Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
With that declaration, he starts truly pounding me, ignoring my cries of pain in favor of drawing out wails of pleasure. I am going to come. I’m going to come because he gives me no choice. I bounce on his cock, trussed like a toy, used like the filthy little animal I am as he once more brands me with his lust.
“Come for me,” he snarls the order, sinking deep inside me. “I want to feel this wet little human hole quivering around me.”
His crudeness sparks a reaction in me that I cannot control. Ornix is so many things; my boss—that’s where he started, and I think my brain is still clinging to that brief moment of feeling his near complete corporate authority over me. Now he’s my captor, my hunter. He’s the master of my body and my destiny. He’s everything all at once and his cock is deep inside me, pulsing as he roughly delivers another dose of his seed directly to my womb.
“Fuck!” I squeal and squirm while being held on his cock, feeling every drop of his cum sinking into me, becoming part of me.
I can’t stop myself from responding orgasmically. Even if I wanted to, and I don’t think I want to. I need to let loose, to let my legs shake and my voice quaver and break and my pussy milk him as if I want to be bred as much as he wants to breed me.
“Ornix! Fuck!” I cling to him as something starts to happen to me that has never happened before.
I am not just coming. This is no normal orgasm. It’s not just physical pleasure. It’s something that’s rushing through every cell in my body. It’s a climax so intense I feel it in my bones. The ropes that were holding me with an inexorable grip fall away and I expand out of them, no longer subject to gravity. I feel like I am floating, suspended in front of Ornix, a golden glow emitting from every pore of my skin.
I am leveling up. I can feel it. New power is racing through my body. It feels like a light drawn from the waning sun, and from the rising moon at the same time. I feel myself suspended between two elemental lights, and I feel myself changing in ways I did not know I could change.
“Oh, my god. Oh, my… that was so… am I… is it…”
He gathers me close and kisses me deeply. There’s something between us now that was not there before, a kind of kinship, an underlying sense of being animated by the same force. Whatever it was keeping me alive when I was just a girl in my world has been shifted, overtaken by something much higher octane.
“You’re more than you ever were,” he says. “You have taken the dragon’s gift, and you are beautiful. As you are now, you will always be. Age will not diminish you. You will stay radiant beside me for as long as we choose to rule…” He pauses for a long moment, then smiles at me with some real affection. “Or until you decide to do something very silly.”
He lets me go for a moment, and turns to ready the horse. We both know we are running late. The quality of the light has changed. We are no longer in a long warm afternoon, or even a gentle twilight. Instead, the light has taken on the cool, blue hue of impending evening, draining color from the world—but not from Ornix. He shines like he is lit from within.
I watch him prepare Otto, restoring the bridle he removed in favor of a halter when he found us. As he does that, I start to feel the oddest sensation on my shoulders. It’s an uncomfortable itching sort of sensation that makes me want to rub against a tree. I back up against one of the trees that has good rough bark and work myself against it until some of the itching is gone. It’s a temporary relief, but sometimes that’s all you get. It almost feels like there are bumps there. I wonder if I got bitten by some fantasy mosquito.
“Are you alright, my love?” Ornix is so much more relaxed now our mating has completed.
“I am. I think I need a bath. I don’t think I’ve ever been this filthy for this long.”
“It is time to get home,” he says. “We both need to clean up, and you will need to rest after all these matings and punishments. You must be very sore, my sweet little mate.”
I am sore. But the effects of a third dose of his seed have provided a sort of ethereal relief from the sensation. It’s not quite a painkiller, because I can still feel the pain. It’s more like a pain-doesn’t-matterer. More like a dissociative, maybe? Except I still feel very present. There’s no way to understand all the strange things happening to me in this place.