Chapter 47 #3
She gasped excitedly, pulling back to smile down at him, her eyes level with his since he was holding her up. “Are we about to have make up sex?”
“Make up sex?” He threw back his head and laughed. “A wonderful term for it. Yes. Let us make up for our harsh words and celebrate our victory with glorious sex.”
She laughed, running her fingers through his hair, her gaze transfixed by the way that they changed color to match her skin with her touch. “Our victory? We both won that argument?”
“Any disagreement we rise from with a deeper understanding and appreciation of each other and our views is a victory for both of us. Of course,” he grinned playfully, “if you are... are proven right tomorrow, I shall allow you to conquer me to celebrate your personal victory in whatever way you desire.”
“Ooh, carte blanche,” she giggled wickedly, using words he didn't understand, but her expression promised naughty, torturous fun for him. “What happens if you're right? I mean, I know you're not, but indulge me?”
He grinned, knowing what she was doing. Giving him this beneficial doubt to make a point about him giving it to her in return.
“If I’m proven right-” he broke off on a groan as she wiggled her delightful little bottom, wrapping her legs around his waist and resting herself comfortably upon him. He happily adjusted his grip to grab twin handfuls of her soft, round ass and give her a better seat.
“Are you going to torment me with your personal victory?” She sounded positively delighted at the prospect.
He pretended to think for a moment before grunting in the negative. “No. I think not. If I am proven right, I will take hours to worship your body and lavish all my love and adoration upon you to prove that, no matter what, I will love you and the pup you carry.”
Unprepared for the declaration, Peony looked stunned before her entire expression softened and warmed.
“One more question, vi Peony,” he said, his body aching to claim his female.
“Just the one?”
“For now. It is not safe for all species, so I have to know: is it safe for whelping human females to take their male's cock in their cunts?”
She shivered with desire at his words. “We've been doing it for weeks – tendays – already.”
“That is not a reassurance to me, Peony,” he pleaded, his voice rough with longing. “Tell me that I cannot hurt our pup inside you, or I will not...”
Peony smiled sweetly, tormenting him with her silence as she leaned in and pressed a tender, almost chaste kiss to his lips. Once. Twice. Holding his cheeks. Keeping him hovering just on the edge of his willpower with her sweetness.
But he had to know he couldn't hurt her or their pup.
Some species females closed their cunt and couldn't be penetrated again until after the birth.
Some females just did not feel desire until after the birth.
Even others would react with violence if their mate attempted to claim them again because their womb was vulnerable to blunt trauma.
Domini females did not have any of those restrictions, but he needed to hear her say that humans didn't either.
Peony took her time, however. Kissing him slowly. Nipping at the corner of his mouth. Sucking on his lower lip. Pulling a growl up from the depths of his chest that made her laugh before she finally took pity on him.
Leaning back a bit, she pushed away some of the hair that she had mussed so she could look him right in the eye as she said-
“You cannot hurt the baby by having sex with m-Eee!”
She cut off on a squeal that turned into a laugh as he threw her back onto the bed. She hadn't even finished bouncing before he pounced, covering her body as he claimed her mouth in a proper, rough, and deeply needy kiss.
The desperate edge brought about by the fight and separation made it somehow bittersweet.
It was a heightened passion, but it could only come about by pain.
It almost made it not worth it. But the frantic heat they built with each kiss, each touch, each ripped and discarded scrap of clothing, burned away the memory of that pain.
Atem had been a father to Temnavi for seven years, but he had never been there for the pup’s infancy or his mother's pregnancy. That was his only defense for why he had left Peony – inexperience – but it was a weak excuse, especially when Donivi had just warned him not to abandon her.
He would never again. He couldn't promise Peony that he wouldn't leave her sometimes while she whelped, but he would minimize the distance between them. Whenever he left, he would be sure to provide her something with his scent to keep her calm.
For now, he lifted his lips from hers and cradled the back of her head, bringing it to his neck.
She began to kiss and suck, thinking he wanted her attention to that skin.
But it wasn't until she breathed once, quickly, then again much more deeply, greedily gulping his scent and he felt a shudder of relief going through her body that he smirked with pleasure.
His Peony craved him desperately right now. This special interaction that could be enjoyed at no other time in their mating was one he would have missed if she never carried. This reliance she had on him and the satisfaction meeting that need brought him were unique to whelping.
And made his entire being burn with longing to join with her. To really saturate her in his scent and to bathe in her own in return.
She was just as eager for him – biting and licking at his neck, shoulder, and pectoral as he pushed her legs apart and angled her hips up, giving himself a better grip and position to thrust suddenly into her, hard and fast and unapologetic.
Her back arched up, her tiny claws clutching desperately at the fur beneath her. He was transfixed by the flushing of her skin – a camouflage that hid nothing and, in fact, revealed so much about her emotions.
Slowly, in direct contrast with the speed and ferocity that he entered her, he slid out again.
She trembled, her feet struggling to find purchase on the edge of the bed so she could help hold up her own pelvis.
He grinned, letting his claws extend just enough to scratch her skin.
She jumped, surprised by the tiny prick of pain.
But he slammed home again, distracting her from it, yanking a cry from her throat.
He tortured her for a time. Pulling out with excruciating slowness, no matter how she struggled to make him move faster, only to pound into her with a quick, hard thrust and a jerk on her hips.
The angle he held her pelvis kept her from pushing back against him and the alternating slow pull out and ruthless return with no warning or discernible pattern made her wild with need.
But that's exactly what he loved seeing in his Peony.
When she was like this, driven to the very edge of her tolerance, his sweet water eyes, his precious female, showed the aggression and fire that made her a vora vakara.
“Fuck me already, you asshole!” She yelled, raking her nails down his arms, sending tiny streams of burning pain along his flesh that only tickled his desire as she bucked up against him.
He chuckled, earning a snarl of fury that made him growl in return.
He grabbed her legs and shoved them up, pushing her knees near her shoulders. She gasped, surprised to suddenly find herself folded in half. But her eyes burned with excitement and desire as he proceeded to pound into her with a desperate passion.
Wet, slapping sounds punctuated her moans and his animalistic grunts. His knot began to swell as his sac tightened. He set one of her legs against his shoulder, freeing up his hand so he could reach between them and play with her little clit.
She screamed so delightfully, her entire body tightened like a wound cable. The muscles of her cunt clamped down on him like they were trying to help his knot lock him in place. Then they fluttered, milking him to bring forth his seed.
He obliged with a roar of relief, his cock and balls throbbing as he drained himself inside her. Her eyes were wide, her mouth half open, as she trembled beneath him.
Growling, he yanked himself free, spraying his seed across their furs. Unconcerned about the mess they made, he grabbed her legs, flipped her over, yanked her up by the hips and slammed home again. She keened loudly, her body still not recovered from her previous orgasm.
He took her by the shoulder with one hand, held her by the hip with the other, and drove into her with bruising force that brought her to another climax, then another after that before his sac had replenished enough to grant him the same ecstasy.
His Peony was gasping and panting by then, her beautiful body shining with sweat, her eyes unfocused, her skin flushed a beautiful, bright red.
He snarled, grabbing her arms and yanking them back, using them as reins to keep her body upright and to pull her onto him as he began thrusting again. She was near delirious with pleasure, but she wasn't begging him to stop yet, so he wouldn't.
“I am not done with you, vi Seerin,” he said like a threat, his tail flicking at her clit now.
She moaned weakly as her body bounced with the force of his thrusts.
But she took him. For half a mark more, she took him.
And it wasn't her mouth that begged him to stop.
Her cunt, spasming and exhausted, had practically closed to him, preventing him not only from moving, but from pulling out of her entirely.
His was technically a pseudoknot, but he had still somehow fully knotted his female through her pleasure, and he could not pull free.
Proud, he lay them back on the bed, cradling her to his chest, both his arms crossed over her, keeping her firmly in place, their bodies locked together as his tail continued to slowly, languidly, rub along her clit making her whimper and shake from the overstimulation.
He kissed the side of her head.
“Sleep, vi Peony. My sweet love.”