Chapter 7 Knight
SEVEN
KNIGHT
My dick hardens again as I watch my cum slowly drip out of her pink, swollen vagina. I like being inside of her. I like watching and feeling as she orgasms, but I enjoy watching the aftereffects of our intercourse almost as much.
My doll is a sexily disheveled mess. Her hair is mussed, and her skirt is pushed up to her waist. Her legs are spread wide open, revealing her bare vagina, my cum dripping out of her, and all the tiny red bite marks I’ve left on her labia and the inside of her thighs.
I like seeing the marks of my touch on her creamy skin. I like seeing the way her body has stretched and changed to accept me. I like seeing the physical evidence of my claiming, dripping from inside of her, coating her in my scent, my seed, my ownership.
Her denying our marriage to the Barnetts, then trying to leave me in favor of Betty, bothered me. It’s why I took her away from there and brought her home. It’s why I touched her and aroused her but didn’t give her an orgasm.
Because only my wife gets pleasurable relief. Only my wife will be stretched wide by my penis. Only my wife receives my fingers and tongue until she screams. If she’s not my wife, we’ll both be left wanting until she accepts my claim.
Tomorrow we’ll be making it official, and after that, there will be no denying who we are to each other. If she needs a ring and a license to understand how bound we are to each other, then I’m glad I’ve already arranged for that to happen.
Judge Lodge will be here in the morning at 1000 hours to officiate our vows and legally tie us together for the rest of our lives, because no matter what happens between us, she’ll always be my wife. Tomorrow morning, we start the rest of our lives together.
“Oh my god,” Doll groans, lifting her hands to cover her face with them.
“Are you in pain?” I question, feeling like I already know the answer.
Her body was wet and more than prepared to accept my penis before I entered her, and the small marks I’ve left on her skin are superficial and not deep enough to cause her any discomfort.
In fact, judging by the way her body reacted, I believe she enjoyed the small amount of pain my sucking and nipping caused her.
“I can’t believe I just let you do that. I need to leave. This is insane. I’m fucking insane,” she blurts, sitting up like she intends to move.
“No,” I say, banding an arm across her waist to keep her in place.
“Stop saying no to me,” she snaps. “I want to go.”
“Where?” I question.
“Anywhere that’s not here,” she says with a panicked laugh.
“Why?” I question.
“Because…” Her words trail off, and she snaps her eyes to mine, like she’s waiting for me to answer the question I just asked her.
“Why?” I ask again.
“Because…”
Again, she trails off, lost for words.
More of my ejaculate dribbles from her channel, sliding between her buttocks and dripping onto the net of her underskirt. My dick pulses, blood filling the head as it slowly grows until it’s standing at attention again.
Pushing my hands beneath her, I unfasten the zip at the back of her skirt, then tug the skirt and underskirt over her hips until they slip down her thighs.
Despite her verbal desire to leave, she lifts her butt and helps me strip the fabric from her lower half, leaving her in just her shredded panties.
Exhaling, I start to slowly unbutton her blouse.
Flicking my gaze to her face after every button, I watch for her reaction, but all I see is want and need staring back at me.
After the last button is free, I push the fabric off her shoulders, then help her slip first one arm, then the other out of the sleeves.
Unfastening her bra, I peel it off her, leaving her naked, except for the scraps of her panties that I didn’t destroy in my haste to touch her.
“Turn over.”
Slowing rolling to her stomach, she keeps her arms pressed beneath her, some of her weight held up on her elbows.
I’ve never entered a woman in this position before, but I slowly lift her lower half up, waiting for her to position herself on her knees before I fist my cock and push just the head into her vagina.
Holding her still, I don’t enter her any further, enjoying the sensation of her body’s warmth sucking at the head of my penis.
“I’m your wife, I’m your wife,” my doll yells frantically, shoving herself back onto my length and impaling herself on me in one relentless thrust.
“Oh my god,” she moans when I’m fully buried inside of her, pressing her face into her hands and arching her spine as she rotates her hips, slowly bouncing on my penis.
“Fuck me, oh god, fuck me,” she begs, so I do as she asks, pulling out slowly, then slamming back in, holding her hips to stop her from moving.
My eyes stay fixed on the way her vagina spreads to accept my penis. Her liquid arousal and the remnants of my ejaculate coat my dick and her skin as she squeezes me tightly every time I bottom out inside of her.
It doesn’t take long for her pants and moans to turn into whining chants that drift between begging and pleading, while she reaffirms my claim over and over, telling me she’s my wife and I’m her husband again and again.
Before I’m ready, she comes, her vaginal muscles clamping down on my penis so hard, it milks the release from my body, forcing me to come with a force and speed I’ve never experienced before.
A rough guttural growl falls from my own lips as I thrust my hips in time with the spurts of ejaculate I’m pumping toward her womb. Despite the arousal I experience watching my sperm drip out of her, I have a primal, instinctive need to keep this load inside of her.
Penetrating her in this position feels animalistic, especially with the way her ass is raised and her head lowered, like she’s presenting her vagina to be bred and her body filled with a baby. Our baby.
I want that. I want to fill her body with my seed and make a baby, or multiple babies. We’ve had sex multiple times already today. If she’s in her most fertile period, her body could already be starting to build a tiny life—half my doll, half me.
When she starts to wiggle, attempting to pull away, I hold her tight, keeping my penis deep inside of her body.
“Knight.”
“Stay still,” I order.
“I need to take a shower,” she whines, exhaling loudly.
“I’ll help in a minute, but for now, I want to stay like this.”
“You’re not sticking that monster of a cock in my ass, so don’t get any funny ideas,” she hisses. “I might have lost my mind, but I’m not that far gone yet.”
“I can arrange a mental health assessment for you if you’d like, but I don’t believe that you’re having a crisis that requires medical intervention,” I advise her pragmatically.
“So far today, I’ve let you undress me, bathe me, and fuck me seven ways since Sunday. Clearly, something is wrong with me,” she says sullenly.
“It’s my job to help you, care for you, and satisfy you. I plan to do all those things every day for the rest of our lives,” I tell her honestly.
She doesn’t speak, but I hear the surprised squeak she tries to muffle with her hands and the comforter beneath her.
That’s okay. I don’t need her to tell me she wants all those things from me.
She’s my mate, my perfect other half, and our futures are bound now by whatever fate, magic, or voodoo brought us together.
The room falls silent, and the sounds of our quiet breaths blend with the peace I feel being connected with her this way.
I’m aware of the kink cockwarming, and while I don’t believe it’s something I’d want to do regularly, there is something primal about keeping her full of me while her body uses my sperm to create a new life.
Perhaps this is something we can do just while we’re breeding, then while she’s pregnant, we can both enjoy watching as my semen drips from her vagina.
When she starts to squirm again, I sigh, then pull back, watching as my penis slips from her body, hitting my thigh with a wet-sounding thwack.
Keeping my hands on her hips, I slowly lower her body to the bed, then lie down beside her, draping my arm across her hip as I nuzzle my nose into her neck.
“We can’t keep doing this,” she says on a sad exhale.
“I plan to do this every day for the rest of forever. This is what our future looks like, Doll.”
“I don’t know anything about you other than how big your dick is.”
“What would you like to know?” I ask, more than willing to answer any questions she has.
“Are your parents still alive?”
“Yes.”
She waits, like she expects me to say more, but what else is there to say?
“Do you have any siblings?”
“I have a younger brother and a younger sister.”
“Are you close?” she asks, with a hint of wistfulness in her tone.
“No.”
“Are you close with your parents?”
“No,” I say again.
“Why not?”
This is harder to answer, but I try. “I’m not like my parents or siblings.”
Rolling to face me, she pushes her messy hair behind her ear, then slips her hands beneath her cheek that’s resting on the comforter. “What do you mean?”
“My parents live in the same town their parents lived in. My siblings live there too. I’m peculiar, and they’re not.”
“Peculiar,” she says, slowly rolling the word over her tongue like she’s trying to understand.
“I don’t enjoy people in the same way others do. I’m…particular.”
“You seem to be enjoying me,” she says, her eyes immediately going wide, like she can’t believe she just said that.
“You’re my wife. It’s different with you,” I admit.
“We’re not actually married, Knight,” she says slowly.
“The legalities are easily resolved,” I tell her matter-of-factly.
“You can’t just declare that I’m your wife and expect me to just accept it.”
“I can. I have,” I inform her.
“What if I’m not interested in you?”
“You are.”
“How would you know?” she snaps, her tone sharpening.
“Because we’re naked and your pussy is full of my cum,” I tell her, using the vernacular she prefers.
I watch as she sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes heating, then narrowing slightly.