Steady, fluid, hard, finger stabs into her body.
The round balls of orange citrus fruits moving, teasing, making her womb flutter and tremble. Her hands braced at his knees, she followed the rhythm of his thrusts, his in and out was her back and forth. Her head spun with the awful, dirty, glorious pleasure of what he was doing.
She moved, groaning low and brutish each time that spot was touched. Taunted by the knowledge of the ecstasy he revealed to her, in the possibility of more to come, she chased her own climax. At the edge of her need, her body sang with joy.
He pulled his fingers out, stopping her from tipping over that edge. Replacing them with his cock, she thought he would shove himself inside along with those maddening ball-shaped fruits. He did not. Aligning his cock with her slit, positioning himself so that the conical head rubbed against the hard bud of her clit, he stayed outside her body, making her ride him. Took his own pleasure.
His thick cock stroked back and forth, the tip at her woman's nub. Helpless. Owned by his will. She worked herself over his length. His crude actions put her above all else, at his center, and that addictive feeling of being his sent her reeling closer to climax. She moaned with each piston move of his cock, each stroke sinking her farther into a circle of trust and connection.
It felt so good. Her thighs quivered and arms shook. Each time she thought she could scream in completion, he changed the trajectory of his cock or pressed on the dark rose of her back opening, breaking her rhythm, not letting her have what she wanted.
"Please. What are you doing? I can't take this."
Not missing a beat, he repositioned her in a dizzying rush of motion, turning her to face him with her legs splayed wide around his waist. Still dizzy from the movement, he took over her gaze, his beautiful white eyes capturing hers.
His answer was to stop completely?
Before she asked, begged, he hushed her with a finger tap to her lips. Waited until she felt the weight of unsaid things fill up the space between their bodies in the same way he'd filled up the empty crevice inside of her. Watching her closely, he poured silent declarations into the area between their heartbeats.
Their breath mingled—her pants and his measured breathing.
Then, taking up her hands, Doku-ni brought them to his neck. Steeped in desire, the tune of this moment changed, lowered. Lust converted to emotion as she touched the cut seam of the scar where his shoulders started. The deep groove hid a horrendous secret: a tight, metallic choker. Ejecting the short sharp claws at his fingertips, he dug into the skin right next to the metal.
Annabell opened her mouth to protest.
His free hand wrapped around her throat, stopping her.
As he dug a claw into his skin, he held her eyes, held her soul. Deliberately inflicting a crude surgery on himself, he gouged into his neck, digging until he managed to get his claw under a gold wire. Sparks of fire danced down the surface, one after another. With a twist and a pull, he snapped the thing, unwinding it from his throat, leaving the skin gaping. Did she see muscle?
Broken, the gold wire turned black. It steamed. He tossed it aside. She didn't understand what was right before her eyes. What he did. What it meant. A shake of his head silenced her questions. Instead, he gathered up her hands and placed them on the metal rectangle at the base of his throat. He guided her to pinch the metal between her fingers as he did the same.
He penetrated her being with his gaze, conveying a message she couldn't interpret, but felt in the region of her heart. This moment grew between them, full of meaning. She would always remember this.
Directing her, together they yanked on the metal, pulling it out of his neck. Annabell cried out, expecting blood to gush from his throat, the vital area severed. The metal brought flesh with it, leaving behind a gaping slit.
"What did you do?" She lurched forward too late, trying to stop the madness. But he kept her hands from going to his throat, from saving him. Annabell screamed her distress.
He hissed out of breath, a shhh, meant to calm.
She sobbed, "Why, why did you do that?"
His lips moved. "Anna."
His direct, raw gaze froze her. "Anna."
Annabell gasped.
Ripped skin healed, filled in, creating a scar like a straight cut through leather. He didn't bleed. Not a drop. And his flesh repaired itself right before her eyes, knitting itself smooth. Some of it flaked between them like dust. Metal out of him, he folded her hands around it, pressing it against her heart.
"Anna is all Doku-nini-orki-ror-esseye wants. Anna is Doku-ni redress."
His voice, his beloved voice. Raspy and raw, he breathed it over her. His chest heaved with emotion. "Anna is Doku-ni reward. Doku-ni everything. Anna Doku-ni so-humonn-ror'si-ess. Husband. Wife."
Tears ran in streaks down her face. He cupped her neck in both hands, bringing her closer. "Anna honors Doku-ni."
Metal piece dropped side, she touched his lips where that voice, and all her memories came from, saying, "Anna is Doku-ni redress. Doku-ni isni-orki-ror-esshusband, mate, friend. My One. My Orki."
He growled at her declaration, his voice yanking the strings of all her nerves, straight to her center. What he could do to her with just his sounds, make her helpless, make her come. The growl vibrated through the sensitive peak of her clit, up the sleeve of her vagina, and around the ring of her cervix. She contracted again and again around the hard, round fruits lodged inside. The things rolled together with her contractions. Too much, she twitched in his hold, control over her muscles and limbs lost in the fire of peak after peak.
