My pulse whooshes deafeningly in my skull as Fafnir rides over the hill, atop an unfamiliar mount. The sight of him both churns my stomach and lights it with a tense, throbbing kind of want. His dark eyes are more crimson than brown, but I don’t mind either color, so long as they stay locked on me. He dismounts in one fluid motion, and for the first time, I drag my eyes from his. My lips parting as the state of him truly sinks in.
Fafnir’s hands are coated in blood, no longer tanned but a deep blue tinged crimson, up to his elbows before it tapers off. His strong jaw splattered, but it’s what’s draped around his neck that rips a ragged gasp from my throat. Like a blanket of roses draped around the neck of a horse… are spines. Not one, but many. Involuntarily, I take a step back, apprehension fleeting as I knock into the wall of Valoryrx. The beast of a mount knocks me forward toward his rider, making me stumble.
Fafnir’s eyes are heated, promising as he stares down at me, the lines of the antler and shield brand on his chest traced in blood. It’s only then that I see the wounds. There aren’t many, but they are deep. My eyes snap wide as I rush to him when he dismounts, sending the mount off. My hands hover frantically over his chest, unsure where to touch. There’s not much of it, not coated or splattered in gore, but whom the visceral belongs to is barely enough to stay my hands. “You’re hurt.”
I yelp as he drags the spines off his shoulders, the rattling sound they make nearly upturning my stomach as he tosses them over a nearby rung on the roof of his house. Not a trophy, but a warning. “Inside female.” He growls, and God help me, I whimper.
Faf doesn’t let me turn around, he herds me. Stalking closer and forcing me into the doorway before he reaches around, throwing it open and letting me stumble into the house. Immediately, the heat from the hearth hits me. I hadn’t realized that at some point I’d stopped feeling so cold. He keeps advancing until the backs of my thighs meet the hearth’s high stone wall, forcing me to sit. My head level with the throbbing, tented slight of his cocks. I’m staring, so close I can feel the heat of them. I can smell the coppery smattering of blood. Odd, how it can look so different but smell the same. When he leans forward, his long hair curtains around us. His chest heaving as his bloodied hand grips my chin, steering my attentions from his cocks to him. “I will have you, Lenora.”
The sound of my name on his tongue does insane things to my insides, the odd off-kilter way he says it with his resonant rolled R’s. He’s not asking permission. He doesn’t need it. I’m thrumming, the space between my thighs soaked as he takes the slightest step back, pulling me to a stand by my jaw. The hands that touch me are both brutal and soft. His fingers dig in, making my flesh ache in the most pleasant way. My body is flush with his muscular, equestrian legs, their fur mottled with blood but soft. The color warm, dark gray, dotted with slightly lighter patches along the sides. I follow the line of his V where fur is tapered into flesh, my hands trembling as I brace them there, my heart beating at an unsteady sprint.
Fafnir growls as he hauls me up, turning us until my back meets one of the wooden support beams of the house. I’m panting, my head light and breath rapid as he holds me there at his height. Supporting me with nothing more than a single hand, but falling is far from my thoughts as he rips my animal hide pants like they’re made of paper, baring my soaked underwear to him. I’m hiked higher, my top bunching up my back, revealing my stomach. His eyes focus there for only a minute before he shoves me up again, hooking my legs on his broad shoulders. The deep primal way he inhales me makes me see stars, flush rushing down my neck and spilling onto my heaving breasts. He doesn’t waste time, not a second of it, when he descends on me. I cry out as he rips the fabric covering my center with his teeth, his mouth covering the needy pulse of my clit as he sucks, hard. There are no soft kisses or gentle lapping; he devours, feasts like he’s starved. My guttural moans echo off the vaulted ceilings and high rafters as he forces his thick tongue deep into my center, fucking me with it. My arms that had been braced on my own thighs snap out, gripping his horns as I grind into his mouth. My body jerking and thrusting in a way that’s not so delicate and not so pretty, but I don’t think this beast of a male expects me to be.
Tears fill my eyes as my body goes taut, his tongue curling upward and flicking the rough part of me deep inside. Suddenly, so suddenly, I’m still. “Yes, yes, yes right there, Faf please!” I whimper, the sound of my voice as desperate for something as I’ve ever heard it. His eyes roll up to meet mine, a scream ripping from my throat as he sucks harder, his teeth adding the slightest pain to the pleasure and I erupt. My orgasm sends me reeling, my body jerking against his mouth, my knuckles white on his horns, and I ride out each wave. He doesn’t rush me, doesn’t look away, doesn’t blink. He’s growling, and the sound reverberates through my center, making me shudder.
His hands fly up to support my back as he pulls me away from the post, lapping languidly at my pulsing core. If it wasn’t for the smear across my flesh, I would’ve entirely forgotten about the blood. We’re in the bedroom in a few quick strides, my back connecting jarringly with the soft bed as he drops me from his height. His eyes are as red as I’ve ever seen them, making a crazed little smile light my lips. He crawls over me, watching me like every bit of the predator he is. I shift up, trying to meet him, to slam my lips against his, but he’s faster. His hand strikes out, swathing my throat and pushing me into the mattress. At first, I panic at the abrupt lack of air, my hands flying out to grip his forearms, my nails digging into his flesh.
“Stay.” He seethes.
He waits, as if seeking some confirmation from me that he was heard. My head struggles to nod fully with his large hand covering my entire neck, but I must manage well enough. When he removes it, my gasp is ragged, my core soaked as I tremble against his sheets. Sheets that smell like a lovely mix of us both, despite him having insisted that only I sleep here.
Fafnir stalks to the bathroom, leaving me panting and still as stone. I listen as the water rushes on, trying my best not to count the seconds as he washes himself of gore. My head tilts, ever so slightly, watching him furiously scrub at his flesh, making quick work of it, but as he turns, red eyes meet mine. My focus only stays there for a moment before it dips to the ruddy state of his twin cocks. They aren’t quite twins, though, not really. Stacked one above the other, the first seems still… large by human standards but thinner, longer and more ridged than its lower counterpart. That one, the lower girthy one already weeping a pearlescent liquid from the tip that lets in the first tendril of fear, its… too big. He can’t expect me to take it.
I can’t. Nobody could take it.
“Female,” he growls, forcing my attention back to his face. Whatever fear I felt must’ve shown because he forgoes washing further, stalking back toward me. His warm gray hair dripping with water, looking darker, nearly a smoky color because of it. I don’t know if it’s the look in his crimson eyes, or the way he prowls toward me, towering above like a god, but I know there’s no stopping him now, no getting through to him in whatever state he’s in. I’ll take it, because he will demand it of me. For a moment, it was almost too easy to forget; this is why I’m here, to be bred by him. To be stuffed and filled with his seed again and again until it takes root.
His hands clasp over my thighs. I used to think they were so large, almost unseemly so, but they look far smaller like this as he drags me toward him. The way he studies my center only makes my flush grow as he spreads me wide. His large, thick fingers dip between my folds, spreading them. I can’t hold back my whimper as he runs a finger over my opening, stopping to gently prod and tease my clit. He must’ve done his research on human anatomy. The thought of the Oozarians providing details about our erogenous zones is far less pleasant of a thought.
“Grip me,” he orders, lowering his horns so I can grab them. I do, gasping at how hot they feel again, but this time, much more so. Like it should be blistering my palms, but it’s not. He doesn’t touch me again but uses my hold on them to drag me up to the head of the bed as he crawls onto it. When he stops, I release him, reluctantly, judging by the heat in his eyes, he likes it too. I wonder if touching them is taboo, like the Sihlih’s horns. The idea that I’m staking some claim, doing something I shouldn’t only makes me want to take them in my palms again. Fafnir bends, reaching for something below the bed while I bring my hands to my face, looking at the odd rings on my palms. As if the ridges on his horns have branded my flesh. Alarm hits me as I test my reddened palms, expecting some horrific pain but finding none. They’re just…hot. Oddly hot.
Fafnir rips my attention back to him when he shoves a thick finger into my center. I gasp, having not even noticed he’s righted himself. His mouth descends on my breasts, nipping and lapping at them while he works me. I moan, grinding down, needing more than wanting to be stretched. He’s bare, all male above me, a groan leaving his gritted teeth as his free hand leaves its place braced above my head to squeeze the base of his larger cock. Seeing him pained, in need, does wild things to my ego. I wiggle down further, trying to press myself into his cocks, showing him I want one, but he quickly stops me with a warning snarl. “Have mercy, female, I do not wish to harm you. My resolve is hanging by a thread.”
That sobers me a bit, but only enough for him to slip in another two fingers, making me wince. He stills, letting me adjust before he works them in and out. Soon enough, the pinch is forgotten, my core soaked and more than accommodating. I’m not a virgin, not by a long shot, but his fingers alone make me feel like I might as well be. He works me softly, scissoring his fingers, watching with rapt attention as I grind down against the heel of his palm. He keeps me like that, cock fisted, but his palm unmoving against the ruddy shaft as it weeps. I writhe and mewl until another orgasm rips from me, making my head light. My eyes are shut, my breath ragged, body worn and pliant when he spreads my legs wide again, wide enough to burn but not painfully. Just enough to accommodate his large frame as he settles between my legs. I don’t open my eyes, happy enough to pass into a blissful sleep and let him use me at will. Perhaps if I am unconscious, it will not be as painful.
That idea is forced from my mind as he notches his smaller cock into my entrance, the head of it pulsing against my center. “I cannot breed you with this one, but I can pleasure you.”
I nod, trying to ease my breathing. Refusing to open my eyes, but my body isn’t listening to my logical brain. I can’t possibly still be humming with desire. My core can’t possibly still be soaked and needy, but it is. I am. He slips in, meeting resistance quickly, a savage growl vibrating his chest as his hands vise on my knees. He bends, bracing himself on his forearm while he lifts my bottom, shifting me up to allow his thicker, heavier cock to slip between my ass and the bed. The heat of it makes me moan, forcing myself down on him further, my body gives before tensing again. The pinch sharper than before until his free hand finds my clit strumming it with an expert touch. My eyes open seconds before my body eases. His thumb circling my clit, his tongue teasing my pert nipple, working me into another frenzy, building an insatiable heat. He sinks to the hilt. My eyes snap closed as I cry out, his growl nearly drowned out by the desperate sound. My nails dig into his flesh before I force them to relax, falling to my sides.
I lie prone underneath him, my body spilling over with need, all the while forcing myself to remain still. It works until something hard, cold, and metal is pressed into my palm. I gasp, my head snapping toward the blaster, then back to him, meeting swirling, resolved eyes. “If they go completely red, I want you to kill me.”
I blanch, making my clit rub against his base. The wet, thicker one underneath me jerks at the sensation. “What?! No!”
My mouth gapes in horror as he snatches my wrist, jerking the blaster in my hand and slamming the barrel into his forehead. “You will not hesitate; you will aim true because if you miss, there will be nothing that will stop me from ripping your limbs from your base, and I will not survive the guilt that will plague me once I wake.”
“Fafnir—’
My words cut off as he dips his head, flicking my hand and the blaster away with a horn before his mouth descends on mine. The kiss is bruising, and I melt. My body molds to his. The blaster forgotten, his morbid, impossible request forgotten as I let myself get lost in sensation as he starts to move. My insides heat, liquid flame flicking deep in my belly as he rolls his hips, his thick lower cock wet with his own seed as it messages my tight hole. Its sensation, all pleasure, and I’m adrift in it. I don’t argue with him further. How could I when I’m putty in his expert hands? When his crimson swirling eyes are looking down at me like I’m a goddess, born in the flesh. I don’t tell him I couldn’t bear it, that I’d let him kill me before I’d raise a hand to him. Where the world has force fed him pain and violence, he will only ever receive soft things from me.
He’s treated me with such care since the start of this, it’s nearly impossible to relate that male to the one towering over me now. He groans as he pistons his cock inside me, in deep rolling thrusts. My breasts heave and bounce, taking his attention. His hands gripping my waist as he fucks me into the bed. “Look at you, such a tiny female taking my cock.” He praises. “Perfect little Valkyra.”
“Yes, I-oh god, you feel good.”
My eyes roll to the back of my head, making him growl. His hand finds its way under the back of my head, gripping my hair. Pulling it deliciously against my scalp as he forces my head up, forcing my eyes to his. “I will see your eyes when you come on my cock.” It’s an order, a demand, and I am all too willing to obey. It seems my lust and pleasure-heavy eyes are his undoing, though. He growls, his grip on the swell of my hip turns as punishing as his thrusts. He’s watching me oh so carefully, as I moan and cry out. My release hits me again and all at once, without warning. A sharp slap of pleasure jolts my mind from my body. I’m floating, sated, and yet still building as he jerks me up, flipping me so that my chest is braced against the mattress. He fucks like a beast, and I’m his willing languid prey desperate to be devoured. When he roars his own release, I cry out at the loss of his cock only for the thicker, heavier one to be forced in. The sound that leaves me is horrific, a primal guttural scream and I swear I’ve been gored, ripped wide, but it’s pumping hot, thick jets of cum. I can feel each one plastering my inner walls with an intense pressure. Another pulsing jolt of seed hits that part of me deep inside, that rough little patch I can never quite find with my own fingers. The pain is ripe, agonizing until his fingers find my clit, strumming it softly. How can something feel so good and so terrible all at once?
His voice is gruff and pained when he speaks. “Hush now, sweet Lenora, you’re perfect, so perfect. It’s just the tip, my Sha’vria. Just for a few moments more.” His words smooth over the shock. I’m pinned to the bed by him, still as stone as he works my clit. Dragging me away from the pain, mixing it again with soul binding pleasure until it’s a battering kind of sensation, raw and overwhelming. I force my face from where I’ve buried it, biting into the soft bedding to look up at him over my shoulder. My eyes widen finding his entirely red, entirely… changed. I am unsure who is staring back at me with such a claiming kind of possession. Perhaps it is the berserker, although I haven’t thought of the presence he speaks of as someone different from himself.
No, it’s him. It is his gruff voice and soothing, pleased words. I don’t make a move toward the blaster; I don’t even consider it. I am in no danger; it occurs to me I am seeing something, a part of him no one else has lived to ponder on. That’s the last thought that crosses my mind as he shudders, making his thick, heavy cock move, just a bit. I crack open, coming again, but my mind goes dark before I can ride out the waves of pleasure for a fourth time.
