Chapter 7 Selma #2
Instead of answering, she let her hands smooth over his rock-hard stomach muscles, up to the chiseled chest where she dug in her nails, drawing blood and a snarl from the demon.
His hold on her hair tightened painfully, but it only sent the slick heat pooling between her thighs and dripping down her legs as she dug her nails in deeper, pressuring him to take control.
She wanted, needed, him to claim her, to prove he was strong enough to take her as he pleased, and he was going to do just that, even if she had to rip him to shreds first!
Thankfully, he complied.
He yanked her head all the way back with a rough tug, exposing her vulnerable throat to him. His lips followed, burning up the column of her neck until he dug in his teeth in an unspoken claim of dominance.
Selma moaned, momentarily going limp against him as he wound his free arm around her waist. Yes, this was it—this was what she needed him to do! The heat from his mouth and the sting from his bite only fueled her desire.
The second he released her throat, she was pulling at his pants, not quite able to work the buttons in her lust-filled haze. Finally something snapped, and she managed to rip them open before he pressed her against the wall with both her hands locked over her head in his large hand.
“Are you wet for me, sweetheart?” he asked huskily, trailing the fingers not around her wrists down her stomach and—ever so lightly—over the front of her pants.
“Oh fuck, please, please, more!” She strained against his grip, pressing her hips out in a desperate attempt at getting more friction against her painfully sensitive groin, but he easily kept her in place, drawing teasing patterns on the white fabric with just enough pressure to drive her crazy with need.
“I’ll give you more, sweetheart.” His amber eyes bored into hers, forcing her attention to them rather than his naked torso and the ache between her legs.
“Just fuck me!” she gasped and arched desperately, doing her best to reach his warm body with the part of her that needed him the most. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me!”
A feral sneer crossed his features, almost resembling the demonic features the brand had suppressed from her vision.
Marathin stepped closer to her, pressing against her pleading hips roughly enough to flatten her against the door.
“There is no god here, Selma. There is only me and the pleasure. Do not call out for one again, or I will make you regret it.”
The threat might have registered if he hadn’t been close enough for his breath to waft over her face as he stared her down. When he released her hands to grasp at her shirt, she lost all focus for anything but his powerful body.
He ignored her frantic hands as they clawed his torso and ripped at his pants, easily removing her top and pushing her bottoms off before he pulled his length out of his own ruined pants.
She didn’t get a chance to drink in the sight of him as the next moment he lifted her against the wall, bracing with one of her legs on each side of his strong hips.
Her muscles tensed in preparation of what they instinctively knew was coming, even as the entrance to her pussy softened further, weeping with need.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted as he pressed his hard cock against her nether lips, but when she angled down to take him inside of her, her opening protested the stretch.
Marathin didn’t give her time to prepare. With a harsh grunt, he pulled down on her hips, breaching her.
Selma tossed her head back with a wail, pawing weakly at his chest. She was slick with need, but he was rough and she’d not been with a man for years. The demon didn’t care, pushing into her farther—and that’s when she realized that something was wrong—terribly wrong.
The head of his cock—large and bulbous, and otherwise just what she needed—was fully inside of her, but along the rim, something hard and uneven dug into her slick channel, overshadowing even the rough stretch of unaccustomed tissue.
“It won’t harm you if you relax.” He grunted, his own instincts clearly fighting to take over and ram into her to the hilt. “I will explain after... Don’t fight it; it’ll feel good in a minute.”
It wasn’t like she had much choice; her body, though alarmed at the unfamiliar sensation, was too deep in the ring’s spell to put up a fight, and when he pressed in further and those bumps ground against her G-spot, all traces of worry disappeared.
“God!” Selma tossed her head back against the wall again as jolts of uninhibited pleasure rushed through her form. “Hnng!” Her cries abruptly cut off as the demon pushed her down and simultaneously drove his hips up with a single rough jerk, ploughing his cock all the way into her.
She clung to his shoulders, gasping through the shock. Though her pussy was more than ready, her unused muscles protested at the violent entry. He was enormous and diamond-hard, her squeezing core not finding any give in the ridgid mass as she struggled to adjust.
“One more mention of a god of any kind and you won’t be able to walk for a week, do you hear?
” Marathin hissed at her through gritted teeth, but he might as well have spoken Greek for all the sense it made to her; her focus was solely on the need for him to begin the thrusting rhythm she instinctively knew she had to receive to quell her wild lust.
Whimpering at the unyielding pressure, she flexed her hips, trying to gain enough momentum from the wall and his strong hands holding her up to ride him, but he was so deep within her that she could barely move.
But her efforts forced the demon’s attention to the same urge, and he growled with pleasure at her movements, drawing back far enough for the uneven bumps to once more massage her G-spot before he drove in again. And again.
Oh, this was it! This was exactly what she craved, what she was built for, what her entire universe was centered around!
Selma let out a sob of relief even as he pounded her viciously, her abused pussy numb to the ache and her mind swathed in endorphins.
She dug her nails into his shoulders to ensure that he didn’t pull away before she surrendered completely to his control.
Even if she had wanted to, she could do nothing to alter his deep, rapid thrusts, and her efforts to ease the coupling by moving against him went ignored as he lost himself in his instincts.
It took a few minutes before the bliss of being filled and rutted morphed into something more, turning her throaty moans of contentment into sharp cries as the ridges on his cock over-stimulated the deepest parts of her, pulling her towards climax.
It swelled and grew low in her belly with the dull, deep sensation of mounting pleasure, so different from her normal clitoral orgasms. Yet the desperate need for its completion had exactly the same power over her as when he had rubbed her clit until her world shattered.
Frantically she writhed for Marathin, unnecessary pleas for more spilling from her lips even as he ravaged her with the full force of his inhuman strength until…
Yes, finally!
Selma clung to her lover, screaming as her pussy clamped down around him, squeezing his hard length for all it was worth. Black dots danced in front of her eyes as she peaked.
When her orgasm finally released her, she slouched against his shoulder, breathing hard while slowly regaining her bearings.
He had courteously stopped pounding her into the wall while she came, and now his strong arms and the heavy thickness she was still straddling held her aloft, her torso resting intimately against his.
His warmth was comforting, even as the heady pheromones from his sweat forced her tired pussy to contract weakly in an attempt at responding to the demand for every last drop of her lust.
She groaned at the persistent fullness, the ache slowly setting back in as the endorphin rush ebbed. Every time he breathed, small spikes of pleasure would ripple through her from where the bumps on his cock dug into her cunt.
God, what were those things? Now that her craze was dwindling, they weren’t entirely pleasant as they pressed into the deepest, most sensitive spots inside of her, even though they had felt amazing during... whatever it was they’d just done.
Fucked.
She glanced up at the waiting man and shivered at the heat blazing from his eyes. Though he was allowing for her body to recuperate, nothing about the way he looked at her made her think she’d receive any additional mercy.
Goodness, what had she done? The twist of her ring had turned her into some wanton whore, had changed her completely until she was nothing more than an aching vessel for Marathin’s semen—and now she was trapped, melded to a demon who had no intention of letting her get out of the role as his broodmare.
She had begged for this... How could she have given up control so completely?
His all-pervading heat was suddenly anything but comforting; it wrapped around her oppressively, demanding her continued submission.
“I want you on your knees, Breeder.” His voice was husky and deep as he slowly moved his hips against hers again, pulling a groan from her weakly protesting body.
It was as if he could sense that she was no longer under the ring’s thrall and needed a physical reminder of the pleasure he could cause.
“Enough foreplay; you need to get on your hands and knees and take my cock so I can show you what a good little Breeder you’ll be.”
Foreplay? She’d never been fucked so thoroughly in all her life! This had to stop; they had to stop for a moment so she could regain her bearings—regain her sense of self.
“Marathin, wait. Maybe we could—oh!”
Her pleas choked off when he hammered his cock in to the hilt, keeping her pressed against the wall at the hips.
“Don’t even try. You asked to get fucked—and that is exactly what’s going to happen.” He smiled darkly at her as she writhed for him. “But if you prefer, we can certainly make it a little easier for you again.”
“No!” Her eyes flew open as he slipped his fingers in between their bodies.
She pushed at his chest, but it was futile.
If he twisted her ring again, she would be lost, swept away in the firestorm of desire, and she wasn’t sure she could go through that again without breaking completely and permanently.
How many times could she succumb to that bottomless need before there would be no way back?
“Yes.” His warm breath ghosted over her forehead as he wrapped his other hand around her wrists and pinned them to the wall. The dark lust that had taken over his professional persona burned in his gaze, leaving no shadow of reason; he was as lost in her as she had been in him.
Selma panted as he moved slowly and deliberately inside her until her attempts at freeing herself stilled, her traitorous body beginning to wake and respond again, though somewhat more mutedly than it had during the short, wild heat caused by the ring.
Marathin stretched her perfectly, and she was wet enough for the bumps to feel good when he thrust, rubbing them slowly over every sensitive spot inside of her.
“What are they?” she gasped, clenching her fists as he pulled out far enough for her swollen G-spot to receive their firm attention.
“Cartilage ridges along the edge of the head.” He grunted when she squeezed experimentally around them.
“Our own females are stronger than humans and often need to be kept in line during mating. Biology has given us a way to do that. Of course, for human women, it’s just another way to make you beg, isn’t it, sweetheart? ”
Selma mewled in response as he pointedly thrust back in with a bit more force, her hands grasping at air in his grip. His anatomy certainly did quell any desires to attempt resistance!
“I said: Isn’t it?” His lip curled up in a snarl, and before she could gasp a reply, he pounded into her with enough force to make the wall protest. Immediately he let his hips pick up pace to a merciless rhythm that had her thrashing and screaming.
“Yes, yes!” she cried, not quite sure if she obeyed to end his assault on her body, or to ensure that he didn’t stop. “God, please, I—!”
Her high-pitched whine when he reached down and yanked savagely on the ring interrupted her plea and she stiffened, her back arching as hot tendrils shot through her brain and body in pulses, forcing her pussy to contract around him.
The demon toyed with the metal for a bit before he pulled out of her sopping channel and let her slide to the floor.
There was only blazing heat and the sensation of having the most sensitive part of her being stimulated continuously and unrelentingly.
It was more than orgasmic, more than sexual—it was the essence of everything the universe had to offer, and she felt it crack her grasp on reality and her sense of self slowly dissolve.
When he stopped, it was like being ripped away from the source of life itself.
Furiously she launched herself at Marathin with every intent of ripping him apart to get to that blissful source she knew he possessed. Within him was the key to her salvation, to the sweet release of the dark power boiling in her blood.
He growled at her, forcing her to the ground and flipping her over, despite her struggles to tear out strips of his skin.
“On. Your. Knees!” It was a hiss against her ear, followed by his hands pulling at her hips violently enough to make her stop swiping at him. Her arms barely managed to support her own weight in time to keep her head from banging painfully against the floor.
It was a curious thing, really; the moment she was on all fours with her back to him and his fingers bruising her hips, she no longer wanted to rip him apart.
Howling with need, she arched her back for him, her dripping opening clenching on air as her body recognized the true nature of her desperate situation.
Mercifully he mounted her, clearly understanding that he’d driven the Breeder past what she could bear. He plowed into her clamping pussy and growled alongside her sob of relief as he bottomed out, the rut descending fully upon him.