by Vi Voxley
His vision began to blur, but he didn’t need to see. All he needed was to get Crane’s right arm far enough… As his consciousness began to slip as well, Diego brought his legs up, nearly jumping into Crane’s lap and, holding the arm out straight, kicked at it with his legs with all the strength he had left.
Crane’s arm snapped with a nauseating creak. The reinforced bones were strong, but not unbreakable. That pain must have registered at last, because he made a sound like a grunt and the awful pressure around Diego’s throat relaxed for a second. That was all he needed to slam his elbow straight into Crane’s kidneys and slip away, stumbling, as Crane’s hold lifted.
Diego got away to a safe distance, trying to get oxygen flowing through his lungs once again. His head spun, but he was even now in very present danger. Crane still lived. The punch he’d received in the stomach wouldn’t delay him more than a moment and he’d shake off the pain in his arm like it was nothing. Diego gasped for air, everything still swimming before his eyes. That had nearly been the end of him.
Heavy footfall signaled the approach of his enemy. Crane’s expression hadn’t changed – the same perpetual snarl on his lips, the same madness in his eyes. His right arm was broken just above the wrist, the sharp edge of bone gleaming in the moonlight.
Diego had been foolhardy once. Now he had to do it again.
Reinforced bones were hard, that’s what they were. Getting hit by muscles boosted by them hadn’t been painless, as Diego’s body kept telling him. Yet it had to have been worth the sharp edge he saw now, a weapon within his reach. That was the curse of modifications. Bone wasn’t sharp enough to jam it through someone’s chest without a very fucking good angle, which Diego was not going to get with Crane, but industrial bone… All he had to do was make him stumble.
It took him three tries. Crane didn’t seem to comprehend the danger his own body had become to him. He only understood his left arm was now his stronger. Twice, he kicked Diego back with another set of punches that would hurt for a good while. On the third go, Diego managed to trip him at last. Everything from there happened as fast as he could possibly move.
With one, two steps he was at Crane’s side, twisting the broken arm to his head, only barely recovering from the thundering blow that swiped him off his feet and jammed the sharp bone into Crane’s throat. The monster thrashed, but it was too late. Diego kept the monster’s own arm in place until he stopped moving.
Then he stood. The crowd roared, but his eyes searched for Isolde. Her back was to him, Eleya obstructing her view of the arena. Diego was grateful. It was better she didn’t see the conclusion of a Brion death fight.
He lifted his eyes to the stars above and took a deep breath. He had won and he was alive. He had Isolde. He was complete.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Isolde
As they led her away, Isolde was glad Eleya had told her not to watch the fight to the end. Even the sickening snap of Crane’s arm breaking had been horrible for her to see. From the shocked silence of the crowd when Crane finally died, she assumed it hadn’t been an easy death even in their opinion.
Her legs shook as Deliya and Narath cleared their way through the crowds. The relief was almost palpable around them all. When Crane had stepped in the arena, Isolde had been sure her heart would stop. It was nothing like seeing the trophy beast in Diego’s quarters – that was already dead, the fight already concluded. Even having seen him fight before and witnessing the trophies in his room, Isolde hadn’t been able to summon the certainty that Diego would win.
And when Crane caught her general, she’d looked away of her own volition, unwilling to see the death of her gerion. She only looked back when the Brion crowd collectively breathed out again as Diego stumbled free.
Further away in the midst of people, Isolde saw Atren and his men following them at a distance, keeping a vary eye on those around them. Eren’s champion was dead now, it wasn’t hard to assume he wasn’t in the best mood. Danger lurked at their heels, even if Diego still miraculously drew breath.
“That was amazing,” Narath said as they went. “It is good you did not see, but there is no doubt Diego is the greatest general we have now.”
“Yes,” Eleya agreed. “This should make things better for us in the palace. I do not think any of the other generals loyal to Eren want to cross Diego at the moment, even with him having just fought.”
“Oh,” Isolde said. Her legs started shaking again, this time having nothing to do with the relief filling her heart. “Do you think he’ll come there?”
“Think?” Deliya smiled at her side. “A Brion warrior after a fight, with his blood running hot. Of course he will come to you. That is certain.”
Isolde barely registered walking the rest of the way, her mind conjuring up delicious images of Diego, making her nearly blind to what was actually happening around her.
As she sat in her rooms, the night dark and mysterious outside and reality finally clicked for her, she was almost paralyzed with fear. A clump blocked Isolde’s throat, her heart trying to beat out of her chest.
This is it. I have put it off for too long and have driven myself mad. He will walk in and instead of going mad with lust, I’ll just go mad, because I can’t bear this… waiting.
There was no knock on her door. No need for it. Diego, still a grothan, came to claim what was his. The thought alone made Isolde wet, made her rub herself against the bed in her need to be touched, even before he finally arrived.
And Isolde met Diego for the first time. It didn’t take her more than a second of open-mouthed, unbelieving staring to know that Diego had worn a mask of calm over the wild, sexy, untamed thing he truly was. The man who stood at her door, framed by it and the pulsing light of his valor squares, his eyes appearing to burn like blue flames – that was the real him.
Isolde whimpered and the wild thing was before her in an instant, lifting her off the bed to his mighty arms, kissing her breathless before her feet even touched the ground. She could feel his huge cock pressing against her stomach, feeling her pussy throb in response. All hesitation was thrown to the wind, because they were both still alive and she didn’t want to waste another second of time she might have spent with the general.
“You are mine,” Diego said then, stopping for a mere moment.
A question, a last chance to back away. Isolde laughed at the idea, bringing a fierce smirk to Diego’s lips as well. “Yes,” she whispered then. “Yours. Make me yours.”
The next second, Diego’s hands were ripping the clothes off her, his fingers digging into her flesh, his mouth licking a trail from her neck to her lips, kissing her so hard she had to bite him back. Heat coiled in her, a feverish burning that could only be sated by sliding her hands over Diego’s chest, peeling his shirt away from him. Isolde had to stop and stare, but hunger won out over admiring.
She bent to lick across the lean, hard muscles, perfect in every way, unyielding under her tongue. She had curves, but Diego had hard, jagged lines, etched to perfection. Every shape on his body was like he’d been crafted by the goddess of all women. The muscles on his chest glistened, wet from Isolde’s tongue, but she ached to taste more, to taste all of him.
Her tongue traced each ridge on his stomach, making Diego’s hands fist in her hair and earning her a hiss. He pushed her away only to rip the last of their clothing away, and then Isolde found herself pushed back on the bed, naked, skin to skin with her general at last.
“Fuck you’re hot,” she whispered. “Touch me. I want you all over me, I want you in me.”
Diego smiled that devilish smile he kept only for her. “Soon,” he promised. “I want to hear you beg for it. I want you to be so desperate and wet for me you can no longer stand it, as you promised when we met.”
Stupid past me, Isolde thought, but her mouth only moaned at the idea.
Diego kissed her again, sending her eyes rolling back to her head. His lips were soft, but that’s where the gentleness ended. The kiss
was hard and demanding and so, so hot, almost as hot as the feeling in her pussy, rubbing shamelessly against Diego’s thighs. The general chuckled into her mouth.
“You are making this hard for me,” he said, biting Isolde’s neck.
“I want you hard for me,” Isolde shot back. Her hand closed around his cock, stroking it, feeling the tip leaking precum already, making Diego groan. Hearing the sounds he made, how good he felt sent her mind reeling. He was so huge Isolde had to swallow at the idea of being split apart by a cock that big. She didn’t even honestly know if she could take him – that would have been unbearable.
Diego slid out of her hand, letting his cock fall against Isolde’s naked thighs, rubbing against her skin. He licked around Isolde’s nipples, groping her tits. His strong, hard body kept pressing itself against her, maddening in its closeness. Isolde bit her lip as Diego took one of her nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. She whimpered as he sucked, then tugged at it gently with his teeth. She moaned again, rubbing herself against him.
“Touch me, Diego,” she pleaded, gasping. “I need you. I fucking need you. I need you inside me…”
In answer, without taking his mouth from her tits, sending shivers of pleasure rushing through her body, Diego pushed her legs apart. At once, Isolde’s back arched to press against him, but Diego wouldn’t let her have it that easily. She wondered how he was resisting, the evil teasing bastard. When she told him that, Diego merely laughed.
“I can wait, because I want to fuck you when your pussy is so wet I can bury myself in you,” he said then, kissing his way down Isolde’s stomach until his head was between her legs. “I want to hear you scream and feel you thrash beneath me when I fill you, to have you fuck yourself on my cock.”
He punctuated every other word with a maddening lick over her clit, making Isolde fist her hands in the sheets and grind herself against his tongue when he didn’t pull away, teasing her further and further into ecstasy. He dragged his fingers over her pussy, wetting them. Isolde sobbed, feeling his cock harden against her leg every time a sound escaped her lips, knowing Diego was holding back. At another time, she was sure to pay him back for all the teasing, but she couldn’t ask him to stop when the torture was so, so good.
When Diego slid the first finger inside her, Isolde cried out. Not out of pain, but of longing and a bit of fear. The general’s hands were big already, and to have his fingers replaced by his cock later… Isolde shuddered, but the thought of being stretched open for him only made her grind down harder on his finger. Diego smirked, gently circling his tongue around her clit, making Isolde arch off the bed with her first true scream.
“You are so wet for me,” he growled. “Tell me how you like this. Do you want me to drag your pleasure out or fuck you right now? For my fingers to stretch you open wider or for my cock to force its way into your pussy?”
“Yes,” Isolde moaned. “Yes!”
“Yes to what?” Diego asked, his voice low and sexy, sending another shiver down Isolde’s spine. He added a second finger, scissoring them inside her. She could feel them push deeper, brushing over spots that made her entire body tremble, her toes curling and her hands tearing the sheets on the bed.
“All of that,” she whispered. “I want all of that. Fuck me, Diego, I need you. I want you to fuck me now. Please.”
His eyes, looking up over her naked body straight into hers, told Isolde everything about his own need, but he didn’t stop or move away. Instead, he pressed his mouth on her pussy, his tongue licking over his own fingers, making a lazy circle around her clit, tearing another scream from Isolde’s mouth.
Please let these walls be soundproof. I will scream for real soon. Very soon. There, just there, I…
The third finger went slower than the first two, forcing her body to take it in. Isolde bit her pillow not to scream her throat sore, not yet at least – it felt heavenly to be stretched wide by those amazing, long fingers pushing so deep inside her. She clenched around them, feeling heat rise to the surface of her entire body from head to toe.
She didn’t remember it ever being so good, so utterly, mind-blowingly good. Her body had ceased listening to her mind, because her mind was in shambles of just how much she enjoyed every touch Diego allowed her. She thrust herself upwards mindlessly, seeking more contact while trying to fuck herself on Diego’s fingers as he’d said. He was watching her, his mouth slightly parted, eyes burning.
“I want to see you like that all the time,” he said, twisting his fingers inside her to make her sob inaudible words again. “Hot and wet, writhing underneath me, riding me…”
Isolde was almost entirely certain that if the general didn’t stop talking soon, she was going to come from his fingers and words alone. The whole thing was entirely unfair, why should only he get to torture her like that…
“Let me touch you,” she pleaded hoarsely. “I want to feel how hard you are, how big you are.”
She had judged correctly that Diego couldn’t resist that, ultimately. The general snarled, but pulled back. The sense of emptiness was horrible for a moment, but Isolde knew she had to make him mad with lust too if she wanted to get what she really wanted.
Diego let her push him to his back, but if he had expected Isolde to give him a hand job, he was going to be disappointed – or not, Isolde thought as Diego moaned low and long as she licked a long trail up the shaft of his cock. He tasted so good, resting hot and heavy on her tongue. There was no way she could take all of him into her mouth, but she went as far as she could. With every inch she took, licking over the head of Diego’s cock as she went, the general arched up from the bed, his hand in Isolde’s hair, a nigh soundless cry on his lips.
“Fuck, Isolde,” he grunted and the way his voice shook just a bit was all the incentive Isolde needed to try it again, only to be rewarded with a long, drawn-out moan.
She took him in further, more and more every time she moved a little lower, making Diego’s hips twist under her mouth. His hands guided her head, pulling her down as far as she could go. It was such a power rush, Isolde thought, to have that man writhing under her tongue, hanging on her every movement, shivering of something she did. Having seen what Diego was capable of, it was exhilarating to know she could make him shudder – the man who was unbeatable.
She wanted him. No, what had been simple wanting before was now a need, a burning, aching need to have him in her, pounding her into the bed until they were both too exhausted to move. She pulled away from him, taking in the mouth-watering image of Diego lying there, his mighty chest heaving, his perfect muscled body glistening, mouth slightly parted…
Then she found herself underneath him again before she even realized he was moving. Her legs spread, Isolde rubbed herself against him, kissing him furiously. When Diego’s hands moved back between her legs, she nearly whimpered from frustration.
“Fuck me,” she begged. “I need your cock inside me… please.”
Diego shivered. At least Isolde wasn’t alone in the blinding, desperate longing. The general pushed his fingers in a few more times to make sure she was prepared, making Isolde whimper in need.
“Please,” she pleaded, desperation breaking her voice. “Claim me. Make me yours. I want to be filled by you.”
She saw Diego’s resolve crumble. A yelp escaped her as Diego lifted her legs over his thighs, laying down over her. The head of his cock, huge and throbbing against her legs, pressed against her pussy. Isolde cried out as he pushed the head in, about to be properly taken at last. Even with all the preparation, she felt every inch of Diego stretching her wider for him. She moaned in ecstasy, in the amazing pain of being filled with such a huge cock, of it fitting into her like they were made for each other.
She was gasping for air, every thought wiped from her head when Diego was finally fully seated, balls deep within her. He barely fit, perfectly filling her to the brink. Then he moved, slowly at first to let her body adjust, but neither of them was going to be satisfied wit
h that.
“Harder,” Isolde gasped, dragging her nails over Diego’s chest, looking into those bottomless ocean blue eyes. “Fuck me hard, I want to feel all of you. Make me scream – ah!”
The shout escaped her lips as Diego grinned above her and gave a sharp thrust. It left Isolde breathless and trembling. She wanted more, more, yes, yes…
“Yes!” she screamed as Diego settled into a brutal rhythm that sent a wave of pleasure over her every time he slammed into her, making her body shudder to its core. “Oh fuck yes, Diego, oh god it feels so good, fuck me fuck me fuck…”
Her words switched from English to Brionese to whatever other language popped into her head, but Diego hardly seemed to care. He leaned down on his elbows to kiss the tumbling words out of Isolde’s mouth, groping her tits as he continued to pound his cock into her, his breath coming short already.
Isolde didn’t think she’d ever felt anything even remotely as good. Her entire body shuddered with each thrust, Diego’s weight on top her and his scent driving the last bit of coherence from her mind. Even her voice had almost given in, she could only scream, biting down on Diego’s shoulder not to lose her mind entirely in the absolute bliss of it. She was so, so close to the edge of it all, ever caught in the need to make it last and to reach the peak.
She felt Diego gasp, felt his cock throbbing inside her pussy, which clenched down in response, hungry, wet. They’d lost all rhythm they had had completely and were reduced to writhing on the edge of their pleasure, Isolde’s screams drowning out the shuddering of the bed beneath them and Diego’s moans in her ear.
“Yes,” she whimpered, clenching down around Diego, her body sore and her legs trembling. “Ah, yes, Diego, I’m – I’m gonna…”
He didn’t stop his maddening rhythm for a moment as Isolde screamed as she came, nearly blacking out because of the intense pleasure, shaking. Diego groaned, low and deep, sounding sexy enough to make Isolde throb in need even seconds after coming. His thrusts were completely frantic, rhythmless, desperate, and he growled something that might have been her name, pounding his release into her.