Chapter 19
The pain struck him first.
Everywhere all at once. Searing hot, it was a living thing both desperate and ravenous. It feasted on flaking scales, charred skin, and eyes singed by the cruel glare of the sun. Every contour and curve. Every delicate filament and gossamer fin.
His was to be a brutal death.
And then his awareness sharpened.
Warm. Wet. Hot.
She was there.
His human bride.
On her knees, tangled hair falling around his hips in lank clumps as she licked and kissed and sucked.
Sucking.
She moaned, his little slut. Making a vacuum where her lips were sealed around the ridged flare of his cock, she drew up a throbbing, molten pulse of cum.
And then her fingers moved.
Not the ones wrapped around his girth—through those were busy pumping another dollop of cream onto her greedy little tongue.
No, she was inside his vent. It was invasive, so desperately, incredibly wrong to feel a tiny human hand buried to the wrist inside his slit.
Pumping his cock at the base, where his girth was still hidden in that protective pocket.
She kneaded what had not yet fully emerged, where his knot ached to balloon inside her tiny human pussy and lock her in place as he bred her full of his spawn.
Ravaged gills flared, dragging pure, blistering air into his soggy lungs.
“Mmmm,” she hummed, fingers pumping him inside and out. “Thank the gods. You’re awake. Alive.” Pupils luminous despite the harsh glare of the sun gleamed up at him as she dropped her mouth back to his prick. Wet heat enveloped him. Sucking, blinding heat.
Her tongue curled beneath the flare of his helm, tracing the ridged seam of flesh—almost enough to draw his pearls out. To make them bulge and throb where they lay dormant in the ridges of his shaft.
Throat clicking, he swallowed. Vision tunneling as he stared at Kore and watched her work. Nursing on his cock.
Instinct seized him, then.
Despite the agony, his body locked, every nerve snapping taut. Fins flaring, his spines flicked up. A defensive posture outside of his control, one meant to stabilize him in the current, to posture and warn that he was the most deadly thing in the sea. Venomous. Powerful.
Deadly.
Slippery fingers found the heavy globes of his balls, where they were hidden inside. Concealed and protected by muscle and scale.
Nyx uttered a defensive snarl, even as another molten gush of seed gurgled up to fill her mouth. Gills flaring in the dry air issued a low, helpless groan beneath the rush of sensation. Sending blood rushing through his skull, pounding against the delicate membranes meant for the deep.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink.
He could only watch as human lips slid lower, forcing him past that tight ring of muscle at the back of her slender throat with a series of obscene clicks.
And then she swallowed.
Pressure built in his slit, and guided by dainty human hands working inside his vent, his sack burst into the cruel sunlight. Coaxed by human touch. Heavy, despite being so recently emptied, his balls had grown swollen and ripe. Skin pulled taut. Shiny with the volume sloshing inside.
And then she pulled back, letting his cock slither free. Bumping over every ridge of her throat, every ring of cartilage felt at the base of his spine.
A string of pre-cum mixed with the dew of her saliva—he blinked.
Beautiful.
The most hypnotic sight he’d ever seen.
More. He needed more.
Without being told, she obliged. Lips stretching, she worked her mouth down. Teeth scraping, tongue worming, she inched him toward the back of her throat, and back. Miming what he needed to climax, slippery drool spilled and globbed at the tight seal of lips on cock.
Sharp, glorious sensation burst behind his eyes. Pain and pleasure blended in a furious swirl that saw the trident react, humming with the thirst for war where it had been forgotten in the sand.
But Nyx couldn’t look away.
Cock throbbing, his tail twitched, spines fanning against sand.
Testing the limits of his scorched and blistered hide.
Need—a deep, visceral thing—pulsed in his veins.
The primal urge to drag her into the surf, shove inside that tiny human slit, and knot her placid as he made her bulge with enough seed to keep her breeding for him.
But he was too weak.
Too damaged for the sport of breeding her for entertainment, this was survival. Cold, calculated, selfish.
Hips jerking, the flat of his tail fin slapped the sand. It was a motion that sent another bolt of pain rippling through him, but drove his prick toward the back of her throat. Begging to be sheathed in that tight glove of pleasure.
A moan spattered over his length as he flexed and pumped a gush of brine over her palate. Pulling back just enough to coat her tongue in a thick glob of sperm.
“Gods,” she whispered, her breath misting over his throbbing tip.
Voice ragged and low, her pupils massive disks of flat black.
She glanced up at him, tiny fingers traveling over his length.
Hands too small to circle his girth, but still, she worked him.
“That’s it,” she murmured, shuffling closer on her knees.
Belly too swollen for anything approaching grace. “More. Give it to me, beast.”
It tore a rumble from his chest. Weak. A subsonic purr she couldn’t hear, for it was beyond her frail human senses. Still, another slick pulse of cum leaked out to feed his bride.
She suckled at his tip, tongue darting out to lap up the slime before Kore took him deeper once more. Groaning. Sending a vibration of her own down his shaft.
Stars burst behind his eyes. Tail flexing, spines flaring a warning that went unheeded when she fucked her own throat, bobbing and slurping over his cock.
Hissing, Nyx tensed with the surge boiling inside.
A roar exploded from his throat. Unexpected, savage, his hand shot forward. Clawed fingers tangled in her hair, anchoring at the base of her skull.
He shoved.
Burying his cock down her throat in one vicious thrust, he sheathed himself in all that was welcoming and wet. Warm.
A tiny sound escaped her then, muffled. Surprised discomfort when he anchored her in place and let his cock explore her throat.
But she didn’t struggle.
Remade to take, her body tensed for an instant. She gagged, eyes watering as she looked at him, blinked, then yielded. Swallowing to milk his shaft.
That was all it took.
His hips snapped, back arching as he came. Cum erupted from him in thick, viscous waves. Each pulse gurgling from heavy balls that flexed with the effort to fill her belly. Cock buried deep enough that she couldn’t taste her meal, he spent himself down her throat.
And then, claws gentling as he emptied his balls, he groomed the tangles of matted hair. Rewarding Kore for taking every gulp.
When it was done, he didn’t release her. Wasn’t quite ready to give up the soft seal of her lips, nor the silken grip of the windpipe that took him so well.
He dragged her back with deliberate control. Letting her lips snag over his bulging pearls as he pulled free.
A soft gasp spilled from her wrecked throat, lips puffy with vigor. Spit and sperm dribbled from a slack jaw, wetting her chin and chest.
And, eyes wide—luminous—she started back at him with something approaching awe.
Mine.
The trident hummed, thrumming with ominous heat. Starving for the battle. Ready to stake a claim that could not be unwritten until the seas ran dry.
Nyx frowned, tearing his eyes from Kore’s to glance at the ancient weapon.
It was an artifact of war.
A symbol of conquest.
That it reacted to her was… fitting.
Prophetic.
Wrapping one hand around her throat, Nyx shook her. Gentle. Firm. His fingers ringed her skinny neck, claws clicking at her nape. Forging a collar of unspoken threat. It was a command written in flesh dimpled by claws, just enough to make her listen to what went unsaid.
He dragged her closer, up past his retreating cock. Over the flat plane of his belly, until she was draped snug over his chest. Blinking down at him with wide, shocked eyes.
And then, with his free hand, he cupped her belly.
Where she was swollen. Full. Heavy and bloated with his seed. Filled from both ends.
He let his claws score that shiny skin, flexing with a possessive snarl and an unblinking glare.
A warning.
Keep it.
Claws flexing, spreading wide across the curve of a belly that would soon be ripe with life, he let a rumble jiggle her marrow with pure, unfiltered menace.
Uttering a tiny kiss of the Resonance, he purred for her. Just a little. For half a breath before it stuttered and stopped.
But she heard him anyway.
Understood just how deeply he wanted to drag her into the surf. Breed her until water filled her lungs. Until she was his, forever.
The effort to indulge his temper—to go to battle with the Thalassari king? It had depleted the last of his reserves. Nyx released her, allowing her to pull away.
For a long moment, there was only the rasp of harsh breaths and the rush of the sea calling him back.
And then, “Go,” she whispered, not daring to move. The single syllable hitching in her ravaged throat. Cunt glistening, swollen and wet, left needy and ripe. But still, she dared to command him. “Go back,” she said again. “Before you die and leave me here to rot.”
He was burning.
Flayed by the sun. Poisoned by the surface. Every inch of him blistered. Gills savaged and dripping, scales flaking from his body in glinting, iridescent ribbons—armor peeling from meat.
He should have waited.
Recovered.
He’d ascended in a rage to punish his bride—and instead… she’d stitched him back together.
Rumbling, he seized the trident and turned to obey.
Tail dragging behind him, bunching and shifting as he struggled back to the surf and carved a trench in the sand.
The trident was too heavy to lift, too sacred to abandon.
His chest heaved with effort, gills flapping open in desperate need as he worked deeper.
Every inch gained was easier. Weightless. Welcoming. The tide embraced him. Lapping at his wounds with the promise of salvation.
Nyx turned, just once, at the edge of the sea.
She was watching.
Hair tangled and wild. Lips red, swollen, glistening with him. Her belly—heavy and round—was marked where he’d touched her so much deeper than she could possibly know.
His command echoed in the wind between them.
Don’t spill a drop.
Nyxarion let the trident fall, the weight of it dragging him down when he collapsed forward into the surf and vanished beneath the waves in a flick of seafoam and shadow.
The sea enveloped him. A desperate embrace that sank into every blister. Sloughing flaking scales away as he descended, and left a trail of glittering gore twirling through the current.
Ribs aching with the twist of his spine, gills fluttering with the blissful burn of salt.
Yawning wide beneath him, the trench emerged from the dark.
He let it swallow him. Let it hurt.
The trident dragged him down, allowing him to conserve his energy as he sank through the anoxic layers, through the burning acid where nothing could thrive.
And when he was close enough to see the hint of his reef glowing below, he let the trident slip from his fingers. Watched it crash into the seabed, thinking not of rutting or claiming his bride, nor the slow extinction of the Abyssari who had exiled him.
Fins flaring to slow his descent, Nyx’s body was a ruin. Too weak to answer when the coral polyps reached out in silent greeting that went unanswered.
No, for the first time in eons, he wasn’t thinking of war. Or vengeance. He thought only of a soft slip of a girl. A human who’d taken him into her throat and begged him to go, if only so he might return.
Kore.
His living flame.
His vessel.
A girl who knelt in the spume with his cock in her mouth and hands on her swollen belly, promising not to spill a drop.
He grinned.
Aroused beyond his wildest fantasies. Enthralled, because she might just live long enough to rule the Black Sea at his side…