She came with force enough to evict the male still pulsing inside her passage. Teeth threatening to click shut around the slab of meat plumbing her windpipe, the other was unable to stop his semen from slithering from her depths with an obsceneplop.Dripping cum into the swirling warm water. And with a final, satisfied sigh, a great weight collapsed over her back. A chin on her shoulder. Breath teasing her cheek, he fumbled between them. Sinking back into her tight passage until his knot was caught by her glands.
It wasn’t over.
With a grunt of his own, the male down her throat picked up the pace. Heedless of slapping palms or the desperate sounds she made, he fucked her throat with wild abandon, black eyes unable to tear away from her upturned face. One fist clenched in her hair, tugging at the roots for leverage. Her left ear caught in a tight fist.
And then, withdrawing his forefinger from her asshole, he wrapped that same hand around her airway. Using her throat to jerk himself off, drool was smeared around her lips before his fist returned to anchor in her hair.
He was close, she could feel it in the way he further expanded her jaws. In the erratic snapping pulse of his hips flexing and working toward a glorious finish.
Stars glittered at the edge of her vision. Closing in. Her head spinning and bouncing.
And yet, the treatment wasn’t new to her. Nor to any of the females imprisoned in the harem.
Hadim had favored rough oral—all the girls knew how to quicken his release. A secret passed from matron to Omega, for all knew of the whispers of what happened if their master was allowed to plunder without restraint.
Of the girls who went and never returned.
The male rutting down her throat wasnothingcompared to the brand of cruelty she’d been born to endure.
All he needed was a little… push…
Balanced on her left palm with the dead weight of a massive hybrid slung across her back, she slipped one dainty, wet hand between glistening, sable thighs. Giving exactly as good as she got, she reached further than the bulge of a heavy sack, past flexing cheeks, and found her mark.
The edges of a smile puckered her stretched lips.
A ring of muscle was tested. Breached. Stretched until her second knuckle was buried and wriggling.
Her reward?
A face full of pubes and twitching, kicking cock spurting salty cum into her gut.
She coughed and took him deeper by accident. Coughed again and jerked her finger out of his clenching ass, then slapped at his thigh. Silently demanding he ease off, let her breathe.
Obedient hybrid male that he was, he withdrew. Coating her tongue with rope after rope of sperm until it spilled over her glistening lips.
“Keever,” he said, pointing to the unconscious male draped over her back. “Micah,” he added, touching his own chest. The tip of his finger going pale as he pressed it into a thatch of curled chest hair, making the skin dimple.
A considerate gentleman.
Chapter 19
Micah gasped. Still twitching and dripping, the little breeder perched before him—half in, half out of the hot spring. Lips stained with seed, Keever’s weight slung across her back.
With a shaking breath, Micah maneuvered the pair so he might uncouple them. Pulling Keever’s long, slender knot from soiled cunt with apopthat preceded the hot gush of sperm.
The girl didn’t so much as flinch, her pupils completely blown. Inky black gaze traced his nudity, enthralled by a powerful natural season. Desperate to continue being bred until she was ripe and gravid.
His cock twitched with renewed vigor, for though he’d reached orgasm, Micah’s knot had gone unstimulated. The compulsion to breed left unfulfilled, no matter that it was false to begin with. An inherited whisper, a constant reminder that hybrids had no bloodline.
No legacy.
Hathorian eyes flicked to his prick, her black hair floating in a cloud where it wasn’t hanging in lanky strands across her face. “Please,” she whispered, lips quivering where they sat, just above the surface of the water.
She’d never be round with his kits, but by the Nine in their fiery kingdom, Micah couldpretend, couldn’t he? Just for a few moments, or until the Anhur males finally managed to fight their way free. Before he received the beating he’d earned for taking liberties with their property.
Micah tore his gaze from that inky stare, brushed away reaching fingers, and hauled Keever off her back. Depositing him on the hard red stone, so the fool wouldn’t drown in his post-orgasmic haze.
At his back, the Anhur had gone eerily silent where they hung in their net. Watching as he reached for the girl next. As he twisted a length of black silk about his fist and dragged her over the stone by the root of her hair.
