“Feels like they're fighting in there,” I tell him, gasping as a particularly strong movement makes itself known. “Constantly moving.”
“Strong offspring. Fighters like their mother.”
I lean forward to kiss him, the angle making his ridges drag perfectly against my g-spot. The orgasm builds slow, and I ride it out while staring into his amber eyes. Twenty-three days of this and I still want him desperately. Still need him filling me daily.
The knot catches on my entrance and I bear down, forcing it inside. The lock is immediate, his seed flooding me again. Unnecessary for breeding but necessary for my sanity. My bodyneeds this, needs him, needs the confirmation of being claimed daily.
“Mine,” he growls, hands tightening on my hips.
“Yours,” I agree, then add what I always add: “And you're mine.”
“Always.”
We stay locked for fifteen minutes this time, me slowly riding him while his knot prevents any real movement. Just small circles, tiny shifts that make us both groan. When it finally releases, I'm reluctant to let him go.
“Breakfast,” he insists, lifting me off him. “Female needs food. Offspring need nutrients.”
He's become obsessive about feeding me. Brings me the best cuts of meat, the ripest fruits, water from the clearest streams. I've gained weight beyond the pregnancy, my body finally recovering from seven days of tonic-induced starvation followed by seven days of constant breeding.
We eat in comfortable silence, naked and covered in each other's fluids. The den has been rebuilt since the shadow cat attack, stronger than before. The walls reinforced, the entrance narrower. A proper nest for offspring.
“Storm coming,” he observes, nostrils flaring.
I smell it too. My senses have sharpened during pregnancy, picking up changes in air pressure, in pheromones, in the chemical composition of the world around me. Another gift from carrying his young.
“Good,” I say. “Like fucking during storms.”
His cocks both pulse at that, already starting to emerge again. My pregnancy has made him even more attracted to me, more possessive, more eager to breed even though the breeding is complete.
“Female insatiable,” he comments.
“Female available,” I correct. “Mount me.”
He doesn't need more invitation. Pushes me onto my hands and knees right there by the remains of breakfast. His breeding cock finds my entrance without guidance, pushing inside with one smooth thrust. All nine ridges at once, making me cry out.
This position is harder with my belly so swollen, but I love it anyway. Love the weight of him over me, the depth he achieves, the primal nature of being mounted. His tail wraps around my thigh while his secondary cock finds my ass, pushing inside without ceremony.
“Both holes,” I gasp. “Fuck, yes. Both.”
He sets a brutal pace, the storm's arrival seeming to trigger something primitive in him. Or maybe it's the approaching noon, the knowledge that the portal will open soon and I still won't leave. That I'll choose him again simply by not moving from this position.
Thunder rolls overhead as his knot swells. I push back against it, desperate to be locked, to be filled, to be claimed again as I am every day. It pops inside just as the first rain hits the den's roof, and his seed floods me as lightning illuminates everything.
“Breeding in storm,” he says against my neck. “Good fortune for offspring.”
“Everything's good fortune according to you,” I laugh, then gasp as he pulses inside me again.
We fuck through the storm's arrival, still knotted when noon approaches. I know because I can feel it, some change in the air that signals the portal's formation. The same sensation from thirty days ago but interpreted differently by my transformed body. Then it meant potential escape. Now it's just background noise.
“Portal's opening,” I mention casually, clenching around his knot.
“Female going to look?”
“Female is busy being bred. Again.” I push back against him. “Fill me fuller. Want my belly bigger.”
He laughs, that grinding sound I've grown to love. His cock pulses, giving me what I asked for even though we both know it's unnecessary. I'm already carrying as many offspring as my body can handle. But the breeding continues because we both need it, both want it, both choose it daily.
The portal forms somewhere out in the jungle, tears reality for thirty minutes, then closes. I don't see it. Don't care. I'm exactly where I want to be - knotted on alien cock while storm rages outside and life grows inside.
