Page 50 of Coyote

He hummed, pleased. "I'm full." His mouth came down close to mine. "I'm all right."

He kissed me and bit my lower lip on his way out of it. Then he lifted himself, and the drag of him nearly finished me. He sank back down and I groaned into his mouth. Coyote did it again. Each movement grew easier. Longer. He took me deeper on every drop while I lay under him and let him have it.

My hips lifted by instinct and pain bit across my ribs.

Coyote shoved me flat. "No."

"I need to move."

"You need to keep those stitches in."

"Little one."

"I said I'd do the work."

He sat upright.

The sight of him almost killed me. He had a chest pockmarked with scars: bites and burns and lines where knives and other sharp things had caught him. A thin line of dark hair ran from his navel to his cock. His hands spread across my stomach while my cock disappeared completely inside him and he started to ride.

He started off easy, lifting until only the head remained, then taking me back to the root. His thighs tightened around my hips. Each downward stroke pushed the breath out of both of us.

I gripped the bedroll and gritted my teeth.

Coyote smirked. "Want to grab me?"

"Yes."

"Ask."

"Let me touch you."

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

His smile was all teeth. "Start with my hips."

I closed my hands around his hips and they nearly spanned his waist. Coyote rocked harder. My thumbs pressed into the hollows beside his hip bones. I guided without controlling, following the rhythm he set.

"That's it." He came down and kissed me, filthy and off center, and said it into my lips. "Feel how much of you I can take."

"I feel it."

"Tell me."

"All of it." My voice broke. "You're taking all of me."

He shuddered and picked up the pace.

Coyote rode me harder, using my body beneath him while I fought every instinct that told me to thrust. His cock bounced against his stomach while sweat ran down his chest.

"You like being used, big man?"

"Yes."

"You like lying there while I take what I want?"

"Christ. Yes."