Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 386: Nathalie’s Possessive Dawn

In the kitchen, Jennifer wore an apron over her straightforward sundress, mixing a pot of rich mushroom risotto.

She glanced up with a kind smile, her gaze shifting between us—noting Nathalie's shaky steps, the light red traces on my neck, and how our hands kept finding each other.

"Dinner's nearly done," she announced brightly. "I prepared your go-to: risotto drizzled with truffle oil, seared prawns, and that arugula salad you enjoy.

"Emily's staying over with Veronica and Mary this evening. They'll return tomorrow afternoon."

Nathalie offered a weary grin. "Thanks, Jen. It smells amazing."

At the dining table, candles flickered, gentle tunes played, and dishes sent up warm steam. Nathalie savored her food gradually, resting her head on my shoulder now and then, sometimes slipping a prawn into my mouth with her fingertips.

Her envy lingered on; in fact, the calm home atmosphere intensified it. Whenever her eyes met mine, a claiming spark shone through.

With silent skill, Jennifer removed the dishes, served us glasses of cool Sancerre, and flashed a subtle, aware smile. "I'll head to my room if you want anything. Night."

I faced Nathalie. She tilted her glass and gulped the wine in a single, fatigued pull, her lids drooping already. Weariness had overtaken her at last.

Silently, I slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, hoisting her softly. She nestled into my chest like it was her natural spot.

Down the hall to the bedroom I bore her. We dropped onto the bed as one—she in her dress still, me partly clothed—and right away, she encircled me with both arms, holding firm. Her breath heated my neck's side as she whispered, almost inaudibly,

"Dexter... I love you..."

I looked down. Her eyes shut, lashes dark on fair skin, her features gentle and utterly at ease. Sleep had claimed her deeply, the confession emerging like a hidden truth shared only with her slumber.

I swept a lock of hair from her face and shut my eyes, her rhythmic pulse against me drawing me into rest alongside her.

Sleep took us both. I'm unsure of the duration, but movement stirred me awake, and I saw it was Nathalie up first, leaning on one elbow, gazing at my face with that tender, owning gaze she revealed only when believing me asleep.

Her raven hair cascaded over a shoulder, bare breasts heaving gently, nipples hardened by the chill—or perhaps by the naughty ideas swirling in her thoughts.

As my eyes fluttered open and met hers, a fierce flush spread across her face and torso. She attempted to avert her look, but too slowly.

I refused her any escape.

My palm smacked her flawless, curved rear—firm and intentional, the crisp crack echoing in the still room like a thunderclap. Her form jolted ahead, a surprised cry bursting from her mouth.

"Aaah!"

She snapped her head around to scowl at me, eyes blazing with feigned outrage as one hand darted to soothe the burning red imprint forming on her light skin.

"You—!"

I cut her off.

I rose swiftly, gripped her by the neck's base, and pressed my lips to hers in a fierce, consuming kiss. No tenderness. No gentle dawn affection.

Only fierce desire—tongue thrusting beyond her lips, seizing every part of her mouth as if asserting her true owner once more.

She groaned right away, the vibration humming against my tongue, her frame softening into mine even while her hand massaged the aching area on her backside.

I savored the subtle sweetness of the previous night's Sancerre on her, blended with the briny heat of her rekindling excitement pooling between her legs.

My other hand trailed lower, grasped the warm, newly smacked cheek, squeezed firmly to elicit a whine into the kiss, then landed another crisp smack—this one below, at the curve where thigh joined ass.

She pulled away from the kiss with a sharp intake, breathing heavily against my mouth, her pupils dilated hugely.

"Dexter... fuck..."

"Morning, my sweet wife," I whispered, tone deep and gravelly, thumb stroking the plump lower lip she nibbled. "Rest okay after seeing every temptress in that clinic attempt to take what's yours?"

Her gaze shadowed—envy igniting anew amid the mild morning glow.

"They took nothing," she snapped, though her tone wavered with longing. "You're mine. Forever mine."

I laughed low and ominous, rolled her onto her back with fluid ease, and secured her wrists overhead in one grip. My knee parted her thighs; she opened wide without delay, hips rising toward me by reflex.

"Prove it," I rumbled near her throat, teeth scraping the throbbing vein. "Demonstrate how much slicker that envious pussy becomes when I reinforce it."

I freed her wrists just to slip both hands beneath her rear, raising her hips from the bed.

A solid slap hit each cheek—crack, crack—prompting her sharp cry and arch, her core tightening obviously, a new drop of wetness gleaming at her opening.

"Dexter—!"

Yet another slap—stronger—spanning both cheeks together. The noise was lewd in the hushed space, her flesh glowing a deeper crimson.

"Say it," I commanded, dipping my mouth near her soaked folds. "Declare whose cock owns this pussy."

"Yours—fuck—yours—only yours—" Her words fractured into a keen as I trailed my tongue's broad side from her rear entrance to her clit in a drawn-out, languid stroke—sampling the mild salt of the prior night's seed still within her, fused with new desire. She jerked, legs squeezing my head.

I drew her clit firmly between my lips, sucked intensely, lashed the tip with quick tongue flicks—while fingers pressed into her tender ass flesh, parting her further.

"Again," I snarled into her wetness. "Louder."

"YOUR COCK—ONLY YOURS—FUCK—DEXTER—PLEASE—"

I granted her reward with two fingers driving deep into her drenched core, hooking against that yielding ridge that tore a scream from her.

My thumb circled her clit relentlessly as my free hand continued spanking—measured and purposeful, each smack synced to my fingers' thrusting pace inside.

Her form arched from the sheets, heels pressing into the bed, fingers raking the fabric.

"Gonna—gonna cum—already—fuck—your fingers—your mouth—spanking me—jealous—still so jealous—ahh—Dexter—don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—MAKE ME CUM ON YOUR TONGUE—CLAIM ME—FUCK—YES—YES—YESSSSS!"

She exploded—intensely—her pussy flooding around my fingers in warm, pulsing waves, her release spraying my chin and torso as her entire frame seized.

I persisted—licked steadily through the peak, spanked softly to extend each quiver, each shattered gasp, until she lay trembling and mewling under me.

Once she slumped at last, breathless, eyes unfocused, I shifted up her length, my erection pulsing achingly against her leg.

She grasped for me at once, legs encircling my hips, drawing me close.

"Inside—now—please—need to feel you—need to feel you breed me again—remind me I’m the only one—fill me—fuck me raw—make me forget their names—make it hurt so good I can’t think—"

I offered no delay.