Page 31 of The Hornet’s Hucow Pet

Finally, my body slows. After one last gush of venom, my stinger retracts, sliding all the way out of her.

My cock remains, still hard and tightly held in place by her inner muscles, and I stop thrusting.

My parameres knead gently at her vulva as I sink to her breasts. This time I savor them, drinking deep and slow, restoring the energy I just spent filling her.

I massage her chest, and she relaxes under my touch.

The massage trails lower as I caress her swollen belly. Under her round softness, I can feel how her taut womb bulges with each individual egg.

Nova moans with renewed pleasure at the touch. I alternate massaging her belly and her breasts until the latter are empty and her breathing is calm.

“I still want to cum,” she says sleepily.

“I know, little lamb. You won’t be able to until you’re done carrying my eggs.”

“Carrying your eggs…” Her eyes shine with pride. “I can make milk for you and… warm your cock and… carry your eggs…”

I caress her cheek. “Yes, little lamb. You’re very useful.”

She sighs with perfect contentment. After a slow blink, she says, “I didn’t know you had eggs…”

“All too clever when that head should be empty of thoughts.”

“Sorry…”

I kiss her forehead. “It’s alright. Most of the apparent males of my kind are actually intersex. Stingers are very useful, it turns out.”

Nova nuzzles into my touch. “Nothing hurts… It feels so nice…”

“I’m glad, little lamb.” I run my hand down her swollen stomach, earning sighs of pleasure. “You’re so beautiful, full of my eggs.”

She beams up at me. “How long? How long do I get to carry them?”

“They’re unfertilized, so two to three days.”

“Will it hurt?”

I brush a lock of sweat-soaked hair back from her face. “No. That I can promise you. It will be when you finally get to orgasm.”

“Ohhh…”

“For now, it’s time to clean you up so you can rest.”

CHAPTER 10

NOVA

Tingling warmth spreads from my belly with every heartbeat. Fucking hell, it feels amazing being full of his eggs.

Especially when he rubs my body down with hot washcloths, then smooths a fragrant, floral oil over my skin.

I still can’t move. Or, well… I could. If I really, really wanted to. But why bother? The moment I feel any discomfort from being in one position too long, Zyren’s hands are already on me, kneading the soreness away and repositioning me.

Once I’m clean and dry, he settles me in another nest of blankets near a broad wooden desk.

Sleep finds me more easily than it ever has. My body is totally at peace. When I stir hours later, I feel refreshed in a way I haven’t for a long, long time. My mind doesn’t need to work to tune out the pain, the ache.

I can just… be.