Little Goat Mountain transient

The devil did not care if she believed she could withstand the assault against her torn body. Ithrik wanted to sink himself into her and spill her over with cum. His arms were strong and capable, but she had found a more reasonable place of comfort on the cave floor, and her weight offered her an advantage against his attempt at restraint. The piebald man bucked his hips threateningly but met only air and he grew frustrated with the lack of a presence. His hips longed to be pressed to hers and to feel the spill of her blood against his loins. All he wanted was to breach that gap and close the space between them, but she was struggling against him and she was succeeding with her efforts. This was something that rattled both his pride and his mood; Ithrik growled sharply.
 
“You quit that bitching and moaning, or I’ll come around and fuck every hole you’ve got in your face, you useless little twat,” he warned her, and it was a warning that would stand only once. If she did not allow him to mount her, Ithrik would not hesitate to move his position to one of more ease. He did not mind where he was to stick himself, only that it was in her body.