Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks

Chapter 365: Mira’s Jealous Husband

"This gun..." she breathed, turning it over, her fingers brushing mine again—deliberately this time. "This is Paul’s. The one he dropped when—"

I nodded once—leaning in closer, close enough that I could smell the faint, musky scent of her arousal still lingering from earlier, mixed with the salty tang of her dried tears.

"I found it.... when you were bandaging Paul.." I said.

Mira shook her head—quick, stubborn—but her eyes were dark, pupils dilated, breath coming faster.

"No... You keep it. I’ve already used your bullets, and—" She trailed off, biting her lip, gaze dropping to my mouth for a second before flicking back up.

I lifted my hand—slowly, gently—and pressed one finger to her lips, silencing her.

She froze—breath hitching audibly, lips soft and warm under my touch. A tiny shiver ran through her, her breasts rising with a deep inhale that pressed them harder against her shirt, nipples peaking visibly.

Jack’s eyes widened behind the tree—body going rigid, fists clenching at his sides.

I leaned in just a fraction—close enough that my breath brushed her cheek, voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur that carried just far enough for Jack to strain and hear fragments.

"Keep it," I said. "It’s for your safety. It’s my fault to you... for bullying you. For hurting you before. For everything I said, everything I did last night. For the way I made you... feel things you didn’t want to feel."

Mira’s breath hitched again—louder this time—her lips parting slightly under my finger. Her eyes fluttered—pupils dilating further, a fresh wave of heat climbing her throat, staining her cheeks a deep, embarrassed crimson.

"No..." she whispered against my fingertip, voice shaky, but her body leaned in unconsciously, breasts brushing my arm.

I reached up—slowly—brushing her dark hair back behind her ear, fingertips grazing the sensitive shell. Her skin was hot—flushed—and she shivered visibly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. My fingers trailed down—light, teasing—along the side of her neck, feeling her pulse hammer wildly under my touch.

"You’re so beautiful when you blush like this," I murmured, voice low and rough. "Makes me remember how you looked last night... pressed against me, your body so soft, so warm..."

Mira’s eyes widened—mortified, aroused. She glanced around nervously—but didn’t pull away.

"Dexter—stop—" she breathed, but her voice was husky, needy, her thighs pressing together as that slick heat built again between them.

Jack’s face twisted behind the tree—jealousy burning in his eyes, body tense like he might charge out any second.

I cupped her cheek gently—thumb brushing her lower lip.

"Just keep it," I continued, voice soft but firm. "When I tell you to... why are you talking so much nonsense? And keep in mind—don’t tell anyone about it. Otherwise, they might want to rob you... or worse. I don’t want anyone else touching what’s yours. What’s... mine to protect."

Mira swallowed hard—eyes locked on mine, breathing shallow. She nodded slowly—almost involuntarily.

"I... know..." she whispered. Then, with a tiny, shaky smile: "You brat... are you teaching me things now?"

I grinned—small, wicked—letting my gaze drop deliberately to her chest. Her breasts strained against her shirt—nipples stiff and prominent, begging for touch.

"You’re just grown big..." I murmured, eyes lingering on the full, heavy swells, watching them rise and fall with her quickening breaths. "But your brain isn’t big... otherwise you wouldn’t have been bullied by me all this time... wouldn’t have let me make you feel so... good."

Mira’s blush exploded anew—cheeks flaming, throat working. She reached up—patting my chest lightly, playfully—but her hand lingered there, fingers curling against my torn shirt, tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath.

"You brat..." she breathed, voice husky, embarrassed, aroused. Her fingers trailed lower—almost unconsciously—brushing the edge of my abs. "You always say things that make me... embarrassed."

She trailed off—biting her lip hard, thighs clenching again.

Then her expression softened—eyes shining with something deeper.

"Thank you, Dexter..." she whispered. "Really... thank you. For saving Bill. For... for coming back. For making me feel... safe."

I smiled—gently this time.

"It’s okay," I said. "Now go back... otherwise your husband might think you’re cheating on him." I nodded subtly toward the trees. "He might beat me up..."

Mira’s eyes widened—fresh mortification flooding her face. She spun around—searching the shadows—but Jack had already ducked back behind the tree, heart pounding, fists clenched, face twisted in silent rage.

She turned back to me—cheeks burning, lips parted.

"I—I wasn’t—we weren’t—" she stammered, but her body leaned in again, breasts brushing my arm, nipples dragging against me in a way that made her gasp softly.

I stepped closer—close enough that her breasts brushed my chest again, nipples dragging against me through our shirts. She gasped softly—eyes fluttering.

"Go back," I murmured, voice low and teasing. "Before he thinks something worse... like how much you want me to touch you right now."

Mira’s breath caught—sharp, needy. Her thighs rubbed together unconsciously, the heat between them growing slicker.

"Dexter—" she whispered, half protest, half plea.

I traced my thumb along her jawline—slow, intimate.

"Or maybe stay a little longer," I teased, voice dropping even lower. "Let me show you how sorry I really am... with my hands... my mouth..."

Her nipples hardened further—visibly tenting her shirt now—body trembling.

Jack—still hidden—watched it all, jealousy boiling.

Mira finally stepped back—shaky, aroused, embarrassed.

"I—I have to go," she breathed, but her eyes lingered on my mouth, my chest, before she turned and hurried back—hips swaying, ass jiggling slightly with each quick, flustered step.

Jack waited until she was gone—then stepped out from behind the tree.

His face was thunderous—jaw clenched, eyes burning with barely contained fury.

He stared at me.

I met his gaze—calm, steady, almost amused.

He didn’t say a word.

He just turned and followed Mira back to camp—shoulders rigid, fists tight, mind no doubt racing with images of my hands on his wife, my finger on her lips, my words making her blush and shiver.

I smiled—slow, private.

Discord planted.

Jealousy watered.

And Mira?

Mira was already mine—deeper than Jack could ever reach.

Tonight, when the others slept...

She’d come to me.

Begging.

Blushing.

Wet.

And I’d remind her—slowly, thoroughly—exactly who she belonged to now.

I adjusted my still-hard cock—grinning into the trees.

The day wasn’t over.

And the fun was just beginning.