And I am. So, so empty. Until him, I’ve never felt so empty in my life.
He’s frozen under me, his body rigid, his hands barely squeezing my hips. Sitting up, I clutch his cock with both my hands and, pressing my heels to the floor, lift away slightly, mimicking the in-and-out of sex. He releases seed and I feel it spread, the hot, thick liquid lubricating everything, making it easier. Shifting my hips, I ease off him completely, only to grind my clit along his knot for a moment before guiding him back to my opening.
His fingers dig into my skin.
Cupping his knot with both hands, I start to slowly slide down again until his head is fully inside of me, then rock hard from front to back, letting my body get used to the stretch. Once I know I can handle it, I grit my teeth and chew on my lip in concentration, working even lower, little by little.
As if to encourage me now, his hands sweep up my chest to rub my breasts and nipples before returning to squeeze my hips. Gasping from the pressure, both inside and out, I constrict around him. Almost…
Darolus grunts as, straining my body to its limits, I press all the way down to his knot. “Yes,” I moan, finally feeling what I need to feel more than anything: him, filling me up.
Time comes to a standstill as each intense second bleeds into the next, prolonging them infinitely. I settle on his knot, my pussy straining as it takes its time to adapt to the even greater width barely breaching it.
“See,” I say, my voice small and breathless, gloating in my accomplishment.
“I sssseee,” he groans, his blue knuckles gone white and his eyes shut tightly. Excited by his overwhelmed reaction, I rise off him, only to slide back down. But I barely reach his knot again before his muscles lock, his tail snaps into a coil, and his seed spreads thickly inside of me.
He hisses fervently, his cock jerking wildly. I try to pull off of him but he tugs me back down, keeping me pinned for his orgasm. Pulsing inside me, he pumps out spurt after spurt, and his mouthwatering smell envelopes me, obliterating all rational thought.
Whimpering, I roll my hips, anchoring my body with one hand on his chest while the other goes to my clit. My movements become twitchy and quick as I circle and stroke it. Easier now, I ride up and down him, working into a steady but fast tempo, fighting for a climax just out of reach.
His grunts and hisses fill my ears. His claws scrape over my sides and I gasp. Slipping on his seed, I sit heavy on his knot and he groans hoarsely, snapping his tail on the floor and making dust and dirt fly into the air. With each powerful spasm, I feel his seed filling me further, deeper, his knot growing less thick, until I can push my pussy down over it, taking it completely.
With his body shuddering frenetically beneath mine, I clench around his bulge with satisfaction, ignoring the taut ache and stinging pain of the stretch. A raw sound pours from my throat, turning into a drawn-out moan. The incredible sensations amplify as I rub my fingers over my clit quicker than ever. Thrusting my hips forward, I rock to my fingers’ pace, feeling his knot grind against my g-spot deliciously.
On the edge of orgasm, I squeeze as hard as I canaround him, and his whole body erupts with a loud hiss. The sound seems to come from everywhere, vibrating me from the inside out. Plunging over the precipice, pleasure hits me; I writhe helplessly, quaking upward, off his knot.
Darolus yanks me back down onto it as a scream tears out of me. Trembling all over, my orgasm rips through me, body and soul, deepening and extending the longer his knot’s ridges press against me. Another rush of his seed floods deep inside, increasing the pressure beyond what I can bear. I push off of him once again, and this time he lets me go; I roll to the side and onto the hides beneath us.
By the time I open my eyes, he’s above and over me, blocking everything else from view.
Baring his fangs, he hisses, “Mine.”
SIXTEEN
RETREAT, RETURN, RETRACT
Darolus
I losemy senses in Sabrina in the following days, succumbing to her charm and her female temptation before I even know I need to have my defenses up.
My female. My pet. My feisty Sabrina.
If it were not for her need to eat and drink each day, I would never leave her side. But returning to my nest after each hunting trip has never been more rewarding. I always find her waiting, ready for me every time.
Is this what the other males had all those years ago? This companionship?
She said she cannot get pregnant. That her kind can decide. If that is the case, she is nothing like a female naga. As difficult as it is to comprehend, I choose to believe her. I have no reason not to. She has not lied to me yet, nor does she wish to die. And she knows I could not bear to hurt her.
I want to keep her. And I think she may want to be kept.
Watching her brush her hair and put her red coloring on her lips, I prepare to hunt for us once more. That, and to scavenge more wood for kindling for her fires. They have grown larger and longer over the evenings we have spent together, warming and filling my nest with light and comfort deep into the night. They make her happy, and her happiness is something I am eager to provide.
I cannot breed her… I tell myself this each time she climbs on top of me and I let her have her way, thrilled just to have her attention, to enjoy the pleasure she insists on giving me. I cannot breed her. I have not hurt her. I will not hurt her.
But as the days go by, it is growing harder to hold back my instinctive desires.
I want to lick her pussy—which is what she calls the place my prick fights its way into each day—and feast on her taste. I want to coil her in my tail, embrace her to my body as I climb atop ofher. Pinning her, covering her, placing her in my nest and keeping her there—is all I want to do, and is all I can think about.
