by Nora Ash
The demon took in her raging outburst with complete calm. The hand still cupping her cheek stroked over her chin once, not shaken off by her attempt at slapping it away, as he focused on her forehead. “Ah, I suppose I did neglect to tell you the other side effect of your Mark, sweetheart. You see...” His fingers trailed up her cheek, and traced over her eyebrows. “You will lust for him, or whoever touches it. One brush of a fingertip and you will spread your legs and beg to get fucked by anyone and anything with a cock. It is only a safety measure, of course, to ensure that new Breeders allow frequent matings even while they’re getting used to their new life. Once they have settled in, it is rarely needed.”
“I will never want anything from monsters!” she spat, pulling her head away from his touch with fury roiling in her gut. “And I will never willingly let you touch me again. You’re a fraud and a rapist and... Nnhhh!”
His amber eyes held a mildly curious expression as he watched her reaction to the thumb he’d gently placed in the middle of the mark, a small smile grazing his lips at her interrupted rant.
Selma only vaguely noted the amused look on the man in front of her as heat blazed from that small circle on her forehead, melting her capacity to think on its way down to her body, where it seemingly set every cell aflame. All she wanted, all she needed, was his deviously quirked lips on her skin! Now!
Mindlessly she hurled herself forwards with a strangled cry, grabbing his shirt in her fisting hands as she used it for leverage to pull herself up against him, stretching for his mouth. Unfortunately, he was much taller than her, and instead of bending his neck and kissing her like every instinct in her suddenly throbbing body was screaming for him to do, he just... looked at her. As if that was helping anything!
Angrily, she let go of his shirt and reached up, grabbing the smooth, black strands of his hair in her hands and forcefully pulling him down where she could reach.
His surprised laugh got cut short when their lips finally crashed together. Selma moaned in relief and opened her mouth to better taste that sweet heat emitting from him, all the while clutching her fingers in his clothes and hair to keep him from moving away. She needed him as close as he could possibly get.
Thankfully, he responded to her need, his lips parting just enough for her tongue to dart in between. She moaned again, white sparks firing off behind her closed eyelids at the taste and feel of his tongue, and though it soothed part of her wild craving it also sparked another—deeper—desire.
With desperate haste she started pulling at his shirt with the one hand she didn’t have locked around the back of his neck to keep his mouth where it belonged, succeeding in untucking half of it from his pants before he could react.
Dr. Hershey grinned against her lips and grabbed both her hands in his, encompassing them with ease, before he pulled a few inches away from her face. “Now now, Miss Lehmann—.” Her impatient whine interrupted him, and he cocked a teasing eyebrow at her. “I specifically recall you stating that you would never want anything from ‘monsters’ not two minutes ago, and I feel a little uncomfortable with a patient of mine trying to undress me in my own office.”
He dared mock her! Selma snarled at him in agitation; it was his job to make her feel good, nothing else. Especially not taunting her for something he had caused. “Touch me, you idiotic jerk!”
The demon’s grin widened at her language. “I’d love to, but I wouldn’t want you to feel violated, my sweet. Despite your claims, I am not a rapist—anything we do, we do with your consent. Is that clear?”
The thought of rape was laughable at that point; she knew he had caused the wild haze of lust to take over her now burning body, but it mattered little to her. What he was and what he had done was irrelevant, because he was everything she needed right then—the only one who could give her the release she so desperately craved. If she’d had the strength she’d have happily forced him, with no remorse.
“Yes!” She snapped it out while futilely wrestling with his grip. His warm breath wafted over her upturned face and made liquid want soak her panties as he took in her desperation with a calculating expression. Yet she saw that his own desire was beginning to crack the calm mask and felt bone-deep relief and triumph even as she kept struggling for his mouth’s attention. It was only a matter of moments before he would give her what she needed.
“You consent, Selma?” His voice, huskier now, pulled another whimper from her with the vibration it sent down through her spine, but she managed to nod her agreement through the fire in her veins.
“This is not rape?” He bent his head just a little more, his breath teasingly tickling over her lips now, and she thought she might pass out from the sheer strength of her need for his kiss.
“No! I want to... Please!” She stretched as far as she could, almost reaching his warm lips, willing him to give in.
He did.
The sweet rush of ecstasy when his wonderful taste returned to her lips had her pacified for a few seconds as she adjusted to the head rush it caused. Then the fire in her abdomen exploded.
“Easy now!” There was still laughter in Dr. Hershey’s voice when she ripped his shirt apart, sending buttons flying, but that didn’t conceal the dark thrum of desire or the growl she pulled from him by scratching at his skin to yank it completely off his body.
“Little wildcat,” he growled, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her head back a little when she tried to bite him for delaying their coupling. “You want it rough?”
Selma shuddered wantonly at the heated promise in his eyes, relishing in the unabashed lust she saw there. All signs of his cool, professional façade were wiped away, leaving nothing but strong, lean male primed and ready to fuck. God, how she needed him!
Instead of answering she let her hands smooth over his rock-hard stomach muscles, up to the chiseled chest where she dug in her nails, drawing blood and a snarl from the demon. His hold on her hair tightened painfully, but it only sent the slick heat pooling between her thighs dripping down her legs as she dug her nails in deeper, pressuring him to take control. She wanted, needed, him to claim her forcefully, to prove he was strong enough to take her as he pleased, and he was going to do just that, even if she had to rip him to shreds first!
Thankfully, he complied.
Her head was yanked all the way back with a rough tug, exposing her vulnerable throat to him. His lips followed, burning up the column of her neck until his teeth dug in in an unspoken claim of dominance.
Selma moaned, momentarily going limp against him as his free arm wound around her waist. Yes, this was it—this was what she needed him to do! The heat from his mouth and the sting from his bite only fueled her desire.
The second he released her throat she was pulling at his pants, not quite able to work the buttons in her lust filled haze. Finally something snapped and she managed to rip them open before she was suddenly pressed against the wall with both hands locked over her head in his large hand.
“Are you wet for me, sweetheart?” he asked huskily, trailing the fingers not locked around her wrists down her stomach and—ever so lightly—over the front of her pants.
“Oh fuck, please, please, more!” She strained against his grip, pressing her hips out in a desperate attempt at getting more friction against her painfully sensitive groin, but he easily kept her in place, drawing teasing patterns on the white fabric with just enough pressure to drive her crazy with need.
“I’ll give you more, sweetheart.” His amber eyes bored into hers, forcing her attention to them rather than his naked torso and the ache between her legs. “Maybe you’d like another fisting, hmm? You screamed so wonderfully when I ravaged your little cunt yesterday.”
Even in her aroused state, with his fingers tormenting her nether lips through her pants with agonizingly gentle strokes, the thought of his huge fist inside of her was not entirely delightful, though this time it was mainly because every part of her being ached for his cock.
“Just fuck me!” she
gasped and arched desperately, doing her best to reach his warm body with the part of her that needed him the most. “Please, for the love of God, fuck me!”
A feral sneer crossed his features, almost resembling the demonic features the brand had suppressed from her vision, and he stepped in closely, pressing against her pleading hips roughly enough to flatten her against the door. “There is no god here, Selma. There is only me, and the pleasure. Do not call out for one again, or I will make you regret it.”
The threat might have registered if he hadn’t been close enough for his breath to waft warmly over her face as he stared her down. When he released her hands to grasp at her shirt she lost any and all focus for anything but his powerful body.
He ignored her frantic hands as they clawed his torso and ripped at his pants, easily removing her top and pushing her bottoms off her squirming legs before pulling his length out of his own ruined pants with one hand.
She didn’t get a chance to drink in the sight of him as the next moment she was lifted against the wall, braced with one leg on each side of his strong hips. Her muscles tensed in preparation of what they instinctively knew was to come, even as the entrance to her pussy softened further, weeping with need for penetration.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted as she felt something hard against her nether lips, but his hands on her hips kept her from pressing down over it as he held her against the wall, so despairingly close to satiation.
“Hold. Still!”
The snarled command made her look up at him in confusion through the haze; she didn’t understand the need to be still, nor was she capable of obeying. Her body had a mind of its own, and every second without being filled by him the squirming became more impossible to control. Even if she had wanted to.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he hissed as she bucked against his restraining grip, but when her only reply was a needy whimper he finally relented, accepting that she would not calm before he appeased her distressed sex.
With a foul curse he lowered her, growling with his own primal need as his cock started pressing in and he felt her tense, her whimpers pitching higher as she weakly pawed at his chest.
“Relax, sweetheart.”
She hardly recognized his voice, deep and hoarse from hunger as it was, but even through the roaring mating instincts that forced her to accept the massive cock, she realized that something was wrong—terribly wrong. The head, large and bulbous and otherwise just what she needed, was fully inside of her, but along the rim something hard and uneven dug into her slick channel uncomfortably, overshadowing even the inhuman stretch of his disproportionate size.
“It won’t harm you if you relax.” He was struggling to keep still, his own instincts clearly fighting to take over and ram into her to the hilt, taking her fully whether she was prepared or not. “I will explain after... don’t fight it, it will feel good in a minute.”
Not that she had much choice; her body, though alarmed at the unfamiliar sensation, was too deep in the brand’s spell to put up a fight, and when he pressed in further and those bumps ground against her g-spot, all traces of worry disappeared.
“God!” She tossed her head back against the wall as the jolts of uninhibited pleasure rushed through her form. “More! So good I—!
“Hnng!” Her cries for more were abruptly cut off as the demon pushed her down and simultaneously drove his hips up with a single rough jerk, ploughing his cock all the way into her.
She clung to his shoulders, gasping through the shock. Though his fist had been a lot harder to take, and her pussy was more than ready, the still-sore muscles from his examination protested loudly at the violent entry. He was very large and very hard, her squeezing core not finding any give in the ridged mass as she struggled to adjust, even as her need to mate resurfaced through the stupor.
“One more mention of a god of any kind and you won’t be able to walk for a week after I’m done with you, do you hear?” he hissed it at her through gritted teeth, but he might as well have spoken Greek for all the sense it made to her; her focus was firmly and solely on the need for the thing inside of her to begin the thrusting rhythm she instinctively knew she had to receive for the wild lust to be quelled.
Whimpering at the unyielding pressure she flexed her hips, trying to gain enough momentum from the wall and his strong hands holding her up to ride him, but he was so deep within her that she could barely move, impaled as she was.
However, her efforts forced the demon’s attention to the same urge and he growled with pleasure at her movements, drawing back far enough for the ridges to once more massage her g-spot before he drove in again. And again.
Oh, this was it! This was exactly what she craved, what she was built for, what her entire universe was centered around! Selma let out a sob of relief even as he pounded her viciously, her abused pussy numb to the ache and her mind swathed in endorphins. She dug her nails into his shoulders to ensure that he didn’t pull away before she surrendered completely to the male’s control. Even if she had wanted to she could do nothing to alter his deep, rapid thrusts, and her efforts to ease the coupling by moving against him were ignored as he lost himself in his instincts, his mind fully set on conquering his prize.
It took a few minutes before the blissful feeling of being filled and rutted morphed into something more, turning her throaty moans of contentment into sharp cries as the ridges on his cock over-stimulated the deepest parts of her, pulling her towards climax.
She felt it swell and grow low in her belly, so different from her normal clitoral orgasms with the dull, deep sensation of mounting pleasure. Yet the desperate need for its completion had exactly the same power over her as when he had rubbed her clit until her world shattered. Frantically she writhed for him, unnecessary pleas for more spilling from her lips even as he ravaged her with the full force of his inhuman strength until... yes, finally!
Selma clung to her lover, screaming her orgasm out as her pussy clamped down around him, squeezing his hard length for all it was worth until black dots danced in front of her eyes and the climax reached its peak.
When the orgasm finally released her she slouched against his shoulder, breathing hard while slowly regaining her bearings. He had courteously stopped pounding her into the wall while she came, and she was now held up by his strong arms and the heavy thickness she was still straddling, her torso resting intimately against his. The warmth from him was comforting, even as the heady pheromones from his sweat forced her tired pussy to contract weakly in an attempt at responding to the untamed demand for every last drop of her lust.
She groaned at the persistent fullness, the ache slowly setting back in as the endorphins ebbed. Every time he breathed, small spikes of pleasure would ripple through her from where the bumps on his cock dug into her. God, what were those things? Now that the craze was dwindling they weren’t entirely pleasant as they pressed into the deepest, sensitive spots inside of her, even though they had felt amazing during... whatever it was they’d just done. Fucked. She glanced up at the waiting man and shivered at the heat blazing from his eyes. Though he was allowing for her body to recuperate for a moment, nothing about that gaze was showing any signs of mercy.
Goodness, what had she done? The touch to her mark had turned her into some wanton whore, had changed her completely until she was nothing more than an aching vessel for his semen—and now she was trapped, melded to a demon who had no intentions of letting her get out of the role as his broodmare.
She had begged for this... how could she have given up control so completely? The all-pervading heat from him was suddenly anything but comforting; it wrapped around her oppressively, demanding her continued submission to the mating.
“I want you on your knees, Breeder.” His voice was husky and deep as he ever so slowly moved his hips against hers again, pulling a groan from her weakly protesting body. It was as if he could sense that she was no longer under the brand’s thrall and needed a physical reminder of the pleasure he could cause
. “Enough foreplay; you need to get on your hands and knees and take my cock so I can show you what a good little Breeder you will be.”
Foreplay? She had never been fucked so thoroughly in all her life! This had to stop; they had to stop for a moment so she could regain her bearings—regain her sense of self. “Dr. Hershey, wait. Maybe we could—Oh! “
Her pleas choked off when he hammered his cock in to the hilt, keeping her pressed against the wall at the hips.
“Don’t even try. You asked to get fucked—and that is exactly what’s going to happen.” He smiled darkly at her distorted face as she writhed for him. “But if you prefer, we can certainly make it a little easier for you again.”
“No!” Her brown eyes flew open as she felt him lean in, her hands pressing uselessly against his chest. If he touched the brand again she would be lost, swept away in the firestorm of desire, and she wasn’t sure she could go through that again without breaking completely and permanently for him. How many times could she get lost in that bottomless need before there would be no way back?
“Yes.” His warm breath ghosted over her forehead as he wrapped his hands around her wrists and pinned them to the wall. The dark lust that had taken over his professional persona burned in his gaze, leaving no shadow of reason; he was as lost in her as she had been in him.
She panted hard as he moved slowly and deliberately inside her a few times until her attempts at freeing herself stilled, her traitorous body beginning to wake and respond again, though somewhat more mutedly than during the short, wild heat caused by the brand. He stretched her perfectly, and she was wet enough for the bumps to feel good when he thrust, rubbing them slowly over every sensitive spot inside of her.