“I missed you, my love,” I said, kissing her calf.
“Untie me,” she said, tugging her arms.
“No. I like seeing you tied up,” I said, gripping her thigh before thrusting my hips forward.
I rocked in and out of her pussy. Inch by inch, I filled her up.
“My little breeding whore,” I said, placing my palm over her taut belly, slamming the last few remaining inches inside her until my balls rested against her slit.
“Argh,” she cried. Her leg trembled, but I smiled.
She had taken me in every lifetime and every form.
“Mmmm, you feel so good, Lucia. You love it, don’t you?” I panted, watching my cock work its way into her pussy over and over again.
“Y-yes,” she stammered, arching her back.
I snapped back my hips and started to pound into her. Thrusting my hips back and forth, slapping our flesh together. Her heavy tits bounced each time I smacked into her. I moved my hand down to her clit, circling it. Once, twice and before I managed a third, she screamed as her cunt clenched around my length.
My balls ached as they reared up, but I continued to fuck my bride until her pussy milked my cock, massaging it until my cum spilt inside her. My cock throbbed and continued to shoot thick ropes of seed inside her tight hole.
I took a deep breath and placed my hands over her belly. It was time for our child to be born. She was still panting, her eyes closed, as I pulled out of her. It was satisfying to see her abused, puffy cunt swimming with my cum.
She clutched her stomach and moaned in pain.
“The baby is coming,” I said when her wide eyes searched mine.
“Already?”
“It won’t take long,” I said as I coaxed the babe down.
Within a few minutes, Lucia was soaked in sweat, and I could see the baby’s head. I used my powers to adjust her body and pull the baby out without harming either of them.
Lucia screamed when our child crowned.
My heir.
The dark head of hair was followed by two perfect ears.
“You’re doing great. A little more, and the baby is out,” I said, but waved my hands until the child broke free.
I caught him.
A boy.
I winced when I saw Lucia’s exhaustion, but placed our son on her naked chest.
“Oh,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Hello.”
He let out a lusty cry, causing us to smile at him.
“He looks human,” she said, cradling him before she tried to move his lips onto her breast.
“He isn’t,” I said before leaving the room to gather the items for my son.
She fed him while I cleaned him up and cut the umbilical cord. She wrapped the blanket around him, but she never put him down. I sat watching, waiting and plotting. They both slept, and I moved my son to the basket. I stared at her for a few moments before I struck.
My claws pierced her throat. She realised it too late. The blood spread beneath her. Her hands clutched her throat as she struggled to breathe, smearing blood everywhere in her panic.
