Chapter 17 #2
The raunchy click of cartilage. An increasingly wet squish of her throat working to take him.
His thrusts were shallow, at first.
Hesitant.
Until they grew greedy. His muscles unlocking as he began to fuck her face.
"Depraved, filthy creature," he snarled, tail lashing against the current.
The Siren moaned.
Like she knew.
Like she wanted to send a ripple of sound straight through his shaft.
Snarling, both hands wrapped in her hair, Thalos held her in place. Driving himself into her throat. Deeper. Messy. Deliriously selfish.
Because Virelii didn't do this.
But Kore's tongue worked his shaft, and her hands pumped in perfect synch with his driving thrusts.
"You… you are obscene," Thalos gasped, shuddering. Fins flared wide as pressure began to build. As his balls flexed, growing tight. "W-Wretched, perfect little monster," he groaned, unable to stop his hips from tilting forward.
And when her throat gripped him, squeezing… milking, another impulse took him.
Instinct.
To breed.
Muscle bunching at the corner of his jaw, Thalos clenched his teeth.
Rhythm stuttering, he faltered. Battling two opposing drives. To spill down her throat, while they were alone. Hidden. Unwitnessed. Or haul her up. Impale her as deep as he might, and pump her full of his seed. Make her bulge, her belly swollen with his claim on her womb.
The Siren’s fingers tightened where they cradled his balls.
Rolling.
With a snarl, he yanked her up.
Off.
Violent and graceless, his cock slid free of her throat with a grotesque slurp. Strings of over-eager slime connecting them, just for a moment. His pre-cum, clinging to her puffy lips.
The little bitch had the audacity to smile, then. Gills flaring, panting as she fought for equilibrium, unbalanced in the current.
He refused her even that.
Ruled by instinct deeper than law, more true than doctrine, Thalos seized her thighs. Those wretched, foreign limbs. Grotesque the way they parted for him. So alien to the glory of Virelii, with their sleek bodies and elegant length.
Kore’s spine ended at the hip. In the place of a tail, there were long bones. Sharp angles. Halves instead of a whole.
Heinous, vile creature.
His cock throbbed. Trying to burrow. Seeking slick heat. Adjusting his grip, he dragged her closer. Wider. Thrumming deep in the barrel of his chest when his blunt crown nosed through her folds. Catching at her rim. Where she was hot with translucent arousal.
“I should make you beg,” he snarled, but couldn’t peel his glacial scowl away from her cunt. Watching the pale stretch. The way her glossy petals grew taut. Plump and flushed to thin, pale coral pink.
The head popped inside, and driven by a shameful, animal instinct, he speared forward.
A single, brutal thrust, and he was buried. To the root.
Pleasure.
It rippled through him. Lifting his scales. A vicious, all-consuming force that annihilated everything else.
His cock slithered in deep. Snaking through tender flesh until it bumped the mouth of her womb. Trying to latch.
But it was already too late.
His release swept through him. A wave of pulsing heat.
Balls flexing, lifting tight where they were mashed between her legs as the first violent spurt splashed against her womb.
Shamed by a half-formed thing.
Helpless but to pump thick ropes of seed into the depths of clenching heat. Each kick of his shaft drove another jet of cum against her womb.
Gasping, lips tracing her gills, his hips jerking in ragged, shallow thrusts, he used her. Rode out the wave of his release, emptied his balls, and dumped decades of frustration into her body.
A Siren.
Staining her.
He’d marked her.
It was a revelation. One he made while her cunt milked him in long, greedy pulls—he’d done precisely what Nyxarion had done. Claimed this beguiling creature in the way of trench filth.
Graceless. Desperate.
Furious, Thalos snarled.
Reduced to little more than a rutting beast, he submitted to an impulse that only made his fury shine all the brighter.
Teeth sinking into virgin flesh, he bit into the flesh between her shoulder and jaw.
Opposite to the side where Nyxarion’s mark sat.
The crunch of breaking skin sent a violent thrill through his cock, venom glands contracting.
Sending a flood of venom into her system.
Flooding the wound with a wash of icy frost.
The creature sobbed.
Dainty fingers clinging to his edges.
Milking him. Grotesque legs splayed around his hips.
With a snarl, Thalos fucked into her.
Hips driving through the mess.
Still thick, swollen and aching, despite the volume gushing into her soiled little cunt.
Drunk on the ecstasy.
Claws kneading the back of her thighs, he moved her over his girth.
The very act itself was grotesque. Heretical.
But then she moved. Arching in to meet his rabid thrusts. Stroke for stroke, cunt swallowing his cock like the greedy little thing she really was. Her gills fluttered in a desperate rhythm as he worked her.
It forced him to double down. Instinct seized his brainstem in a grip more rigid than the one leaving dimples on her ass.
His secondary venom glands pulsed. Flooding her with more. Enough to drown her in it. To overpower Nyxarion’s claim.
Only then did he pull back. Watching the blood ooze from her nape, twisting through the current as he rutted into her. Admiring the hint of venom spiraling through her veins.
Her head tipped back.
Pupils dilating, yawning wide as her lips parted around a beautiful sound.
He caught the back of her neck, forcing her chin to tip. So he might watch the vacant, hollow glass in her eyes as his venom worked through her.
“That’s it,” he snarled, pumping her. “All of it. Just like that.”
It was as if he were alone.
Free to use her body without the consequences of shame.
So he looked.
Indulged.
Manic, as if utterly unable to stop.
Cock gleaming where it pistoned in the dim current, pearls popping through the rim of that lewd, glitening ring, she gripped him. Cunt clinging as he made to turn her inside out.
So small.
Her body dainty where he was not.
It was the contrast. The image of the strain, her struggle to accommodate his girth. The lips of her pussy stretched bloodless, taut.
And just there, beneath the dip of her navel…
The bulge of his cock.
Moving behind the wall of her abdomen. Flat now, until he pumped her full and forced his seed into that chalice.
Hips rolling, the Siren cried out. Seeking friction, demanding. Taking every brutal inch.
Balls growing tight, filling with renewed volume despite what was leaking from her soiled depths, Thalos felt it rise anew.
Thumb pressed into the hollow at the base of her throat, he bullied his way back inside.
Stuffing her full.
One leg draped over his hip, the other dangling free, he filled her.
Left her empty.
Only to surge back inside.
Watching his venom spread through her veins.
And then he felt it.
The shift.
A distant change in the pressure. Multiple bodies cutting through the current, moving toward this secret, shameful moment he’d carved for himself.
And there, beneath it all, a something deeper. A subsonic rage.
Nyxarion.
The Abyssari king was coming for his little bride.
For him.
Thalos grinned.
His hips worked her tight little cunt.
Merciless.
Greedy.
Harder.
It was annihilation.
The grip of her sheath was a silken, forbidden fist that dragged him deeper with each thrust. Made him thirst for more.
Body arching, Kore moaned, gills pulsing with the same shade of violet in his own venom. Because he was in her blood, now.
His hand slipped between them.
Silver fingers spreading across her belly, just to feel the obscene bulge. Where the head of his cock worked to distort the shape of her belly.
Claiming what was inside.
And then this thumb… drifted.
Landed on the swollen bud nestled between those stretched lips of her cunt.
To make her clench, of course.
To feel those velvet inner walls squeeze. Milking him.
It was strategic. Selfish. Nothing at all to do with the way her pupils had ballooned, yawning wide enough to swallow that pretty ring of color. Absolutely not the way her lips parted and her brow furrowed when he worked that little pearl.
No.
This was biological.
Breeding.
A function of winning the Chain of Breath.
His right.
He circled her clit at the base.
Clenching with a vicious force, she made a sound.
A keening wail, high at the back of her throat.
It was music.
Pure, unfiltered Siren.
A beacon.
One she’d just broadcast to the entire Black Sea and every Pelagorn within it.
Her body convulsed, climax detonating. And through her veins, a visible wave of violet flames. The Queen’s Lightning surging to life as her thighs—her gruesome, heinous legs—locked tight around his waist.
Helplessly entranced, Thalos followed her and did not blink. Pumping a second load of royal sperm inside her, unable to tear his eyes from the spectacle of this creature.
This glorious, wretched creature.