. His cock, already thickening again despite his recent release, lay heavy against his thigh. Cam’s breath caught. He knelt before her, nudging her knees apart. His hands slid up her thighs, pushing the rumpled dress up to her waist again.
He didn’t look up her dress this time. He leaned in.
His mouth found her inner thigh first, lips soft, tongue tracing a hot, wet path upwards. Cam gasped, her fingers instinctively tangling in his messy brown hair. He nuzzled the sensitive skin, his breath warm. Then, slowly, deliberately, he kissed her mound through the damp cotton of her panties. She whimpered, hips lifting slightly. His tongue pressed against the fabric, finding the swollen nub of her clit beneath. A jolt of pure electricity shot through her.
"Oh god," she breathed, her head falling back against the cool, mossy stone.
He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and pulled them down her legs, discarding them carelessly. His gaze locked onto her exposed sex, glistening and pink, still puffy from his earlier possession. A low groan rumbled in his chest. "So pretty," he murmured, his voice thick. "So fucking wet again already. For me?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He buried his face between her thighs.
His tongue was hot, demanding, exploring her with a possessive intimacy that stole her breath. He lapped at her entrance, tasting her deeply, then focused his attention on her clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, flicking it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue. Cam cried out, her back arching off the rock. His fingers joined his mouth, two sliding inside her with ease, finding that spot inside her that made her vision blur. He crooked them, rubbing firmly while his tongue worked her clit in tight, rapid circles.
"Yes! Griffin! Right there! Please!" Her pleas were ragged, desperate. The world narrowed to the relentless, wet heat between her legs, the scrape of his stubble on her inner thighs, the sounds – his hungry sucking, the slick slide of his fingers, her own gasps and moans echoing slightly in the quiet woods. The pleasure was sharp, intense, building faster this time, amplified by the lingering sensations from before and the sheer vulnerability of being open to him like this. Her thighs clamped instinctively around his head, holding him there.
"Fuck yeah, baby," he growled against her flesh, his tongue never slowing. "Squeeze my head. Milk my tongue. Come for me. Come all over my fucking face."
His command, raw and filthy, shattered her control. The orgasm ripped through her, a white-hot wave that pulsed from her core, radiating outwards. She screamed, her body rigid, hips bucking against his relentless mouth as he lapped at her, drawing out every last shuddering spasm until she collapsed, boneless and gasping, onto the moss.
He lifted his head, his lips and chin slick with her. He looked up at her, his eyes blazing, a primal satisfaction etched on his face. He crawled up her body, his cock, hard and leaking, pressing against her hip. He kissed her, deep and possessive, letting her taste herself on his tongue. It was shockingly intimate, deeply erotic.
"Ride me," he commanded, his voice a rough whisper against her lips. "I need to feel you move on me. Take what you want."
The command, coupled with the dizzying aftermath of her climax, ignited a boldness in Cam she hadn't known she possessed. She pushed him gently onto his back on the thick moss. His eyes widened slightly, then darkened with approval as he watched her. She straddled his hips, her knees sinking into the soft ground on either side of him. She reached down, her fingers wrapping around the thick heat of his cock, guiding it. The head nudged against her slick entrance. She held his gaze, those warm brown eyes now burning with pure, unadulterated need for her. No shyness now. Only a fierce, trembling desire.
Slowly, deliberately, she sank down onto him.
It was different this time. No sudden invasion. She controlled the angle, the depth, the excruciatingly slow slide as he filled her inch by inch. She felt every ridge, every pulse of his cock as her inner walls stretched to accommodate him. A low moan escaped her lips as she finally seated herself fully, taking him to the hilt. He felt enormous inside her, stretching her deliciously, the sensation a perfect blend of fullness and friction. She paused, adjusting, feeling the tension coiling low in her belly again already.
"Fuck, Cam," Griffin groaned, his hands finding her hips, fingers digging in. "You feel… unreal. God, look at you."
She began to move. Tentatively at first, a slow, rocking grind, savoring the deep drag within her. Then bolder, rising up until only the head remained inside before sinking down again, taking him deep. She found a rhythm, her body moving instinctively, her hips rolling, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone with each downward stroke. Pleasure sparked, white-hot, building quickly. The raw intimacy of riding him, of seeing the pure, desperate hunger on his face as he watched her take her pleasure, was intoxicating.
"Yeah," Griffin hissed, his grip tightening, helping her lift and fall. His hips surged upwards to meet her downward strokes, driving himself even deeper. "Just like that. Use my cock. Milk it. Fuck, your cunt’s gripping me like a fist." His gaze dropped to where their bodies joined, watching himself disappear into her again and again. "So wet. So fucking tight. Taking me so good, baby."
His filthy words, the slap of skin on skin, the slick sounds of her taking him deep – it was overwhelming, glorious. Cam lost herself in the rhythm, in the building pressure, in the raw power of controlling this connection. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, her hair falling around them like a curtain. Her movements became faster, more urgent, chasing the cresting wave of her own climax, spurred on by his hoarse encouragement and the relentless friction.
"Griffin," she gasped, her voice breaking. "I'm... oh god... I'm gonna..."
"Come," he commanded, his voice ragged, his own control fraying. "Come on my cock. Squeeze it. Make me come inside you again."
His words tipped her over. Her inner walls clamped down hard around his thick shaft in rhythmic pulses. She cried out, her body convulsing, her hips stuttering against his as pure ecstasy flooded her senses. Griffin roared, a sound ripped from deep within his chest. His hands locked onto her hips, holding her down hard as he thrust upwards, burying himself impossibly deep. She felt the hot, liquid surge as he pulsed inside her, filling her, his release triggering fresh tremors in her own fading climax. He held her there, impaled, his cock throbbing within her as he emptied himself, his body shuddering beneath hers.
They collapsed together onto the moss, a tangle of limbs and sweat-slicked skin, breathing in ragged unison. Griffin’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close, her face pressed against the pounding pulse in his neck. The scent of sex, earth, and pine was overwhelming. Cam floated in a haze of utter depletion and profound satisfaction. He was still inside her, softening now, a warm, sticky reminder.
After a long moment, Griffin shifted slightly, brushing a sweat-damp strand of hair from her forehead. His voice was a low rumble against her temple. "We never did find the fucking Bloodroot."