It was the friction—the lack. It stole her breath, robbed her spirit of the fire she needed to fight.
Shredded her mind and left her with nothing but need.
A low rumble sounded behind her.
Smug. Goading.
Each cruel, serpentine stroke made her spasm. Every withdrawal a torment she chased, as if she wasn’t being dragged inside out. As if his cock alonewasn’tenough to lift her body off the stone.
It started with a spasm.
Uncontrollable. Something vile that rose in the chasm between empty and brutally stuffed.
And then, muffled against unyielding rock and putrid moss, she whispered, “Please,” in a voice she didn’t recognize. “Please, I… I can’t—I need?—”
Thrumming low in his chest, he rewarded her with another heavy grind that plundered Apollo’s sacred bounty. Claws dimpling her hip, his grip was enormous. Crushing. Possessive.
She bucked against that fist, using it. Hips working, she squirmed as slick gushed and squished from between her lips.
Breath hot against her nape, the grip in her hair grew tight. Cruel. Pinning her to the stone, he pumped her with careful, deliberate strokes. Holding her trembling body exactly where he wanted it.
“Gods,” she rasped between thrusts, eyes unseeing. Lips gaping. “Please! Stop… I don’t understand…”
There was pressure building where she was sodden. Something forbidden and… incredible.
Pleasure.
It pulsed hot and violent in her blood. In the hole he’d ruined and remade to suit himself.
Her world shattered as that impossible pleasure ripped through her. Spasming, she lurched where she was hooked. Flailing as much as she might, her shame gushed from her depths in torrents. Slick soaking his cock as she convulsed.
Openly weeping, pinned and broken beneath him, she gave everything that had been meant for Apollo.
Another rumble shook her marrow, then. A low, predatory sound of savage satisfaction—it could be mistaken for nothing else.
Crooning against her nape, she shuddered when he pressed a grin to her cheek.
And pumped back inside.
She knew, then.
He hadn’t even begun.
CHAPTER 9
Broken open on a cock not meant for mortals, Kore was impaled. Face down against damp rock in the back of a grim, dank little cave. Breathless. Her hips caught in a punishing grip. Tilted to suit the whims of a monster.
Stretched beyond what she’d ever thought possible around a spear of flesh that had ruined her.
Utterly.
Pinned with careful, vicious claws that prickled with every twitch from her abused, gaping pussy. The beast had gone still, seeming to enjoy each flutter of climax still rippling through her overwrought body. Kneading the meat of her hip as if in reward for milking his shaft, the point of deadly claws a subtle demand for compliance. A threat, as if she might succeed in wriggling free. As if the weight of a leviathan wasn’t slung across her back.
As if she wasn’t impaled so deep she could taste the brine.
And his cock.
It… squirmed within her, triggering another gush of fluid. Another flutter of muscles rippling along that foreign girth that had no business fitting inside her fragile human walls.
