Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Another segment popped past my stretched slit, my breath hitching as I felt him snake his tip further than any plug might be. It was then I realized, Cyderial was not entering the channel where he filled me to satiate my addiction.
He was penetrating me somewhere entirely new.
Grunting, he panted from the effort not to shove deep. “The plug stays. You’ll need your fluids to make the slick required to ease me through the passage where I am needed.”
That night on his office floor, he had moved his cock into so many parts of my belly, stroking himself and puffing me up with his fluids. It had felt so similar to this, so unyielding.
How many hours had it taken him to do whatever he had done to push his sperm into so many different channels? Much of the memory was cloudy, intercourse since different.
This was not regular sex. His worming dick was working to help me, squirming through a dripping passage that opened specifically for estrous.
I could be plugged, fucked, and seeded all at the same time.
But I had no idea how to make the room.
It was impossible to relax, my body straining as it was, but I abandoned his ass to stroke my belly between us as he had done that night. Finding his cock bloated up by my swollen internal pocket, I stroked him through my flesh—through layers of muscle and unknown reproductive organs—and was rewarded with a deep moan from the male as he gained another inch.
That cock within me dared stretch long under my hand, his girth lessening as his spear dug somewhere new.
Slick squirted from me in a wave that left me swearing.
Another segment worked past my swollen lower lips.
Retracting his cock, he grew fat again, girthy to stretch me until I was wriggling from discomfort and climaxing all at once.
But it wasn’t a true climax. Another half-lived release brought only more sensation and greater building pleasure in the pain.
I could die this way, unsatiated and ripped in half where tender tissues would only allow him to travel so far.
Fervently, I rubbed my belly atop where his cock undulated inside my body, desperate for more.
Hissing, he took my ear between his teeth and bit the lobe hard enough to draw blood. When I cried out, he bit my throat, working a bleeding line down to where shoulder met neck. Warning me to stop or there would be greater pain.
But pain did something to the pleasure. It untwisted my guts; it opened me.
It was salvation.
When his teeth punched through flesh and muscle at my shoulder, his body arced over me and pressing forward, broke apart.
There was a stretching, pulverized part of me that finally let him in, several rings of tight muscles enclosing his cock, sucking him deep, and leaving me jerking uncontrollably under his weight.
With no concept of what part of me he had gained access to, I felt the plug still tight, felt the sloshing contents of my belly. And joined his dance while white stole my vision.
Growling where his teeth locked tight, he held my hip, and his pelvis pushed into the cradle of mine.
Fully seated, the perfect invasion.
I could not say my body welcomed it. It was essential to my survival yet invasive as he began to knot before my pleasure might break.
Orgasm left him violent, his cock battering against whatever it would, leaving behind an ache while also scratching an itch.
The knot strained the bones of my pelvis, the feel of my body trying to push it out contradictory to my need to have him deeper. But there was no more room.
Until my body gave way and made it.
Explosive contractions in my belly sent my nerves to sing, and finally terrible sensation peaked.
I came with a sob, still bleeding into his mouth, opening internally in ways I could not begin to fathom.
Perfection.
He flooded this open passage with that syrupy offering he left on my tongue. Thick and heady, his fluids eased the sting, softened a part of me that would not have been receptive to my child without his help.
Clinging to him, I welcomed it all, the madness ebbing just enough for me to press a kiss to his hair. Grateful he had not released my shoulder, hoping his extended bite would scar as my body knit around the wounds.
It was then I knew this was right. Full of the panting male, aching, in pain, and somehow feeling complete, I knew he was right for me.
My mate whom I was thoroughly addicted to. Who belonged inside me no matter the means he had found his way there.
I would have to forgive him.
I would have to admit to myself it was more than fondness for the male.
Despite everything.
We were one.
He was worthy.
Sighing against his hair, happy to receive all he might pour into me, I knew relief. With a smile, I purred, “Thank you.”