His tail tightens on my thigh, pulling me more open. His lower hands maintain their grip on my wrists while his upper hands move to my hips, controlling the angle. Controlling everything.
“Female takes cock well,” he growls. “Body made for breeding now.”
He sets a rhythm. Brutal. Primitive. Each thrust drives me harder against the tree, bark scraping my nipples raw. The pain mixes with the overwhelming fullness, with the drag of his ridges against tissues that have been empty too long. My pussy floods around him, arousal running down my thighs, easing his motion.
His pleasure cock tightens around my waist, the tip finding my clit. It vibrates against the swollen bundle of nerves, adding another layer of sensation that makes coherent thought impossible. I can only take what he gives, pinned between tree and alien predator who's claiming what the hunt promised him.
“Six days watching female suffer,” he says, his rhythm never faltering. “Six days of her scent driving me to violence. Other males gathering, challenging, bleeding. All for this.”
He hilts completely. All nine ridges inside me, stretching me impossibly full. The base of his cock is even thicker, with the beginning swell of what will become his knot. But not yet. He pulls back, denying that final connection.
“Please—” The word escapes before I can stop it.
“Please what?” He slams forward again, making me see colors that don't exist. “Please stop? Please continue? Female must choose.”
“Don't stop.” My pride is gone, dissolved in the acid of need. “Please don't stop.”
“Won't stop.” Another thrust, harder. “But won't finish either. Not yet.”
His pleasure cock works my clit in circles while his breeding cock destroys me from inside. The dual sensation breaks something in my mind. The orgasm that's been building for six days crashes through me with violence that makes me scream. My pussy clamps down on him, muscles that have been clenching on nothing finally having something to grip.
He doesn't slow. Doesn't pause. Just continues his brutal rhythm while I convulse around him, while my body tries to milk him for the seed it desperately needs. The orgasm doesn't end, just rolls into another, then another. Six days of denial released all at once.
“Female comes prettily,” he observes, still driving into me. “But one orgasm insufficient. Body needs more. Needs flood of seed to quiet the burning.”
He's right. Even as I shake through climax after climax, the deep need remains. The empty ache that's not about pleasure but about biological imperative. About breeding. The tonic has rewired me to need not just sex but completion. Insemination. The thing he's denying me.
“Give it to me,” I gasp between waves of pleasure that border on pain. “Please, I need?—”
“I know what female needs.” He pulls out completely.
The emptiness is agony. My pussy clenches on nothing, walls trying to grip air. I sob, actually sob, at the loss. He spins me around, lifts me with all four arms. My back scrapes against bark as he positions me higher, legs spread around his hips.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I force my eyes open, meet those amber predator eyes. His face is alien, beautiful, terrible. The rigid plates of his features don't allow for human expression but I read satisfaction there anyway. Victory.
“Female remembers this moment,” he says. “Remembers who claimed her first. Who her body recognized as match.”
He enters me again in one thrust. This angle is different, deeper. The ridges drag against new spots, triggering fresh waves of sensation. His tail wraps around both my thighs now, keeping me spread impossibly wide while he fucks up into me.
His pleasure cock finds my ass, pressing against the tight entrance. Not penetrating, just applying pressure that makes me clench harder around his breeding cock. Everything is sensation. Everything is overwhelming. The fungi has made my entire body one raw nerve, and he's playing it like an instrument.
“When other males smell you now, they smell me,” he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Smell that you've been claimed. Marked. Bred.”
But still he holds back. I can feel it in how his cock swells but doesn't knot, in how his body trembles with restraint. He's close, fighting his own need, maintaining control when I have none left.
“Why?” I gasp. “Why won't you?—”
“Because female must understand.” He slows, each thrust deliberate now. “This isn't taking. This is giving. Giving what body needs while showing who controls that need.”
His upper right hand moves to my throat, not squeezing, just holding. Possessive. His lower hands grip my ass, controlling the depth of each thrust. His tail keeps me open while his pleasure cock torments my other entrance.
“Could knot you now,” he continues, his cock swelling more with each word. “Lock inside. Fill with seed until belly swells. Make it impossible to leave. But won't. Not yet.”
“Please—” Pride is memory. Only need exists.
“Female will have to seek me out.” He thrusts harder, faster, bringing me to the edge again. “Will have to choose. Come to my territory. Ask properly.”
