Chapter 8 Selma
Selma
It took three pained orgasms before sense returned to Selma. Her bucking stilled as she gasped through the aftermath of her last climax. Every muscle in her body ached, their consistency resembling that of jelly, and her breathing was ragged and wheezing.
With a whine, she gave up her attempt at staying on her hands and knees, sliding down on her stomach and leaving the man still hard and buried in her to follow.
He did, pressing his weight down over her, and though she was no longer under the mark’s spell, her exhausted mind understood his display of dominance. It felt… good, but something half-muted tried to claw its way through the thick fog to remind her that she was in enemy hands.
Those same hands moved from her hips, smoothed down her arms as he readjusted his weight over her, and finally braided with her fingers as he lifted halfway up again. The next moment she grunted with him as he thrust into her.
It didn’t hurt exactly, as she was still sopping wet and open, but with the craze lifted, she was acutely aware that her pussy was battered and swollen, and every push of his ridged cock tormented her over-stimulated flesh with pleasure she could barely withstand.
There was no reprieve yet, though—not before her forceful lover had found his release—so Selma purposely pushed the protesting part of her mind aside and lifted her hips so he could fill her more easily.
The smacking of his flesh against hers made it easier to drown out the objections from both her body and brain. She moaned, giving in to Marathin’s dominance and cock yet again, drunk on his pheromones and the lazily mounting pleasure in her loins.
“Mmm, my sweet. Like that.” His voice in her ear was hoarse with tension from an impending climax and the long, hard build-up for it.
Growling, he bit the back of her neck, and when she whimpered her surrender, he released her right hand and let his own find its way underneath her to her sweet spot.
She jolted, straining up while clutching at the floor, but before she could adjust, he drove his cock deep. A few hard, full thrusts and she gave up fighting his touch, her keening taking on the shrill note of yet another orgasm as he once again proved his total control over her body.
She took his cock to the hilt over and over, gritting her teeth against the power he was driving into her with while her pussy struggled to bring her the release he was demanding.
It only took minutes before the pressure in her abdomen overcame her fatigued muscles and she came with a hoarse cry, milking the demon with the last bit of energy she could produce.
Thankfully, it was enough. A deep, inhuman roar ripped from the beast on top of her as he slammed in one last time before stiffening. Hot liquid pulsed against her cervix, filling the few crevasses of her pussy not fully stretched to their limits as he finally seeded her.
When Marathin collapsed on top of her with a satisfied sigh, the only thing she had energy left for was gasping air into her burning lungs and listening to her own thundering heartbeat.
She closed her eyes, tiredly hoping that there would be no permanent damage done to her system from the intense over-stimulation.
They rested together in silence for a long while, the warmth of his body shielding her from the world and enveloping her mind in his masculine musk, soothing her while she calmed down.
Only when his heavy cock began deflating, letting warm semen ooze down her thighs, did her brain jolt back to life.
He’d bred her.
“Am I pregnant?” she whispered into the sinewy arm he’d curled around her head as tendrils of fear snaked their way through the pleasant afterglow.
She had lost herself so completely to his demonic magic that she hadn’t protested his desire to seed her, had even welcomed it when she felt his semen coat her womb.
“No, sweetheart.” Marathin pushed himself up and she groaned when he pulled out of her, the ridges on his softened cock still prominent enough to tease her tender pussy. “It can only happen during your ovulation, and even then the chances are slim.”
Relief washed through her; while her slowly returning sense of self-preservation might have questioned the truth in anything he said, his longing tone made it obvious he would have delighted in having even a small chance at impregnating her.
So at least she wouldn’t have to face a demon spawn growing inside of her while she tried to understand what had happened to her in the past few hours. Or in the last twenty-seven years.
“Shh.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder blade before gathering her up and cradling her in his arms like a child. “Be calm, my sweet. There’s no need for worrisome thoughts.”
With a gentle peck to the top of her head, he twisted around to lie back down on the floor, this time using his body as cushioning for hers.
Before she could put distance between them, he propped a knee in between her thighs to make her more comfortable, and probably not-so-coincidentally stopping her from rolling off him.
Selma hauled in a slow breath, tempted to give in to his warmth and heady scent trying to lull her back into that relaxed post-orgasmic state. But despite her exhaustion, her mind was slowly returning now that the hormonal fog was lifting.
“Good girl. Just relax. I’ll take care of you, my sweet. You’ll be safe with me.” Marathin’s voice was oddly muted, as if his thoughts were miles away while he absentmindedly breathed in her scent.
He might have meant his words to be soothing, but they caused a jolt of fear to spike through her chest even as she stayed perfectly still in his arms.
He’d made her promise she’d never reject him again, and the way he was talking now…
“Don’t be afraid,” he mumbled before rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. “I’ll take such good care of you.”
Like she was a pet.
“I’m not scared,” she whispered.
“I told you not to lie to me.” There was annoyance in his voice this time. “Your scent changes with your emotions—fear, distress... It spikes through even the intoxicating smell of pleasured Breeder. I know when you lie. I won’t tolerate deceit and disobedience.”
She swallowed thickly, his ominous words doing nothing to ease her fear. Her pussy ached from the rough sex, and though there was no denying how much she’d enjoyed his attentions, it’d been forced on her.
And now, the way he was acting as if she was something that belonged to him? It stirred the same unpleasant sense of foreboding his words before he’d taken her had. Thankfully, it also awakened her survival instincts.
He was stronger than her, had trapped her and used her broken mind to clamp a magic mind-control ring on her most sensitive parts—and he could tell when she lied. If she wanted to escape, she’d have to play along until she found out how to get away.
And if his behavior now was an indicator, perhaps she could use whatever possessive asshole urges had arisen in him during the mating to help herself. Scary as the doctor was, she was relatively certain she’d stand a better chance at escaping him before he sold her.
“I can’t help it,” she said softly. “I’m going to get sold off to some… some stranger. And you… what we did… It’s just a lot right now.”
He was quiet for a bit, stroking her hair while he mulled over her words. Then he rolled to his side, careful to place his arm under her head. There was still no fire in his eyes, but possessiveness flamed in them nonetheless.
“What if you weren’t to be sold? Would you like that?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, that sounds pretty good, not gonna lie.”
He chuckled at her lip, his free hand coming down to pinch her naked backside. “If you agree to be mine, you won’t have to go through an auction.”
Selma frowned, biting her lip as she looked at him. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. And if I were found out, there would be a price to pay. But this is the length I’m willing to go—for you, my sweet. I’ll keep you safe from the Lords and their brutality.”
“Why?” she persisted. “How many other women have you—”
“None!” he interrupted her, lip pulling up in a silent snarl as he pushed her off his shoulder and rose to his feet. His eyes blazed at her with so much anger she shrank back against the cold floor.
Marathin pulled a hand through his hair, his look of anger fading into frustration.
“You think I’d risk my standing for a regular little tart?
You call to me, Selma. Your scent… it’s so intense.
Spellbinding. The Lords may think they deserve you, but I’m older than most of them.
I am powerful enough to keep you. Strong enough to breed you.
If you wish it, I will make you mine. You cower from me now, but in time, you will be grateful for my sacrifice. ”
And there it was: the true reason for his possessive urges. He wanted to own her because of her supposed “purity.” Because he saw her as a rare and valuable trinket. There was no tender emotion in his amber eyes, no empathy for her plight.
In that moment, she realized he had no intention of giving her up.
His hints that she had a choice in the matter were empty.
The humiliating proof of how skilled a manipulator he was lay between her thighs where she’d let him ring her, and he was attempting the same now—trying to make her believe that she chose her own fate as he expertly guided her where he wanted her.
She might have been scared and broken when she came to him, even naive. But Selma wasn’t stupid.
“I’m… still scared of you, I won’t deny it,” she said softly. “You’re a demon, after all. But… you’ve shown me kindness. Pleasure. I will stay with you—if you’ll have me.”
Through her lowered lashes she saw his warm smile, the last vestiges of anger draining from his posture. He bent for her, lifting her to her feet before he pulled her close and pushed her hair out of her face.
“Then you shall be mine, sweetheart. For the rest of eternity, you will belong to me.”
Selma let him pull her all the way in so his traitorous heat surrounded her from all sides, and she didn’t flinch when he sniffed at her hair in greedy gulps.
She’d play the submissive female for him until he lowered his guard.
And then she’d be gone, and he could spend eternity alone for all she cared.
“I’ll take you to your room,” Marathin murmured against her scalp. “You need to rest, and I need time to draw up your contract. Once you’ve given your soul to me, I plan on teaching you exactly what a good little Breeder you’ll make.”