The jungle’s humid heat is clinging to my skin, making my nipples hard against the rough fabric of my wrap. I can still feel the ghost of a strong man’s hands on my hips from last night, the way his thick cock stretched my pussy open, filling me so completely. But it’s the quiet moments after, when the beast is sated, that the real thoughts come. Watching the moonlight on his sleeping back, tracing the scratches I left there… that’s a different kind of hunger. It’s not just about the raw fuck anymore. It’s about the claim. The mark. Knowing that even after he leaves my den, my scent is deep in his skin and the memory of my cunt gripping his cock will haunt his dreams. That’s a possession no one can wash off.