Qanek
My wife was so soft.
My wife.
Wife.
The very word gripped me tight and refused to leave. It wrapped around my soul, sinking down to my stone bones. Everything I had ever strived for, finally at my grasp. I had a wife, and she promised to never leave.
Her heat enveloped me, her insides so smooth and tight and wet. We had finished, but I craved her again. I would have her. But her body was languid and relaxed, laying over mine as she hummed a sound of satisfaction that poured hot lava all over my cock.
It stirred, vibrating within her luscious heat and she groaned, shifting against my body.
“Hold tightly to me, wife,” I purred, wrapping my arms around her waist and hiking her legs up around me. She locked them into place, and while our bodies were still connected, I soared into the sky.
She moaned but held tightly, pushing closer to me than she had been before, as though she were afraid of the height, of the cold.
But I would never let her fall.
I wanted us in the safety of our den. While hunting her had been a primal, desperate need, I needed her safety more.
Demons in the Underworld feared my brothers and me, but there were few brave ones who would dare attack.
I would not put my wife’s life at risk, even if we had our pleasure and it would be burned into my memories forever.
My den–our den–was far safer. I could fuck her again and again without the worry of being attacked.
I flew inside and straight to our nest. I did not want our bodies to separate, but I pulled her off my cock, slowly losing her warmth as I laid her down. Immediately, our mingled releases slid out of her with a wet sloshing sound. My glowing release and…
“Wife.” Panic seized me. “You are bleeding.”
Through lazy lids, she looked down at where blood stained the insides of her thighs.
My claws gripped them, examining her center for injuries.
“You are hurt.”
Had I hurt her? Had I been too aggressive in our joining?
That had to be the truth. For a moment, I had forgotten myself, too gripped by my own feral urges, that I had not measured my own strength. We were different. She was soft where I was hard, and my cock had speared her, harmed her.
“Wife,” I growled. “Why did you not tell me? I… I…”
“Hey.” Her palm cradled my cheek, lifting so our eyes met. “It’s okay.”
I huffed, anger filling me. “It is not. I have harmed you, after I vowed I would not, that I would protect you. I–”
“Qanek,” she interrupted firmly. “That’s… normal.”
“Blood is not normal.”
Her face flushed a glowing shade of red, my fire still inside her. “Qanek,” she explained patiently. “Sometimes when humans have sex for the first time there’s… blood.”
I stared at her with confusion. “The first time?”
She swallowed, glowing a brighter shade. “That’s why I say it’s normal. Um… this, um, it was my first time and… and I won’t bleed again. It’s just a one time thing. But you didn’t hurt me, not in the way you’re thinking. I… um…”
“First time?”
My brain was attempting to process the words.
“Yeah, you are the first man–male–I’ve ever been with.”
I stared, registering the words. In my short time in the human world, I had noticed that they were liberal with their bodies.
They fucked, and often, even if they were not mated or married.
I had assumed my wife would have indulged in others before me, and it had made me that much more determined to learn to please her when I had her.
But knowing that Lucero had never been with anyone…
“Say something!”
My brows drew together. “What would you like me to say?”
“I don’t know. I mean, the first time is supposed to be a big deal and now I’m nervous. I don’t have any special skills and I just want to know if I pleased you or if you hated it–”
I silenced her by placing my tongue within her open mouth. She gasped before her tongue touched mine and we were engaging in the ‘kiss’ as she called it.
My claw slid across her neck, feeling the beat of her life there.
I pulled away, but kept my hold tethered to her body.
“Do not speak such things,” I told her. “That was my first time as well, and I was very pleased. Did I please you, wife?”
“Y-you did.”
I nodded.
“Then, I would like to please you again.”
“Again?”
“Do not object.” Slowly I pushed her onto our nest. “There is something I wish to try.”
She sucked in a breath when I bent and tongued her wet heat.
I did not care that our releases mingled. It made the flavor that much sweeter. I licked a stripe over her skin, sucking in my own release along with hers. The sharp flavor filled me with a sense of euphoria I had only ever experienced on the battlefield when I was ripping through demons.
The same feeling drove me to lick her faster, harder. It was a need. A craving. My tongue sucked every bit of release and blood from her skin, making her writhe beneath me. Her arousal was a sharp scent in my nose and moments later, I tasted that too.
My tongue slid into her channel and she cried out, slapping her hands down against my horns as she curled under me, meeting my eager mouth with mewls and thrusts of her hips.
I growled against her. The sensation of her tugging at my horns, even the broken one, felt far too good. I feared I could not stop, even if I wanted to.
I devoured her like she was my last meal in this world. Like I would die if I could not have her. Like I was starving, famished. Like I would simply vanish without another taste.
I needed her. My wife, my wife. Mine.
My hips began to move, searching for her body, even while I knew I was tongue-deep inside her already, my cock needed her. Another taste, another joining.
I growled, ripping away from her body and staring down at her. A feral urge gripped me, one I could not control. A rut overtaking my senses, but I did not care. I did not want to think clearly. I wanted nothing more than to lose myself within her again and again and again.
“Wife.” My moan echoed loudly in our chambers. “Sate me.”
“Yes.”
Before the word was even out of her lips, I was sheathed within her, howling at the ceiling. Her tight body welcomed me home where I belonged, and then I knew nothing but the sensation of her tightness wrapped around me, and how good she felt as I moved in and out.
I memorized every gasp, swallowing them all with my mouth. My hands framed her body, the figure of her softness imprinted against my skin.
She was mine, and I refused to let her go.
I roared my release, and she followed after me.
But even as liquid shot from my cock, I pounded into her again and again and again, unable to stop or hold back.
She was mine, and I needed her body to wear my scent.
I needed her to smell like me. I needed my essence inside her.
I needed to mark her, so that the world may know that she had chosen me. That I had a wife now.
And she would be mine forever.
I did not know how long it lasted, but by the time the haze in my mind abated, our entire den was covered in our mating scents. My wife was sprawled beneath me, eyes hazy, body languid and unmoving, save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
Her eyelids fluttered.
“Sleep now,” I ordered, and she obeyed. My cock wept as I moved against her. She mumbled in her sleep, arms reaching for me as I fucked her through another release while she slept and dreamt of me, of us. And when I reached my release, I did it again.
I was a beast that could not stop, so I did not.
I fucked her so she would feel me when she awoke and know that I was the only male she had ever let between her thighs and there would never be another.
I was hers.
And she was mine.
Forever.
She slept for hours, but energy fizzled through my body that needed to be unleashed, something I could not describe. It buzzed beneath my skin, this restlessness. It was like before I went to battle, the buzzing the need to do something.
So I cleaned our den. And when she did not wake, I wiped her body down, even though she still smelled of me after. I sorted through garments, pulling out a long dress that I wondered if she would enjoy.
Then I picked up her device. The delicate metal felt fragile in my hand.
She treasured this, and I vowed I would find her more.
Curiosity made me fiddle with it. After watching her use it for days, I knew what buttons to press.
It came on and I searched through the images she had captured on it.
Several of our den, several of me. Many of the landscape.
There were hundreds of images on here that she had taken since the moment I brought her to the Underworld.
I passed those and found images of the human world and of Carlota.
I stopped on a picture of her, staring. There was no stirring in my chest like I had had when I first laid eyes on that woman.
In fact, there was nothing. No sentiment. But when I looked up at Lucero sleeping peacefully… My chest constricted and that buzzing continued.
I did not know what to make of that, so I pushed it aside and walked to where she lay. I mimicked her movements, lifting the device and clicking away at a button, over and over again until the device let loose a noise and the screen went black.
Afraid I had broken it, I dove into the nest, nudging Lucero until she stirred awake in a lazy manner, wiping at her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I handed the device to her and she took it in her palms. “I fear I have broken your toy.”
She chuckled. “It’s not a toy.” Then she looked over it, inspecting it. “And it’s not broken. The battery died. I’m surprised it lasted this long, actually.”
“So it is not broken?”
“No. I just need to charge it.”
My shoulders slumped and relief coursed through me. Our union had a difficult start, and I did not want to add to any lingering contempt by harming the things she deeply valued.