Lielit
I held his hand, licking the thick digit before drawing it into my mouth. The sweet, dense seed slid onto my tongue, pulling a moan from me. He withdrew, and I growled—but his fingers brushed my pussy as he gathered more. He chuckled. Not dark. Not arrogant. Simply pleased.
“Good girl. Lick it all up,” he murmured, pushing two fingers into my mouth.
I clutched his hand and worked my lips up and down until they were clean. The heat burned and raged inside me. The more I tasted, the more I needed him inside me.
His hand settled on my hip, guiding me onto my back.
“So filthy,” he muttered, sliding his hands beneath my arse. “This won’t do.”
His mouth closed over my pussy until I shook, only calming when his tongue found its rhythm. He lapped every inch before plunging deeper, grunting as he consumed his own seed. His fingers spread me, inching closer as his tongue moved lower.
I moaned as pressure built against my asshole. His tongue persisted until it breached me—new, sharp pleasure flooding through me. The deeper he pushed, the more I leaked for him.
He inhaled deeply, rubbing his nose against my pussy, a growl rolling up from his chest.
Bouda growled back.
Not a warning.
Approval.
Not for him—but for the animal resting within.
I cared for neither.
All I needed was the knot.
?
?
?
The water tasted bitter. I shoved the glass away, satisfied when it smashed. Instead, I reached for his cock. It tasted far better.
“See? I told you she wouldn’t drink the water,” he said, gripping my head and pushing me back. “This is what she needs.”
He climbed over me until his limbs bracketed my shoulders. The pillow pinned my head in place. His cock loomed above me, and I opened wide. I grabbed his arse and pulled him closer as the sweetness of apples coated my tongue.
“She’ll get fed, alright. Stop worrying. Look at her,” he said—then paused. “No. Really look at her.”
His dick slid into my throat. My eyes watered, but I swallowed until the thick head pressed past the tight ring.
His fingers tightened in my hair as he began to fuck my neck, pulling and pushing my head along his length while he rasped my name.
My hands rested on his thighs before one slid to his knot. The knot was the key. I needed a taste of his fresh, hot seed. My pussy clenched at the thought.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Squeeze my knot. Work for your meal, my hot little cock-sucker.”
He swung his hips, meeting my mouth.
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
His knot—soft as silk—began to tap against my lips.
I could barely breathe as he forced my head down into the pillows.
The wooden headboard creaked when he gripped it.
He squatted over me, and his thick cock began to batter its way into my throat.
I felt him drive in and out with brute force, my neck stretching and contracting around him.
It felt dreamlike—except for the bruising ache that grounded it in reality.
My hands wrapped around his knot, clenching and releasing until his breathing turned ragged.
“Here it comes,” he roared.
I pushed my tongue out past his cock, waiting for my reward. My eyes slid shut as he pulled back.
Warm, thick globs of sweetness coated my tongue, my lips, my chin. I swallowed greedily as he continued to fill my mouth.
I didn’t stop squeezing his knot. I needed every last drop in my belly.
He smeared the come over my cheeks, resting the tip of his cock inside my mouth.
“Drink up,” he murmured, “and I’ll feed your hungry pussy next.”
I hummed before swallowing.
Just what I needed.
?
?
?
Hours, days—morning or night—I lost track of everything in the heat.
I demanded and he gave. There were times he lost control in his rut, pounding my ass like a vicious animal, but every time he made me come. His claws and teeth marked my body, proof etched into my skin.
I slept until the next wave hit. If he wasn’t awake, I toyed with his dick and used him. He always woke for that.
Sometimes I could feel the sweat, the grime, the layers of come—his and mine—caked on me from head to toe. Dreams of cruelty and hatred simmered in the background, but whenever the ache returned, the dreams vanished.
Hunger took over.
Bouda was there.
Silent. Protective. Encouraging.
He dragged me onto his chest. Gravity forced the knot deeper. My head fell back as I milked him again. His breathing turned laboured as he continued to empty himself inside me. One hand lazily strummed my clit while the other toyed with my nipples, holding me hostage.
He knew exactly how to work me—how to make my inner muscles dance around him.
I kept going until I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer.
The darkness was too brief.
The hunger too bright.
“Lielit,” he whispered my name.
It sounded different.
It sounded wrong.