7 | Yaron
Heart Forest
I beg for it. “Please, Omega, please… Kiandah, take my cock, please. Will you please taste me? Will you please drink my cum?” If I beg her, I learn quickly, she’ll do whatever I want.
Dear gods help me.
Help us.
I’m vaguely aware that there’s blood somewhere, that I should be concerned. It’s also touched my awareness that the fireplace is no longer where it was when the evening began and that earth from the hillside now pours into half the cabin. The shutters on the windows and door are blown open. Rain has spilled all over the floor. There were rations of food, but they’re ruined now. There is only the Omega and her sweet slick and her body that calls to me and her voice that works me like an instrument to play whatever notes she likes and do whatever she commands.
My Omega mewls while I nuzzle her neck with my nose, seeking comfort, seeking affection. I am not who I was when I entered this shack. I am no Shadow Lord. I am Lord of Desperation.
“You’re such a good Berserker,” she whispers and I bellow out a roar that shakes the foundation of the cottage. No, the few floorboards that are left. Cold air whooshes across my back, but the fire is still strong. There is no hearth, but a scattering of stones. The fire emanates from them in soft waves, beating in time with her pulse. It pays no mind to the rain.
The moment my knot deflates enough for me to be able to move, I start to pump in and out of her. I don’t know how many times I’ve knotted her — at least six — and I cannot stop now. Lying on our sides, limbs intertwined, I inhale against her throat, wishing, wanting to bond her… Maybe I just should.
“No biting, Berserker,” she says, voice all but a whisper.
I snarl and tip her chin up so I can better access her mouth. “Why not?”
“You haven’t been a good enough Berserker for that.” Her voice is breathy, but severe. I don’t understand the combination. I don’t understand this woman at all. All I know is the need I feel for her, not just to have her body, but to prove her wrong.
I kiss her slowly, as if we are safely in my chambers in the castle, warm and dry and well-fed with all the time in the world. I match her thrusts to the rhythm of my tongue and she moans, swallowing as my venom drips against her tongue. If she won’t let me bond her yet, then this will have to be enough.
Bond…her… I never meant…
“Berserker, you’re doing so well…”
So easily she matches the pace that I set. My eyes roll back. She was made for me. I feel my seed building again, ready and eager to breed her even though her body is full of my cum already. It coats her thighs, a sticky paste that fills me with dark male pride. I shudder out a groan when she tugs on my hair and slowly rakes her fingers down my back, scoring my skin with her nails. Never has there been a more tortured or languid descent into madness, I’m sure of it.
“Please come for me, Omega,” I plead. “Please come for your Berserker.”
As if I’ve pressed a button, the Omega comes on my command. I thrust frantically, hoping to chase her into a second release before the first fades. She wails my name. My name. “Yes, yes! Oh gods! Yaron…” She screams and I try to hold, wanting this to last even as her body squeezes mine in every possible way. Her channel tightens and spasms around my length and my hips stutter.
“I’m going to come, Kiandah. Do I…have your…permission?”
I pause, waiting, wanting the permission she gives so discriminately. Wanting to know how she’ll change the game, or up the stakes. She doesn’t disappoint. The moment she comes down from her high, she lifts her tired, swollen eyelids and spears me with a gaze belonging to a goddess.
“You did such a good job, Berserker, I think you deserve a reward. Don’t you?” She whispers in my ear and I stiffen, mouth drying. I nod frantically, wanting it, craving it with a passion and zeal that borders on insanity.
“Yes, Omega,” I choke.
She smiles devilishly and her loose limbs start to disentangle themselves from my body, robbing me of her warmth. I feel cold, chilled to the bone and I don’t like it. I reach for her but she holds up one finger and I still, desperation changing me irrevocably.
Her sweat-and-cum-slicked body glimmers. She’s so perfect. Pure. Hellish. I want to own her. What? The thought strikes and it’s all wrong, but it’s there and unshakable, just like the desire to bond her. There’s some part of me that knows how wrong it is, but the other part — the entirety of my soul — doesn’t care. She’s mine. She has carved her name inside of my eyelids with the embers she wields.
The fire explodes just a little hotter and the Omega turns her back to me, presenting me a vision of her tight asshole and sloppy, swollen sex. Oh my gods, please tell me to lick her clean… I want that badly. I jerk forward, wanting to take her with my tongue, but before I can, she arches her back and walks her palms out in front of her until her left cheek touches the ground and her hips remain propped up over her knees.
She slips her left arm beneath her body and spreads her lower lips wide. Semen drips out of her and I release a burst of precum. It shoots out of me with such force, it paints the back of her right thigh. I curse and she laughs softly. “Your Omega is presenting for you, Berserker. Come take me like a beast.”
My human legs turn into the massive hind legs of a lupine creature as they bear into wet soil. There are no floorboards, not anymore. My entire body slams into her, taking her to the floor directly before her sentient flames, and it’s here that I continue to rut her savagely and on her command. It is here that I lose my mind.
Inside, my beast preens.
It’s a beautiful thing. Mad, savage destruction. Not of the hunter’s hole, not of her body or mine, but of my soul.