“You feel that, Narai?” he rasps, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. “That’s me inside you. That’s me claiming you. Making you mine.”
His words are like gasoline on a fire, and the pleasure spikes, intense, overwhelming. I’m close, so close, my body tensing, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Look at me,” he demands, his hands cupping my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I want to see you when you come for me.”
My pussy is clasping him tightly, and he groans and hisses out, suddenly losing control as he bites my shoulder, his fangs driving deep. His hips set a brutal pounding rhythm.
The bite is a shock, a flash of pain that somehow melts into the most intense pleasure I have ever felt. My orgasm crashes over me, a tidal wave of sensation that leaves me breathless and trembling. I can feel him spilling inside me, hot, possessive, a final, irrevocable claim.
He licks at the wound, his tongue raspy against my skin, and I shudder, aftershocks of pleasure rippling through me. He’s still inside me, still hard, a heavy, satisfying weight that anchors me to the earth.
“Velkhar,” he whispers against my skin, the word a vow, a promise, a brand. “You are mine now, Keandra. Forever.”
He doesn’t move for a long moment, just breathes against my skin, the warm air sending shivers over my arms. His weight is a solid, living blanket, pinning me to the furs, and I can feel the frantic race of his heart against my breast, a wild beat that matches my own. He is deep inside me, a presence that is both invasive and curiously comforting. A permanent thing.
I am marked. The word echoes in my mind, not as a thought, but as a physical truth. A deep, thrumming certainty. The place on my shoulder where he bit me throbs, a dull, possessive ache. My blood is on his tongue. His scent is in my skin. His seed is warming me from the inside out.
There is no undoing this.
Slowly, he lifts his head, and the firelight catches the dark, wet stain on his lips. My blood. He doesn’t wipe it away. He looks at me, and the raw, terrifying hunger from before is there, but now it’s layered with something else. Something like awe. Like a man who has found a priceless artifact in the dirt and is afraid it will crumble in his hands.
“Are you broken, Veli?” he asks, his voice a low rasp. His thumb gently strokes the curve of my jaw.
I can only shake my head, my body too spent for words.
A slow, possessive smile spreads across his face. “Good.” He shifts slightly, and the movement sends a jolt of sensation through me. He is impossibly hard. “The night is young, Anari. And we have only just begun.”
He begins to move again, a slow, deliberate slide that steals the air from my lungs. There is no pain this time, only a deep, stretching fullness that makes me feel whole. He watches my face as he thrusts, his gaze intense, cataloging every gasp, every flutter of my eyelids.
“You take me so well,” he praises, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Your body was made for mine. Made to take my cock. Made to bear my young.”
His words are primal, raw, and instead of shocking me, they send a fresh wave of heat through my veins. This is not a human coupling. This is something older, deeper. A sacred, biological imperative. He is not just a man taking a woman. He is a Kai claiming his Sahri. A predator ensuring the continuation of his line.
And I am the vessel he has chosen.
The thought is terrifying. And it is the most intoxicating thing I have ever known.
He rolls us then, a feat of strength that leaves me breathless, and suddenly I am on top of him, straddling his hips, his handslocked on my waist to hold me in place. He is so deep like this, and the new angle makes me gasp.
“Move for me, Keandra,” he commands, his eyes burning in the firelight. “Show me you want this. Show me you want to be mine.”
I am hesitant, unsure, my body is humming with the aftershocks of my first climax. But his hands guide me, showing me the rhythm, the pressure, the motion that makes him groan. His claws are out again, just the tips, pricking my skin, a reminder of his power, of his Otherness. A thrilling, dangerous promise.
I look down at him, at the powerful alien king I am now bound to, and a fierce, unexpected pride surges through me. He chose me. The poor orphan girl from Mars. He saw something in me worth claiming. Worth keeping. Worth fighting for.
I begin to move in earnest, finding a rhythm that works for us, a dance as old as time. His grip on me tightens, and I can feel his control starting to fray. The powerful Kai is close to the edge, and I am the one pushing him there.
“That’s it, Narai,” he growls, his hips rising to meet mine, driving into me with renewed force. “Ride me. Take your pleasure. And then take my seed. All of it.”
His possessiveness is a potent aphrodisiac, a dark, sweet wine that goes straight to my head. I lean forward, bracing my hands on his chest, my breasts brushing against the hard planes of muscle. The new friction is exquisite, and I can feel another orgasm building, slow and hot and inevitable.
“Look at the bite,” he rasps, his gaze fixed on my shoulder. “See how it marks you? How everyone will know you belong to me? Are you Narai now?”
I glance down, and in the flickering firelight, I can see the twin puncture marks, already dark and swollen. A brand. A promise.A permanent part of me. And the sight of it, the undeniable proof of his claim, is what pushes me over the edge.
I cry out his name, my body convulsing around him, a series of powerful, rhythmic pulses that milk his cock, pulling him deeper, demanding everything he has to give.
“Keandra,” he roars, and the sound is a raw, primal thing that echoes through the chamber. He bucks beneath me, driving into me one last, brutal time, and I can feel the hot flood of his release, a potent, life-giving force that fills me, claims me, completes me in a way I never knew was possible.
