Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Emrys lowers my legs to the ground, leaving me in a face, down, prone position. I find a little scrap of flesh in between the blades of grass and push it between my teeth, nibbling on my found snack as perhaps the most terrifying of all my husbands prepares me for his use.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” He growls the question in my ear as he lubes my ass, smearing fat against the tight little bud he intends to split wide open.
“Yes,” I moan.
“I selected him specially,” he says. “You’re always that much more feisty when you’ve had a numahn meal. Do you remember why?”
“You know I can’t,” I whimper. I have the feeling we’ve had this conversation before. I can feel so much information hiding in the fog at the edge of my mind, not quite accessible.
“No, you can’t,” he says, his voice holding a note of what sounds like fake pity. “You’re stuck, aren’t you. It’s really not fair, a talented hunter like you cooped up in a safe, sterile world like this. So much talent wasted.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking to a part of you that knows,” he says, pushing two fingers deep and easily into my ass. The lubricant has made it easy, as has my relaxation. When Emrys handles me, I go soft and tender. There is something in me that recognizes him on a deep organic level. The baby is his, I think. Rhys and Emrys. They are cut from the same cloth. They are…
Thoughts escape my mind as Emrys’ fingers work in a twisting motion inside my ass. There is a bolt of excitement and yes, shame, that rushes through me. I can feel my barbarian husband watching me take this much less romantic handling.
This is an alien who knows there is something wrong with me and likes it. The back of my cute dress has been dragged through bloody smears, and now the front of it is suffering the same fate. I can smell the scent of my prey around me. The prey he brought for me. The prey he probably watched me consume with no small measure of pride. This is the father of my baby. This is the owner of my interior.
He spreads my legs while keeping me elevated in a similar position to the one my sweet barbarian had me in. He uses my ass as a grip, then picks me up around the upper thighs before angling his silver cock down and impaling my ass in one long, firm, possessive thrust.
“Yes,” he hisses. “You are so tight, and you get tighter still when I remind you how very wrong and twisted you are, don’t you? Don’t you love being taken this way, your filthy little asshole fucked nice and hard by the one who owns you and knows you?”
“Yes! Yes….” I can’t help but admit to everything he accuses me of. I love how rough he is being with me. He knows exactly what I can take and he is giving it to me. He reaches under me with his pale hand and begins toying with my pussy, rubbing my clit, making my inner walls clench and throb.
“You’ve got to help her get the seed deeper, Kronos,” he says. “It’s better if she comes.”
Kronos. That’s right. Not Karl.
I wonder for the briefest of moments why Kronos is hiding his name - then one realization leads swiftly to another bank of memories. I am being fucked in the ass with rough strokes as I remember the truth. This is not a real world. This is a prison in which my alien mates are keeping me contained. I was conditioned to forget, but when you are experiencing harsh reality of the kind Emrys specializes in, illusions have a tendency to fall away. I feel everything I am. I feel everything he is. I feel the trickle of life inside me, and I feel the greed of my clit as my valker husband rubs Kronos’ seed into my pussy, using his come to bring me closer to orgasm.
“You’re a perfectly tight set of holes,” he tells me, his language coarse, and his actions even more so.
Emrys can be so refined. Unlike the others, he is not dressed on theme. I didn’t notice it before. Maybe my prison addled mind would not let me. But he is wearing a regal tall coat with a high collar, all in black and red with silver markings to denote his station. When I twist my head and look back at him I find him looking down at me with the expression of one who can cherish and degrade all in the same breath.
He fucks me a little like the way those who have disliked me have fucked me, but it is different when he does it. I have a connection with this creature. I feel his care and even his hidden tenderness. I feel the way he thinks about me, how he adores me. I drive him mad, but that is because I live under his skin. So it is only fair he be buried in my ass.