Chapter 14 - More Than She Bargained For

A slow, predatory grin stretched even further across his face at her strangled cough and the dazed look in her eyes. “That should about cover one bowl of stew,” he rumbled, the words deep and gravelly like stones rolling down a hillside.

Sarah’s head spun, dislodged from its fragile anchor on her shoulders by that unexpected statement. She blinked up at him, struggling to reconcile his rugged features with the oddity of his comment. The world swam around her in a dizzying haze of scent and sensation – the lingering warmth of his body heat against hers, the earthy sweetness still clinging heavy in the air, the faint metallic tang of spilled blood from where he'd scraped her lip on that first brutal thrust.

"One bowl..." she managed to croak, the word catching in her throat like a fishbone. It took several long moments for the connection to click into place, a slow dawning horror creeping up her face as realization crashed over her. Her eyes widened, fear blooming hot and sudden in her chest. "You're... you’re saying..."

"Maeva told me you had two bowls of soup last night," he interrupted with a low chuckle, stepping closer until his warmth enveloped her like a shroud. "And counting the porridge this mornin'," - he paused to flick a stray strand of hair from her face, brushing against her cheek with calloused fingers - "that makes two more rounds you owe me."

Sarah tried to sit up, protesting against the rough logic of it all, but her body betrayed her. The world tilted sideways again, and she crashed back onto the floor with a soft groan, a wave of nausea rising in her throat. His grin widened – predatory, knowing – as he watched her struggle to regain control.

He didn't hesitate for a second. Seizing his chance while she was still disoriented, he moved swiftly, pinning her arms down by the sides and rolling her effortlessly onto her back with a deft twist of his hips. He knelt astride her chest, his shadow falling like a dark curtain over her face as he pressed his weight down on her thighs. Sarah tried to cry out, but the sound died in a strangled gasp as his cock reappeared in her vision, impossibly thick and hard.

This time, it wasn't just thrusting – he was shoving now, pushing himself deep into her mouth with an urgency that left no room for negotiation. His balls hung directly in front of her eyes, pulsing against her nose like oversized grapes as their scent – musky and vaguely metallic – filled her nostrils.

She tried again to push him away, but his hand clamped down on each shoulder, pinning her arms firmly against the rough floorboards beneath her chest. She could feel every individual muscle in his powerful thighs flexing as he drove himself into her, the heat radiating from his body a palpable **** that seemed intent on melting her bones and rendering her utterly helpless. His cock stretched her open wider than before, and she swallowed involuntarily, taking him down deep – **** to keep him whole against the frantic drum of his pulsing rhythm.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured through gritted teeth as he began to work himself in and out of her mouth, a low groan rumbling in his chest that vibrated through her very core. "You'll get used to it."