"Yes," she pants. "It's so hot, so dirty…"
I don't know when the hell I developed a breeding kink, but holy shit, it's going strong now—the thought of having her carry my child is now a constant fucking temptation. And right now, seeing her pussy filled to the brim with my cum, watching it drip out of her like liquid fucking gold...I'm ready for round two—to fill her up even more.
I dive in, licking and sucking at her swollen lips, tasting the mingled essence of us. Her juices are so fucking sweet, and the taste of my cum on her pussy sends a jolt straight to my cock. I groan as I feast on her, claiming her like the fucking animal I am.
Danica
52
Not wanting to head back to Gideon and the crew, Rhyland and I decide to lie here and breathe while unpacking everything.
Ever the curious cat, Rhyland starts grilling me about the vision I saw in the reflection pools. I hesitate, not wanting to burst his bubble of post-coital bliss with talk of doom and gloom.
"Well, it was a bit like a choose-your-own-adventure novel," I quip, trying to keep things light. "In one version, all the realms were happy and thriving. Everything was sunshine and rainbows and singing woodland creatures."
I conveniently leave out the part about the other, darker path I saw. The one where everything goes to hell in a handbasket and Rhyland gets sucked into the darkness. That little nugget of nightmare fuel is staying locked up tight in the vault of my brain. Thank you very much.
Rhyland raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing there's more to the story. "And the other version?" he prompts.
I shrug, trying to play it off like it's no big deal. "Who knows? The future is fickle. For all we know, those Reflection Pools could've just been showing me some trippy alternate realities. Like, maybe in one of them, we're all just characters in a romance novel written by some bored housewife up in Washington State."
Rhyland snorts, shaking his head in amusement. "Cute, baby. Real cute."
I grin, batting my eyelashes at him in mock innocence. "Yeah, but you love it, right?"
Rhyland growls, his arms tightening around me as he buries his face in the crook of my neck, his beard tickling my skin, making me giddy inside. "More than anything in this world or any other," he murmurs. "I know there's something else you saw,something you're not telling me. And that's okay—for now. But don't think for a second that I won't find a way to coax it out of you, one way or another."
I melt into his embrace, my heart doing a little tap dance in my chest as I breathe in his scent, a heady mix of sandalwood, the Nordic seas, and pure, alpha male. Damn him for knowing me so well, for being able to read me like a book even when I'm trying my best to keep the pages closed.
But the truth is, I'm not ready to dive into the darker aspects of my vision or reflection just yet. Not when we're still basking in the glow of our victory, of the love and connection we share. And then there's Rhyland's vision to consider—is it just some weird, wishful thinking brought on by the magic of the Reflection Pool?
Or could it be a glimpse of a future that's possible despite everything we thought we knew about vampire biology?
Seeing Rhyland break down like that, so raw and vulnerable over his vision—it was like a sucker punch straight to the heart. I had no fucking clue that Mr. Broody Viking had a secret desire to join the diaper-changing club? It's not like we can populate a nursery with little fang-babies, right? Vampires and procreation go together, as well as peanut butter and motor oil.
But if we could? If, by some miracle of supernatural science or cosmic joke, we could actually make a mini-me-and-him?
Sign me the fuck up for that roller coaster of sleepless nights and spit-up stains. To see Rhyland grinning like an idiot over a squalling, pooping bundle of joy? Our squalling, pooping bundle of joy?
To give him the family he never thought he could have?
I'd move heaven and earth, even if it meant my uterus staging a revolt in the process.
Talk about a plot twist. Here I am, trying to save the world, and suddenly, I'm daydreaming about babies and tiny vampire onesies.
What the actual fuck has my life become?
I need to change the subject ASAP before I start yelling out baby names or asking if vampires can get sperm donors. Because let's face it, "Rhylica" is already stuck in my head like the world's most adorable earworm, and if I don't redirect this conversation, I will turn into a blubbering mess. And nobody needs to see that, least of all my Daddy Vike.
"You're not the only one with secrets, you know," I murmur, my lips curving into a playful smirk as I tilt my head back to look up at him. "Your lightning trick and background ring any bells?" Rhyland sighs in defeat, "But I suppose I can let you try to pry them out of me if you think you're up for the challenge."
Rhyland grins. "Oh, I'm up for it, baby," he rumbles, his hand sliding down to give my ass a possessive squeeze. "And I feel you'll enjoy every second of my interrogation techniques."
I laugh, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. "Uh-huh," I tease as I gaze up at Rhyland. "So, your lightning trick," I say, my fingers dancing along his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos. "Care to explain how that's even possible, oh mighty God of Thunder?"
Rhyland's eyes darken, a storm brewing in their depths as he pulls back, his brow furrowed. "Honestly, baby, I have no fucking clue," he admits. "I never knew my father."
I stiffen against him, my heart clenching at the pain that flashes across his face. Well, shit. Looks like we've got more in common than just our need for one another. "Hey," I murmur, my hand cupping his cheek, my thumb brushing over his thick beard that I can never get enough of. "You're not alone in that boat, babe. My dad was a mystery, too, remember?"
