Roaring, Nyxarion bucked into her one last time. Unleashing a final stroke that carried enough force to bully his knot inside, he burrowed deeper. His swollen glans kissed her end and nosed at the mouth of her womb. Sought that tight ring of muscle and demanded entrance.
Relentless, he squirmed inside her. Sealed and clung.
Eyes rolling white, Kore's cry guttered out until they were little more than tiny, broken gasps of pleasure.
The stretch? It was obscene.
Her dainty body remade to accept the invasion. To make space for his knot where it ballooned inside her. Where it swelled in a burst of possessive heat and locked behind her pelvic bone.
Sealing her shut.
Full.
"You will"—he snarled, balls flexing as a truly titanic surge of sperm boiled up—"you willtake it.Every… every drop." Pumping her full of thick, gushing pulses, he sealed his claim. Left his mark in her womb, making her bulge around the volume.
Kore nodded, eyes wide. Desperate as her skin pulsed in a frantic, erratic pattern. Chaos cascading across every inch that synced in perfect harmony with each surge he crammed inside. Milking him. Drawing him out, his balls flexing and lifting, enticing him to pour everything he was into her trembling body.
Claimed.
Utterly,irrevocablyhis.
"Look at you," he breathed, petting her. Touching and teasing the defiant creature who'd ordered him to yield. Who'd sat atop his cock and claimed her right to exist above him. Gone now. "So broken for me. So perfect." The word spilled over his lips with a hushed reverence. Sincere as he watched her body work to empty his balls. "Let me feel it," he whispered, tracing her belly. Obsessed with the swell. "Stretch for me, pretty Siren. Let me fill you."
Sobbing, her head rolled forward. Eyes glassy and half-lidded.
"I know," he crooned, flexing inside her. Soothing and possessive. The action bordering on cruel. "But you're beautiful like this. Fat with seed. Full and aching." He groaned, head tipped back, gills aching as a ragged breath clattered through the damage. "Mine. All… all mine," he sang, and sent another gush to flood her.
Eyes molten, Nyxarion looked upon the girl impaled upon his cock and saw what she'd become.
Not the prey she'd been.
Sovereign.
His.
"You own me, Kore," he murmured, not sure if she could hear him. Saying it anyway, he brought her down and pressed his forehead to hers. Tasting her breath. "In the deepest dark. Every piece. Yours. My Queen."
Hefting his fluke, Nyx lifted off the trench floor. Hands drifting to her thighs, he held her close. Knot locked inside her, wounds throbbing with lingering pain, he drifted above Vorynthar. Fins spread wide to let the gentle current take them.
Showing off his Queen to any who might look.
The reef worshipped her.
A wave of color glowing bright in a magnetic ripple that followed where they passed. Polyps extending not to the king that had given it life, but to its fledgling queen.
And, belly pressed to his, Kore dozed. Cheek pressed to his shoulder. Submitted. Impaled. Drained of all resistance.
Exactly where she was always meant to be.
"Rest now," he murmured, knot flexing. Another pulse of seed burping from his slit. Pleased when she couldn't utter so much as a whisper of protest. She just took it.
And when the Abyssari began to emerge, returning to the dark, Nyxarion didn't hide what he had claimed.
He turned.
Spinning in a slow barrel roll that displayed her swollen body. Her strobing, chromatic scales. The knot that bound them together.
Letting them look.
