Her back arched, a silent cry bubbling up from cold lips. Moving around a plea, mute as her gills worked to pull enough oxygen from the current to feed her once-human brain.
Thighs pressing together, her eyes flickered before they opened. Pupils luminous in the dark, irises flecked through with gold.
She was empty.
Hollow.
Agony.
Reaching with webbed fingers, Kore gasped and felt a breath of cold water flood her lungs before it leaked through her gills. Venting some of the heat bubbling in her center.
It wasn’t enough.
Fingers curling around the bars of her prison, Kore tried to call out. To summon the male who’d ruined her.
But she had no voice.
And there was no one left to listen.
Still…
A shadow passed above.
Massive. A colossus drifting through the dark.
Her captor.
Her lifeline.
Nyxarion.
She couldn’t help the way she recoiled. Cringing back from the massive male who emerged through the gloom, even as her cunt clenched around nothing. Womb a hollow ache that begged for relief with a lewd throb and another viscous gush of slick.
Fingers twisting, Kore tried to signal submission, making Poesideon’s symbol in desperate, mute twitches.
Head tilting, he grinned. Fins flaring to catch the current as he descended.
Tail flicking once, lazy and possessive as he slithered closer but stayed beyond reach.
And then, with a predatory grin, he said, “You’re awake,” in a voice she could feel reverberate in her chest.
Because her lungs were filled with the sea.
Tilting his head back, he took a breath and pulled the black waters through his lips. Tasting…her. The scent of her slick. Her arousal.
Claws clicking along the coral bars, he hummed a musical threat as those deadly points prickled along her thigh.
Kore shuddered, trying to reach him through the bars. Nipples beaded tight, pussy flushed and plumped with neglect.
Nyxarion thrummed in his chest. “Does my bride ache for my seed?” he crooned, and let his cock burst from his slit. Catching that monster about the middle, he pumped it once in his massive fist. Letting the pearls bloom along that twisting, ravenous girth.
A net of bubbles escaped her when she tried to beg, to plead, or pray.
“Or is it my knot she misses?” He laughed, deep and cruel. “I can taste your need, little Siren. Your scent”—he stroked his cock from base to tip and squeezed the head until a drop of pearlescent sperm burst from his tip—“it perfumes the Deep. Already, the flavor of your desire for your king spills from this sea to the next. A beacon that hasn’t been sounded in any waters in far longer than you can imagine.”
Heat kissed her cheeks, then. Some bastard version of shame, but it didn’t stop her from following the path his fist made as it stroked his girth in a slow, deliberate pass.
“My court has been summoned,” he said. “Soon, a legion of loyal Abyssari will fill this trench. They will come to bear witness to the incredible feat I have accomplished in conquering the Black Sea.” He drifted closer, settling near enough that he could wrap his tail around the entire base of her cage. “And then,” he hummed, fanning her with his scent, “of course, they will come to witness…you. My greatest triumph.”
