“Shh,” I murmur against her hair, stroking my hand down her spine. “You did so well. Such a good girl. My good girl.”
I feel her response to the praise before I hear it—feel her cunt clench weakly around my shaft, feel the shiver run down her spine, feel the involuntary whimper vibrate against my chest. Even now, even destroyed, her body responds to my approval like it’s been trained to.
Because it has. Because I trained it. And now she’s finally, completely mine.
“Rest now,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “The knot will release in twenty minutes or so. And then we’ll go again.”
“Again?” Her voice is wrecked. Destroyed. Barely a whisper against my skin.
“Your heat will last three days.” I tilt her chin up with my finger, forcing her to meet my eyes. She looks shattered—fucked out and tear-stained and utterly, completely claimed. I can feel my seed inside her through the bond now, warm and thick, and my spent cock twitches at the thought of adding more. “And I’m going to spend every moment of it inside you. Going to fuck you until you can’t remember wanting anything else. Until the only word you know is my name.”
I press my palm flat against her lower belly, feeling the slight swell where my cum fills her.
“Going to keep you so full of my seed you can taste it,” I murmur, rubbing slow circles against that swollen curve. “Going to breed this pretty cunt until it takes.”
She makes a sound that might be a sob or might be a moan. Through the bond, I feel both—the despair of being claimed so thoroughly, and the treacherous pleasure of her body being given exactly what it needs.
She doesn’t know the difference anymore.
I don’t think she ever will again.Chapter 13: Hannah
I am drowning in him.
His cock is still buried inside me, the knot a thick pressure that pulses against places I didn’t know existed. I’ve never felt so full—so stretched, so completelyused. His shaft is as thick as my forearm, and the ridges press into my swollen walls with every breath I take, every tiny shift of my body. When I clench around him—and I can’t seem to stop clenching, my pussy fluttering in helpless aftershocks—the ridges drag against nerves I didn’t know I had, sending sparks of painful pleasure shooting through my core.
He’s wrapped around me completely. Eight feet of bronze muscle cradling my body like I’m something fragile, something precious. My back is pressed against his massive chest, and I feel so small—my head barely reaches his collarbone, my entire frame swallowed by his. One of his arms could wrap around me twice. One of his hands could span my whole belly.
One of his handsisspanning my belly, pressing down on the slight swell where his seed fills me.
His seed is hot inside me. I feel each pulse as he continues to come—slow, lazy spurts that flood my womb with thick warmth. My belly feels distended with it, stretched taut, and when he presses his palm harder against the curve, a moan tears from my throat before I can stop it.
“Feel that?” His voice is a low rumble against my ear, vibrating through my body everywhere we touch. “Feel how full you are? How much of my seed is inside you?”
I do. God help me, I do. I feel it pooling deep in my core, feel the pressure of it with nowhere to go because his knot has me sealed tight. My pussy clenches around him involuntarily—around that impossible thickness, those ridges that catch and drag—and the movement sends sparks shooting up my spine.
“Shh,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’re doing so well. Taking my knot so perfectly.”
The praise hits me like a drug—warm and sweet, flooding through my chest and making my cunt spasm around his cock. I feel another gush of his seed pulse into me, feel my walls flutter and grip him like they’re trying to milk out more. My body is responding to his approval like it’s been programmed, clenching and softening andwantingin ways I can’t control.
I hate how good it feels.
I hate that my body is doing this, clenching and fluttering and desperate for more when my mind is still screaming that this is wrong. But the pleasure is relentless—waves of it rolling through me every time his knot shifts, every time another spurt of cum fills me, every time his fingers trace lazy patterns on my skin.
“How long?” My voice comes out wrecked. Destroyed. Barely recognizable as my own.
“The knot?” His hand slides down my belly to rest just above where we’re joined, and I shudder at the possessive weight of it. “Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. Stone Court males knot longer than most.”
Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes locked together, impaled on his cock, his seed flooding me until I overflow.
My pussy clenches at the thought. Traitor body. Traitor cunt that’s already anticipating more, already greedy for everything he’ll give me.
The bond is the strangest part.
I feel him now. Not just his body pressed against mine, not just his cock stretching me open—buthim. His satisfaction bleeds into my awareness, dark and possessive and utterly content. His hunger, banked but not gone, a patient fire waiting to flare again. His certainty—ancient, absolute, the knowledge that I’m exactly where I belong.
I hate that I can feel how much he wants me. Hate that my body softens under the weight of his desire, hate that some deep part of mepreensat being wanted this badly by something this powerful. Eight years I spent being needed but never wanted. Eight years of being useful but never desired.
And now this ancient creature is wrapped around me like I’m the most precious thing in his world, his satisfaction humming through the bond, his seed flooding my body like he’s trying to mark me from the inside out.
