Chapter 19
Warmth.
Radiant. Spreading and insistent, centered on the tip of her nipple.
Eyes fluttering open, she gasped. Blinded, for a moment. Seeing nothing but a glaze of darkness streaked through with the bioluminescent blue she’d come to know so well. Gaze tracking down, toward the sucking heat, she looked.
And then—silver.
Molten.
Nyx.
His eyes were locked onto hers, but his lips… they were sealed around her nipple. Tongue working, suction rolling that beaded peak in slow, agonizing waves while he rolled the other between forefinger and thumb. Careful of his claws. Petting the transition from scales to delicate skin.
“Nyx,” she whispered, voice a breathy little burr of sound. “What… what are you doing?”
Humming, somehow hitting a vibration that felt patronizing and droll, as if it should be obvious, he lifted one brow and switched to her unattended nipple without bothering to answer her question.
She laughed, fingers tangling in his hair. “Rude.”
Shifting more fully above her, he turned that hum into something deeper. Sending the sound straight down her spine, where it tugged at the backside of her pelvis. Where heat pooled between her thighs, traced the bowl of her womb.
Gills flaring wide, she gasped. Head falling back as she cursed and arched for him. Dazed by it. Not sure how to behave, for she’d grown accustomed to the savagery of rutting. Knew how to draw pleasure from the haze of male need.
She didn’t know what to do with… this.
It was… soft. Slow.
A kind of worship she’d only ever given. One she’d never… taken before, even when he’d set his lips between her legs and feasted.
This was… different.
Each sucking pull sent a shower of sparks cascading through her scales. Rippling in peals of gold and violet that chased each other across her skin.
Lifting her head, lips parting on a ragged breath, she stared down at him with wide eyes. “You… you don’t… have to…”
Her hips jerked, silencing her denial.
Slick.
It brightened the water with the truth she was too timid to admit. Lightning and citrus, laced with that sweet, warm glow of honey.
“Don’t…” Throat working, pupils ballooning out in a slow sweep, she licked her lips. Entranced by the deep pull. The suction on nipples growing more sensitive with every passing tide as the pregnancy altered her body. Enchanted by the ache building in her womb. “Don’t stop.”
Wicked amusement blazed in his eyes, and he growled. Low. Releasing her caught nipple with a lewd, wet pop.
“Oh, you heartless—”
He switched. Hungrier now, sucking hard enough to make her spine arch as he pulled her into the heat of his mouth. Scraping her delicate skin with the point of his fangs without breaking the skin.
Teasing her.
Breath growing ragged, Kore’s breath heaved between her lips. Bubbled through her gills. “O-Oh,” she gasped, cheeks flushed warm as her biolume heated. “Yes. That… Like that.”
And then, fingers wandering, she traced the bladed edge of his jaw. Feeling him work that relentless rhythm as her whole world grew narrow. Fixed. To the careful press of his claws and the delicious, tender heat pulling at her skin.
It was perfect.
Not enough.
Maddening and dreamy. Exceptional torment.
“Please,” she whispered, “I… I need you. Inside me,” she breathed, letting the words tumble out before her pride might catch them.
He didn't answer.
Held his silence and continued to feast.
Watching her from below, predatory and coiled. Almost… desperate. As if searching for something she didn’t know to look for. “Nyx, what—”
He abandoned her nipple, palm tracing the length of her ribs. The gentle swell of her belly. And then he cupped her, the heel of his palm kissed her clit. Pressing down in a maddening grind that dragged a desperate groan from her chest.
“You’re… you’re distracting me,” she said, accusing him.
But it was working.
Too well.
For although she felt his lips twitch against her breast, smiling and devious, he slipped two fingers inside her. Careful. Claws angled away from anything delicate, he stretched her out. Toying with her, before his mouth followed.
The first stroke of his tongue shattered thought entirely.
Keening, her knuckles whitened against his scalp as he licked a broad trail through her slick.
Matching her, groaning, Nyx feasted. Sealing his lips around that swollen pearl, he sucked. Sending a tide of pleasure through her blood. Hot. Merciless. Every pull precise, each rolling wave of his tongue undulating against her as he dragged another helpless noise from her lips.
“G-gods, Nyx.”
Crooning between her thighs, his tongue painted a trail of devastation against her pussy. Twisting her tighter, higher. Even as his fingers continued to knead at her nipple, pulling and releasing in time with the rolling pleasure building inside her.
Hips rolling, she rode his face. Helplessly. Fingers twisting in his hair as she pulled him closer. “Yesss. Right… right there. Please. Please, Nyx, don’t… don’t stop…”
It was a sultry coil. Pleasure that drew her womb back, up. An obscene flex of her internal muscles that made her clench as a distinct, strange pressure built inside her womb. Everything behind her navel tightened. A cramp banding tight between her hips. So much different in pregnancy.
It was a tide drawing back from shore—before the tsunami crashed against the earth.
Her womb lifted and held taut by muscles preparing for childbirth.
“Please,” she whined, shameless and utterly desperate. “Gods, I’m s-so close. It’s… it’s perfect. Don’t stop. Please.”
Undulating, his tongue laved all that was firm and throbbing.
Once.
Twice more.
And then—gone.
A chill rushed into the void, washing against slick, desperate heat.
Protest filled her throat, a frantic plea aborted when his lips closed over her nipple.
“Bastard.”
It was a sob. A laugh. Undercut by the deranged, haggard moan he dragged from her chest as he resumed that horrible, incredible treatment. Edging her toward madness as he kneaded her breasts in long, slow pulls.
One, and then the other.
Unhurried devotion. Sucking and licking as he dangled her above the abyss and left her throbbing around nothing. Despite the pressure that remained. That she was right there. Tight as a drawn bow. Aimed but not loosed. Left abandoned on a cliff.
“You… hnghh… You absolute savage,” she whined, pulsing in exquisite torment. “I was right there. Right… right there.”
He pressed a smile to her breast. Humming in acknowledgment. Rolling her peak, crooning when her hips bucked and she sent a ribbon of slick curling into the current, perfuming the brine with the lure meant to enslave him.
Still, he kneaded. Resisting her song. Unhurried. Languid and infuriating, he let his teeth graze her nipple.
It dredged up a wave of mindless begging. Words bitten into tiny pieces. Incoherent syllables and fragments that were meaningless alone, but together, performed a symphony of frenzied, shameless need.
Kore sobbed.
Taking pity on her, laughing deep in the barrel of his chest, Nyxarion descended once more. Tongue dragging through her pussy, drinking her down in sloppy, greedy gulps, it was his turn to groan, and it was a sound laced with a primal edge of male satisfaction.
“Gods, yesss…” she hissed, chin tilting back. Exposing her throat as she got what she needed. Gills flared wide in a helpless display of crimson submission, her breath frozen between her ribs, for his lips had sealed around her clit once more.
And she was so close…
Right… there…
Pleasure started to crest, her colors burning bright. Building.
He pulled back, sending a stream of cool water to temper the blistering heat of an inferno ready to ignite.
Spine twisting, she flinched away from the jet of water and found herself trapped by merciless hands. Hips pinned in place, her petals peeled apart by the crude sweep of his thumbs. "Please," she said, sobbing now. Coming undone at the seams. "Please, I need it. Please—"
It was a dance.
A murder.
Glacial and devastating.
The meticulous destruction of everything she was.
At every crest, he would pull her back from the summit. Lap at her slick and drink her in as she cooled, only to suck her clit and force her back up. Higher. The mountain of luxury rising above the highest tide she’d ever known.
“Nyxarion," she said, weeping as he made a mess of her. Working at her own nipples with clumsy fingers. Trying to mimic what he’d been doing to her, those long, milking pulls. "Nyx, I can't… I can't take it. I… I need…"
Grinning now, he relented. Worshiping her clit until her colors betrayed her. Pulsing in waves of gold and violet.
Until she was babbling and begging. "I'll do anything,” she said, words spilling forth in a desperate stream. "A-anything you want, just… please. Please let me cum,” she rasped, belly coiled and tight, wound past the point of sanity.
Another denial.
A stream of black waters robbing her of relief, while his hands traced her scales as if searching.
Petting every inch of her body. The dip at her waist, the hollows between each of her ribs.
Where her hips shimmered with scales. Everywhere his venom had rendered her changed with scales or fins, he touched.
Mapping the overlapping edges, like he might find something hidden between them.
But Kore couldn’t think.
Or breathe.
There was only the maddening pace of pleasure and denial. Touch that lit her skin ablaze as the frantic exploration grew frenzied.
And then she started cursing. “You… you in-insufferable, barnacle encrusted monster." The insults tumbled from her lips, foul and jagged, language she'd heard while chained in the hold of an Athenian trireme. "Cock sucking, unforsaken, malevolent fucking beast—"
Nyxarion laughed.
Rich, bubbling amusement rattled the brine in her bones with the tenor of unrepentant mirth.
“I'm pregnant, you absolute brute." Voice crackling, a whine splintered through her teeth. "Pregnant, and you're… you… you’re torturing me. Pleeease."
Moving to plant a kiss on the taut bulge of her belly, where she was coiled and miserable with the ache of pleasure, he nosed at her scales. Tasting. A tender sweep of his tongue that was too fucking far from where she so desperately needed it to be.
Arching beneath him, fingers knotted in his hair as she tried to shove him back down, she said, “I hate you,” through a broken moan. "I hate you so much. So… so much…"
Grinning, eyes gleaming in the reflection of her suffering, he laughed again. Her wicked, evil leviathan.
And when he took pity on her at long last, drawing her pearl between his lips, she keened. Thighs clamping shut, slinging one thigh over his shoulder to keep him pinned in place. Trapping him there, determined to take it.
He rewarded her with a purr.
Resonance poured through her petals. Ripples of sound that crashed against what little remained of her sanity, and quaked in her marrow.
In an instant, she shattered.
Crumbling against his lips.
It was tectonic. A quake that rattled muscle and bone, dancing through sinew strung taut through the arch of her spine. Leaving her shuddering, lungs frozen. Staring wide and sightless. Muscles jumping with the force of her release.
Eyes rolling white, vision edged in prisms of blinding color, Kore twisted. Rendered fat puddled in seawater. All the pieces of her detonated against a scattered constellation of pleasure so bright, she couldn’t stand to touch it.
Couldn’t help but be consumed by the flames. Utterly. Entirely.
There was nothing but a strangled sound before her gills seized and flattened against her throat. Clamped shut.
It didn’t stop—he wouldn’t let it. Dragging wave after wave through overstimulated flesh, he purred against her nerves. Touching the live wire of pleasure that kept her clenching and lurching. Liquid release gushed from where she clenched around nothing.
Empty.
Too full.
Her belly rock-hard as her muscles froze in one rigid, involuntary flex.
Still, he didn’t relent.
What hadn’t been enough became far, far too much. A gasp clapped through her gills, caught in the ridges of her throat. Clattering and broken when his tongue found her slit and bullied inside. So he might drink her slick straight from the source. Lewd, rumbling gulps.
Hips bucking, pinned still and open, she came again. Dragged back down before she could even gasp for a sip of air, trying to fill lungs that no longer had a use for something so basic. So human.
Flimsy nails scoring at his scalp, she pushed with one hand. Pulled with the other.
Every blistering second of it etched through the Raskoril as it strobed with the echoes of her consumption. Reflecting the ripples of his purr as Nyxarion wrung every last drop of pleasure from her ravaged body.
Pupils yawning wide and inky black, tears leaked from unseeing eyes. Swept away by dark waters before any might see the nature of her total domination.
And still.
Nyxarion worshipped her.
Lapping at the flood of slick until her body could give nothing else. Until her muscles went slack, and even the overwrought tremors were depleted of anything resembling vitality. Until she was soft. Pliant and limp.
Drained of everything, except the distant will to live.
Only then did he slow. Gentled by her complete submission.
Puddled in the bowl of the throne, Kore could scarcely summon the strength to blink. Even her scales were muted, the cascade of color—usually so bright with the fire of a glorious sunset—were subdued. Weary.
And it was then, through the sweet fog of delirium swamping her mind, that Kore felt it.
The weight.
A strange pressure that felt heavy as her nipples puckered.
Nyx didn’t notice.
He was consumed with her scales. Searching between the tiny shells, his eyes clouded with a worry she couldn’t comprehend.