Deep in the forest, where shadows play, Where whispers of leaves know secrets untold,
He claims the moment, fierce yet slow, A master of patience, of fire controlled.

My back meets bark, rough yet yielding, Nature conspires in wicked delight.
Moonlight filters through trembling leaves, Bathing us in forbidden light.

His hands—no, not touching, not yet— Hover close, a torment refined.
A feathered breath upon my skin, A shiver blooms, desire unwinds.

You map me with presence, with teasing restraint, Tracing circles just out of reach.
Near my heat but never in, A cruel and exquisite speech.

Every brush of air, every ghost of a touch, Sets nerves ablaze, a delicious ache.
I arch, I plead, a silent moan— You smirk, you linger, you make me wait.

A fingertip, a whisper-thin graze, Dances closer, a storm unfurled.
Electric longing, coiling, climbing, Holding me tight in this untamed world.

And when at last your fingers dare, Skimming edges, teasing deep,
My body shudders, lost to waves, Cresting high, then diving steep.

Again, again—relentless tide, Each peak higher, searing bright.
My surrender, wild and wanting, Breaks beneath the forest night.

A growl, a gasp, a shattered cry, The forest hums, the moonlight sways.
And in your arms, in reckless bliss, I am yours—forever claimed.

But this night is far from over.
You circle back, testing limits, unraveling control, and I am nothing but breath and heat.

The wind carries the sound of my gasps through the trees, blending with the rustle of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl. Everything is alive, pulsing in tandem with my heartbeat.

Your  fingers glide over my collarbone, drawing invisible patterns, marking territory without claiming it just yet.

My skin ignites where you linger, where you refuse to linger, where the tension coils and holds.
I am shaking now, anticipation tightening with every second you refuse to give in.

I tilt my head back, surrendering more of my throat to you, offering my pulse. You lean in, breath hot, teasing, lips barely brushing my skin before pulling away.

I whimper—you relish the sound. A low chuckle vibrates against my chest as you finally drags his mouth downward, slow, excruciating, just close enough to feel but never truly touch.

My body is a canvas of need, painted in shivers and gasps. Every nerve is on fire, every moment stretched unbearably long. You take his time, exploring me with presence, sculpting pleasure out of longing.

Your hands never move where I want them, where I crave them. You linger just above, just around, tracing the shape of my desire without ever fulfilling it.

The tension builds, a symphony of want, a crescendo yet to break. My fingers dig into the bark behind me, anchoring me to the moment as waves of need roll through me, higher, heavier.

You watch, fascinated, enthralled by my unraveling,
by my slow descent into something deeper than surrender.

And then, finally—finally—your touch changes.
The teasing fades, replaced by something more intense, more deliberate.
The air between us crackles as you move closer, as your fingers press just a little harder, as your lips graze lower.
The world narrows to this, to you, to me, to the unbearable sweetness of giving in.

At last, you claim me fully, sinking into my depths with slow, agonizing precision. A gasp shatters the night as you fill me completely, stretching, molding, possessing.

You move with measured restraint, each thrust deliberate, each retreat a promise of more. The forest bears witness to our rhythm, the push and pull of pleasure unbound.

You hold me there, at the edge of sensation, keeping me in the sweet torment of anticipation.
My body clenches around him, desperate for more, for release, for the obliteration that only you can bring.
Your hands grip my hips, grounding me, commanding me, guiding me through the rising tide.

Slow, steady, deeper—your thrusts grow stronger, pushing me higher, carrying me toward the inevitable storm.

The pleasure builds, unbearable, exquisite, coiling tighter and tighter until I am trembling, burning, breaking.

And, as if the heavens themselves surrender, the waves crash over me, first in tremors, then in violent bursts of bliss, cascading one after another, unstoppable, endless.

You drive me through each crest, holding me against you as I shatter again and again, pleasure consuming me, reshaping me. The world blurs, lost in the haze of sensation, of surrender, of you.

And as the last wave crashes, as my body quakes in you arms, you claim me once more, filling me with the last, deepest surge of pleasure—a final, earth-shaking explosion that leaves us both breathless beneath the stars.

And in the silence that follows, tangled in moonlight and the scent of pine, I know—I am yours, and you are mine, forever bound by the wild and the night.

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