Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
Mine.
The word echoed through Rekosh’s head like a whisper along one of Takarahl’s tunnels, louder and louder with every bounce. It was more than a word—it was a feeling, an instinct, a drive beyond any he’d experienced.
Ahmya was his. Finally, she was his, just as she’d always been, just as she always would be.
Fire blazed through his limbs, making his hide itch and his muscles ache. He needed more, more, more, all of her and then more again. Their bodies were connected now, but he needed their heartsthreads to intertwine, their hearts to beat as one, their spirits to weave together, never again to be separated.
Mine. My beautiful, clever, passionate, gentle mate. My courageous little flower.
Every sensation was heightened. He could feel each blade of grass beneath him, whispering against his hide. Could feel the bite of the silk bindings on his upper wrists, the burn in his muscles as he continued to fight their hold. He could feel her warm skin against his hide, soft and yielding, and the muscles of her thighs flexing, could feel her nails digging into his chest. Even the lingering pain of his wounds somehow added to the thrill.
He could feel her heart beating and her body trembling.
But above all else, he felt the grip of Ahmya’s tight, wet slit, hot as molten gold. Felt it clenching, drawing him in, as hungry for this connection as he was. It wept nectar, the taste of which remained upon his tongue, its sweetness beyond compare, beyond words.
Rekosh forced his eyes to hers. He stared into those dark, lustrous pools, stared into the red reflections of his own overwhelming pleasure.
With a shaky breath, Ahmya lifted her hips and lowered herself once more to take him deeper, easing over the bulge at his base.
A shudder wracked him. He tightened his grip on her, dragging her down farther.
“Rekosh…” she moaned, eyelids drifting shut. Her head fell back, lips parting as she arched her back and rose over him again, hair swaying with her graceful movements. Tiny droplets of sweat glittered on her sun-dappled skin. Her taut brown nipples beckoned him, but his restraints prevented him from reaching them with his tongue.
He inhaled, filling his lungs with fiery air. If the jungle scents were upon it, he detected none of them—there was only Ahmya’s alluring fragrance permeating him, enwrapping him like a cocoon, maddeningly potent with her arousal.
He’d waited so long for this. For her. He’d tried so hard to hold back the mating frenzy, to experience this moment with Ahmya with a clear mind, to relish this time with his delectable little mate. To be gentle, and to give her all possible pleasure.
But what he’d heard, what he’d seen, had not prepared him for the ferocity of the frenzy .
With Ahmya’s scent dominating the air, with her body moving atop his, with her pussy gripping his stem, devouring him, he could not resist. His mind was unraveling, the threads coming undone faster and faster with each beat of his hearts.
Rekosh barely felt the ropes biting into his wrists, barely heard the roots cracking behind him as they gave way to his exertion. He barely noticed his bruising grip on her hips, or that he was controlling her movements, quickening her pace. Pleasure crashed through him with each slide of her hot slit along his length, flaring whenever she slammed down on him. And he thrust up to meet her every time, burying himself a little deeper, dragging throaty, ragged gasps from her.
But it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t deep enough, fast enough, fierce enough. Each wave of sensation only exacerbated his need. He needed to bind her in his silk. Needed to claim her. Needed to rut. He needed to put his mark on her, plant his seed within her, and make himself one with her forever.
“My flower,” he rasped.
Ahmya opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Forgive me.” The final strands of self-control within Rekosh tore.
With a snarl, he threw all his strength against the remaining ropes. The roots crunched and snapped, finally breaking, and Rekosh’s body jerked forward.
He clutched Ahmya tight against him with his claspers and lower arms, tearing gouges in the ground with his legs as he shoved up and flipped their positions so she lay beneath him and he was braced over her.
So she was trapped.
She stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes.
Baring his teeth, he slammed his pelvis forward, thrusting his stem deeper into her.
She cried out and slapped her hands on his chest, her back arching and legs quivering. The squeeze of her pussy nearly undid him. But his mind was in a haze, stained red by the mating frenzy, consumed by overwhelming pleasure…and instinct would not be denied.
Claim her.
Rut her.
Conquer her.
Rekosh’s spinnerets were already working, his rear legs already feeding a silk strand to his waiting hands.
Mine.
Working faster than his eyes could track, his hands deftly guided the rope around her body. He spread her legs wide, bent them so her calves were pressed to her thighs, and bound them, ensuring she could not close herself to him. He looped the strand around her pelvis, securing it with hasty but intricate knots up to her slender waist, over the flat of her belly, and between her small, supple breasts, framing them before he knotted it around her back and shoulders. Finally, he caught her wrists, forced them over her head, and tied them together.
All the while, his cock throbbed, nestled deep in her wet, welcoming heat. All the while, her pussy clenched, assailing him with sensation, thickening the crimson haze that had gripped his mind. All the while, her scent urged him on.
“You belong to me, my nyleea ,” he rumbled, planting his upper hands on the ground to either side of her head. His lower hands grasped her legs, tugging her body snug against his. She let out a soundless, breathy cry, and he growled.
“Forever claimed.” Spreading his bent legs to either side, he drew his hips back and stared down into her half-lidded, lustful eyes. “Forever conquered.”
Rekosh emphasized those words by driving his hips forward and burying himself in her as deep as he could. Ahmya’s pussy wrapped snugly around his bulges .
Her back bowed, her little fingers clawed at the grass, and she sang her pleasure. Rekosh gave her more. And he took everything.
He pumped in and out, his claspers hooking over her thighs to draw her into his every thrust, each of which came faster than the last. Pleasure buzzed through him, an incessant, building hum that eclipsed the jungle around him. There was only him, only her. Only their bond.
Ahmya’s moans and cries were the only song he cared about. He added his own sounds to it—grunts, growls, snarls, and hisses as his legs scrabbled for more purchase, as he lifted her backside and angled his pelvis to get more leverage, more depth, more speed.
As he rutted his mate.
“Forever mine ,” he declared.
She writhed beneath him, her dark hair spread wildly around her like the petals of a flower that had blossomed for Rekosh alone. The sounds of her pleasure filled the air. “Rekosh… Please…”
More. Take more. Give more.
She is mine.
She is all, everything.
The fingers of his upper hands curled, burying his claws in the ground. The waves of ecstasy came so fast now that they were as one—an unrelenting stream of sensation that could not be stemmed, could not be denied, could not be diverted.
Not that he wanted to.
This was ecstasy. Even the ache in his injured leg, even the way his ragged breaths tore at his lungs and throat. The pressure building in his stem, already so powerful that it threatened to tear him asunder, was so painful it had become pleasure. The inferno blazing at his core, so hot it would surely reduce him to ash, only made every feeling stronger .
He lifted one of his lower hands to cover her breast, kneading the soft flesh under his palm as he held her down.
“What are you, vi’keishi ?” Rekosh demanded, catching the hardened bud of her nipple between finger and thumb and pinching, eliciting a gasp from his mate.
“I’m…I’m yours! Yours…forever…” Ahmya’s words came short and sharp, escaping between her harsh, panting breaths.
His leg joints sank into the soft ground as he thrust harder, faster. Her tender flesh yielded to his fingers and claws, and her slit clutched at his stem desperately, ravenously, fighting in vain every time he pulled back, drawing him in every time he plunged inside her.
“Your little slit… Feel how it fits? How it takes my cock? Ah, my pretty, pretty mate. See how it needs me?” A ragged snarl escaped him. “How you need me?”
Ahmya arched her neck as she rasped, “Yes! I need you so much.”
Rekosh’s mandibles spread. Her sounds, her scent, her feel, her beauty…he was lost in this, lost in her. But something prodded at his mind. Another instinct, as yet denied. Another need.
Her flesh was so lovely, so smooth and soft. Perfect but for one thing. Missing only one thing.
All will know she is mine.
All will know my claim.
A growl tore from his chest as he bent over her, parted his jaws, and sank his teeth into her shoulder.
Ahmya screamed. Her body went rigid beneath him, and her warm blood trickled into his mouth. It was sweet, with a tang he could not place.
She’ll bear my mark.
He sank his teeth deeper.
Mine.
Mine .
Rekosh forced his mouth open. The fire inside him had grown into a scorching blaze, and the pressure in his stem was too immense to comprehend. The slightest twitch of Ahmya’s body should’ve been enough to push him over the edge, to make him burst. Yet somehow, he held himself still long enough to gently lick the blood away from her wound.
“My nyleea ,” he purred. “My precious little flower.”
Mine.
“My luveen ,” she said fervently, turning her face toward him. “My husband.”
Her words stoked Rekosh’s inner flames. He shoved himself up with his upper arms, angling his head to stare down at her. Despite her fluttering lashes, she held his gaze, her dark eyes gleaming with need to match his own.
He pulled back and drove into her hard, again and again, rutting with newfound vigor and passion. Her gasps and moans wove with his growls and grunts after each thrust.
The heat and pressure expanded and intensified.
“Bound to you,” he rasped between his breaths. “I…am bound. We are bound. Thread to thread. Hearts…to heart. Spirit to spirit.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
With a final thrust, Rekosh buried his cock as deep as it could go, until her pussy encased his bulges, sealing him in, and his slit was flush with hers.
That very moment, her sex squeezed him with stunning strength, with staggering need, and all that pressure within him finally burst. A bestial roar clawed out of Rekosh’s throat as seed erupted from his stem. He shut his eyes. Pleasure shrouded his vision completely in crimson and silenced his every thought.
There was only all-consuming rapture. It was the thread that bound Rekosh to Ahmya, that wove their heartsthreads, their souls, together fully and finally. Bliss, pure and true .
It was not possible to be this close to anyone. To be this interwoven. To fit together so seamlessly, so perfectly. Not even the Eight themselves could have designed this joining better.
Not even the Eight themselves could have created a creature so beautiful as Rekosh’s nyleea .
Through that euphoric haze, he was aware of the slit at the end of his stem parting, of his tendrils emerging to stroke his mate from within. His breath shuddered as their fluttering movements sent fresh pulses of ecstasy through him, coaxing forth more of his seed.
But it was Ahmya’s reaction that brought him true joy.
She gasped. “What is?—”
Her words broke in a cry of pleasure that had her entire body seizing beneath him. Her pussy clenched around his cock so tightly that his breath caught in his lungs, his head seemed to spin, and his limbs nearly gave out.
Liquid heat flooded Ahmya within. Rekosh buried his claws in the ground and growled, riding the currents of pleasure as she came undone around him, as her convulsions and cries drew ever more seed from his stem.
When the frenzy subsided, and the haze lifted from his mind, Rekosh dropped onto his forearms, holding himself aloft over his mate. He bowed his head. His chest and shoulders heaved with his ragged breaths, and his body trembled with the onslaught of pleasure still roiling through him. He was aware of Ahmya beneath him, her warm breath teasing his hide, was aware of his stem buried deep inside her, of her soft inner walls spasming around it, of his tendrils flittering within her.
Ahmya’s soft lips brushed across his chest. “Rekosh.”
A low purr rumbled in his chest, and he bent closer to her, nuzzling her hair. He drew in her scent, now laced so intricately with his. Their scent. With a croon, he shifted his hand from her breast to rest over her heart, which pounded rapidly under his palm .
Alive.
How many times had he nearly lost Ahmya? How many times had her life nearly ended, which would never have allowed them to come to this point? To mate, to bind themselves together so fiercely that Rekosh would challenge the Eight before he let them or anything else take her from him.
Slowly, he moved his hand from her heart to her throat. He curled his fingers around it loosely, again feeling her pulse, and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “My heartsthread, you unmake me.”
Ahmya hummed softly and brought her bound wrists to his face, cupping his jaw between her hands. “I love you.”
With another purr, he pressed his face into her palms, scraping his mouth over them in a kiss. But he stilled his face as the tremors within him escalated again, bringing new surges of pleasure. His tendrils thrummed, caressing her sex and coaxing her open within, even while building him to a new peak.
She wriggled her body, grinding her slit against his. “Rekosh?”
A harsh breath escaped him as his claspers gripped her firmly, refusing to let her go. He opened his eyes to look at her. “Ahmya…”
Her chest rose and fell in quick succession, and her brows pinched. She arched her back, grinding her pussy harder against him, taking his stem impossibly deeper. “What am I feeling inside? What are you….” She moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m… I’m… Oh God, I’m coming again!”
With a cry, she dropped her bound hands over her head. Her body tensed, and her sex spasmed.
Rekosh snarled as another climax seized him. Their bodies released in unison, more of her slick flowing with his freshly spilled seed, his pleasure mingling with hers, their bodies remaining connected, remaining intertwined.
Rekosh reveled in the sensations. Reveled in this closeness, which was beyond his greatest imaginings, beyond anything he could’ve hoped for. Together, they rode out the waves of pleasure.
When finally the sensations began to fade, Rekosh chittered. “Ah, kir’ani vi’keishi . Would that I could bind us together like this forever, because this is where I belong. With you.”