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The two of you had eventually set up a tent in the event of a chilly night or a downpour, but with the cool spring air offering refreshing caresses against your skin, you felt confident enough to remain outside. What little clouds the night has to offer are stretched thinly like strips of cotton wool that have been dipped in ink, the sky casting ombré hues of indigos and purples.
Though those scenes are what you had previously been looking at, your gaze currently fixed on the mop of raven hair that’s kissing its way down your stomach, stray braids tickling your skin. Reclining into the bedrolls and blankets that keep your naked skin from the earth beneath you, you sigh as the kisses approach more sensitive zones, his hands accompanying the journey in stroking back and forth on your hips.
He dips his tongue into your navel, which draws out a sharp breath from you, blush spreading in your cheeks like watercolours bleeding onto a page. With your thighs resting either side of his head, his hands roam over to the inner side of them, his tongue still dancing on your lower abdomen, leaving sparks with every damp stroke.
Tangling your fingers in his hair, you find yourself cooing his birth name, “Ratonhnhaké:ton.”
He freezes in his tracks, peeking up at you with a blinking gaze. You’re about to ask him what the matter is when he sits on his heels and leans over you, crushing his lips against yours in a swift motion. He always loves hearing you say his real name, but hearing you speak it so… erotically for the first time has him lose all train of thought, simply wishing to pepper you with kisses and feel your tongue flicking in rhythm with his.
Pushing his chest and resting your forehead on his, you gulp down air, opening your eyes and admiring the way his braids shower over his face like a curtain. Combing his hair back, you smile sweetly up at him, encouraging him to continue with his previous actions.
You’re surprised by his enthusiasm when he goes down on you, convinced by the smooth rolls of his tongue that he’s been looking at tips. Not that his technique before was anything to complain about, but dear God his new method has you shivering, goosebumps erupting under your skin. Raking your fingers along the blanket, you give in to the pleasure consuming you.
He flattens his tongue like a spearhead and slips it in and out of your pussy, lapping up your juices and moaning audibly, the vibrations of his lips doing wondrous things to your body. Rolling his tongue up to your clit, his lips soaked with your juices, he engulfs the bundle of nerves with his mouth, striking at it from every direction with short quick licks.
With a gentle suck, he traces a circle with the tip of his tongue, his hands massaging your thighs. He can feel the tremors surge through you, announcing how close you are to orgasm without verbalising it.
His hands move to your sex, a finger either side of the lips and spreading them. He takes a moment to marvel at the shine of your arousal, at the buttery-sweet scent of your leaking juices, before resuming his sensual torment on your clit.
With your clit fully exposed, he flicks his tongue, experimenting speeds and pressures until he finds one that has you sobbing unceremoniously. He takes his middle finger, stroking the scorching heat of your entrance before slipping it inside, thrusting slowly.
He can’t believe how much you come, your juices rushing out and coating his hand. With a bright red face, you pant down air, cursing, your body trembling. With one final swipe of his tongue, he savours your divine taste with a pleased hum.
He seems unbothered by the wet patch, sitting on his heels and letting his lips wander up your body. He takes special care to stop at your nipples, firm and jutting out against the air, giving them loving sucks and stretching the skin with his mouth before letting them go with a wet ‘pop’.
Bracing his arm by your head, he bumps noses with you, a simple gesture that has you moaning blissfully at the repercussions - you inhale your own scent coating his lips, drawing him in to lap up the taste of your own come.
You’re distracted by his heady kisses, intoxicated by his tongue dancing with yours, that you almost don’t notice him positioning himself, lining his cock up at your entrance after a few strokes, pulling the foreskin back in preparation.
He brushes your lips with the tip of his cock, feeling you tense up and moan against his lips. He pulls away for just a second, muttering, “Relax,” before kissing you again; it’s like your lips are magnets pulled to eachother.
You feel the delicious stretch as he pushes the head against your entrance, the thorough foreplay making him glide the bulbous tip in smoothly. You hook your leg over his, the burning in your nerves delicious and leaving you craving more.
He withdraws his length, stimulating the walls by your entrance with a few gentle rubs, teasing you with what you could have buried in you. You barely manage to plead through heavy kisses, but it’s all he needs.
He snaps his hips forward and fills you with a groan. You ooh, wrapping your arms around his neck, your body pleasantly on fire. For a few thrusts, he doesn’t kiss you, simply resting his forehead on yours, his eyes closed, his breath fanning over your face.
“Oh-h, God!” You stutter, the needy tone encouraging him to open his eyes, his breath hitching at your face twisting in pleasure.
Your eyes are creased shut, your eyebrows furrowed, your lip pouting, your cheeks a healthy shade of pink. His pelvis grinds against your clit with every in stroke, his cock twitching against your walls, marvelling at the tightness that hugs his length.
With his chest flush and heaving against yours, you feel his full weight, and it’s comforting despite his past concerns of crushing you. It’s sensual even, to feel his body on top of yours. Your hands move frantically, gripping his shoulders, cupping his face, brushing his hair back and dishevelling it with gentle tugs.
The rhythm is euphoric, your head rolls back and exposes your neck which he takes full advantage of without missing a beat. His kisses trail down your throat, sucking lightly at the hollow of your neck, brushing his lips across to the side and leaving little flames in his wake.
He now sucks on the side of your neck, marking you with love bites when an idea pops into your head, something new that the two of you had yet to experience.
Pushing lightly on his chest, you moan, “C-Connor, stop.”
He stops without hesitation, withdrawing and looking down at you with a guilty look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, was I hurting you?”
You cock your head, shaking it with a coy smile.
“Will you let me try something?”
He looks on, baffled, but nods. Sitting up, you peck the bridge of his nose and thank him, rolling flat onto your stomach and guiding Connor on top. He kneels with his thighs bordering yours, your ass raised slightly. You continue guiding him for a moment, but relax when he slips back into you under your instruction, letting your head fall into your folded arms.
You moan sinfully, quivering slightly. His cock feels even bigger like this, and he can’t even comprehend how wonderful the tightness feels with your thighs pressed together. His palms splay out across your lower back, curving around your ass and cupping it with a cheeky squeeze, rutting his hips into you with a back and forth sway. Your toes curl in this position, cooing sensually into the night, unafraid to be as vocal as your throat will allow.
Connor follows your example, grunting and thrusting into you with his hips slapping against your ass. An audience is the least of his concerns, it’s part of the reason he chose such an isolated location. You stretch your body, your hands grabbing the edge of the bed roll, stuttering his name.
He snaps his head back, not registering the sharp dig of his nails into the cushiony skin of your bottom. You wail, loving this new side of him.
“Co-Connor, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”
You finish moments later with a loud shriek, your body taut as the shockwaves ripple through you. Your veins burn brightly, blood buzzing behind your eyelids and in your ears. Your head spinning, you drop it to the blanket, bracing your arms with hunched shoulders as you feel him continue to pound into you.
No sooner had the orgasm die down did you feel it resurface again, the tingling in your stomach making your cries escalate out of control.
“Just one more,” he ushers.
A command? From Connor? You briefly ponder, but you don’t have time to linger on the thought, the burning waves of your orgasm rolling over you, leaving you jerking, panting and gulping down air.
He praises you, his hand smoothing over your cheeks with gentle caresses. With just a few more snaps of his hips, he lets out a groan of his own, thrusting deep and shooting his come, splattering your walls with his seed.
The sudden heat is indescribable, feeling him pulsate against your own pulse is nothing short of exquisite. You feel his come drip down your thighs before he’s even pulled out, making you whimper and nuzzle your face in the blanket.
Your body is too numb to move, even something as simple as rolling over to face him. Withdrawing his cock, Connor reaches for a canister nearby and gulps the water down, offering you some after wiping his mouth dry. He chuckles at the way you groan at having to move your muscles, perfectly content to nap in your post-orgasmic bliss. But the scratch of your parched throat convinces you otherwise. Sitting up with a dramatic stretch before chugging your share of water, you wish you could just drench your face with the cold liquid to cool down.
Your entire face is ruddy and sweaty, but you catch Connor staring at you as if you’re the most beautiful you’ve ever been. Gathering you into his arms, he litters kisses all over your face and hair, murmuring how much he loves you.
You smile into his broad shoulder, murmuring, “I love you too, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”