by Nora Ash
“What are they?” she gasped, clenching her fists uselessly as he pulled out far enough for her swollen g-spot to receive their firm attention.
“Cartilage ridges along the edge of the head.” He grunted when she squeezed experimentally around them. “Our own females are stronger than humans and often need to be kept in line during mating. Biology has given us a way to do that. Of course, for human women it’s just another way to make you beg, isn’t it, darling?”
Selma mewled in response as he pointedly thrust back in with a bit more force, her hands grasping at air in his grip. His anatomy certainly did quell any desires to attempt resistance!
“I said: isn’t it?” His lip curled up in a snarl and before she could gasp a reply he pounded into her with enough force to make the wall protest, immediately letting his hips pick up pace to a merciless rhythm that had her thrashing and screaming.
“Yes, yes!” She cried it out, not quite sure if she obeyed to end his assault on her body or to ensure that he didn’t stop. “God, please, I—!”
Her high-pitched whine when his firm lips were placed over the brand on her forehead interrupted her plea and she stiffened, her back arching out from the wall as hot tendrils shot through her brain and body in pulses, forcing her pussy to contract rhythmically around him.
The demon sucked her marked skin, lapping his tongue wetly and teasingly over it as he released her frozen form, pulling out of her sopping channel and letting her slide to the floor.
There was only blazing heat and the sensation of having the most sensitive part of her being stimulated continuously and unrelentingly. It was more than orgasmic, more than sexual—more than life; it was the essence of everything the universe had to offer, and she felt it crack her grasp on reality and her sense of self slowly dissolve in its shattering power.
When he stopped it was like being ripped away from the source of life itself.
Furiously she attacked, launching herself at the man with every intent of ripping him apart for that blissful source she knew he possessed. In him was the key to salvation, to sweet release of the dark power boiling in her blood and threatening to consume her until there was nothing but ashes left.
He growled at her, forcing her to the ground with his much bigger body and flipping her over, despite her wild struggles to tear out strips of his skin.
“On. Your. Knees!” It was a hiss against her ear, followed by hands pulling at her hips violently enough to make her stop swiping at him. Her arms barely managed to support her own weight in time to keep her head from banging painfully against the floor.
It was a curious thing, really, though she did not have the capability to appreciate it then; the moment she was on all fours with her back to him and his fingers bruising her hips she no longer wanted to rip him apart. Howling with need she arched her back for him, her dripping opening clenching on air as her body recognized the true nature of her desperate situation.
Mercifully, he mounted her immediately, understanding that he had driven the Breeder past what she could bear. He ploughed into her clamping pussy and growled alongside her sobbing outburst of relief as he bottomed out, the rut finally descending fully upon him.
There was nothing but the wailing female and her intoxicating scent, and she was his.
* * *
It took three pained orgasms before sense slowly returned to Selma. Her wild bucking stilled as she gasped through the aftermath of her last climax. Every muscle in her body ached, their consistency resembling that of jelly, and her breathing was ragged and wheezing. With a whine she gave up her attempt at staying on her hands and knees, sliding down on her stomach and leaving the man still hard and buried in her to follow.
He did, pressing his weight down over her in a mix of protection and dominance, and though she was no longer under the mark’s spell, her exhausted mind relished in the closeness and scent of him. Primal parts of her brain gushed at the male’s strength and attention even as something half-muted tried to claw its way through the thick hormonal fog to remind her that she was in enemy hands.
Those same hands moved from her hips, smoothed down her arms as he readjusted his weight over her, and finally braided with her fingers as he lifted halfway up again. The next moment she grunted with him as he thrust into her.
It didn’t hurt, exactly, as she was still sopping wet and open from the prolonged coupling, but with the craze lifted she was acutely aware that her pussy was battered and swollen from the brutal pounding he’d given her, and every push of his ridged cock tormented over-stimulated flesh with pleasure she could barely take.
There was no reprieve yet, though; not before her lover had found his release, so Selma purposely pushed the protesting part of her mind aside and lifted her hips a little, angling her pelvis so he could fill her more easily. The sounds of his flesh against hers made it easier to drown out the protests from both body and brain. She moaned, giving into his dominance and wonderful cock yet again, drugged on his pheromones and the lazily mounting pleasure in her loins.
“Mmh, my sweet. Like that.” His voice in her ear was hoarse with tension from an impending climax and the long, hard build-up for it, but even this close to his own release he didn’t forget his obligations to the Breeder he had so thoroughly claimed. Growling in that way she liked so much he bit the back of her neck and, when she whimpered with pleasure and surrender, released her right hand and let his own find its way underneath her to her sweet spot.
She jolted under him, straining up while clutching at the floor and his cock from the ungentle manipulation of her swollen bundle of nerves, but before she could adjust, he drove his cock deep. A few hard, full thrusts and she gave up fighting his touch, her shrill keening taking on the note of yet another orgasm underway as he once again proved how total his control over her body was.
She took his cock to the hilt over and over, gritting her teeth against the power he was driving into her with while her pussy struggled to bring her the release he was demanding.
It only took minutes before the pressure in her abdomen overcame her fatigued muscles and she came with a hoarse cry, milking the demon with the last bit of energy her cramping muscles could produce.
Thankfully, it was enough. A deep, inhuman roar ripped from the beast on top of her as he slammed in one last time before stiffening. Hot liquid pulsed against her cervix, filling the few crevasses of her pussy not fully stretched to the limit by his hard length as he finally seeded her.
When the demon collapsed on top of her with a satisfied sigh the only thing she had energy left for was gasping air into her burning lungs and listening to her own thundering heartbeat that seemed to drum through her with enough force to dim her vision. Likely her eyes were just blurring due to exhaustion.
She closed them, tiredly hoping that there would be no permanent damage done to her system from the intense over-stimulation.
They rested together in silence for a long while, the protecting warmth of his body shielding her from the world and enveloping her mind in his masculine musk, soothing her with its embrace while she calmed down from the rough mating. Only when his heavy cock began deflating, letting warm semen ooze down her thighs, did her brain jolt back to life.
He had bred her.
“Am I pregnant?” she whispered the frightening question into the sinewy arm he had curled around her head as tendrils of fear snaked their way through the pleasant afterglow. She had lost herself so completely to his demonic magic that she hadn’t protested his desire to seed her; had even welcomed it when she felt his semen coat her womb.
“No, sweetheart.” The man pushed himself up, and she groaned when he pulled out of her, the ridges on his softened cock still prominent enough to tease her tender pussy. “It can only happen during your ovulation, and even then the chances are slim.”
Relief washed through her; while her slowly returning sense of self-preservation might have questioned the truth in anything he ever said again, the longing tone made it quite obvio
us that he would have delighted in even a small chance at impregnating her. So at least she wouldn’t have to face a demon spawn growing inside of her while she tried to understand what had happened to her in the past few hours. Or in the last 27 years, more accurately.
“Shh.” A kiss landed on her shoulder blade before she was gathered up and cradled in his arms like a child. “Be calm my sweet; there is no need for worrisome thoughts.” With a gentle peck to the top of her head he twisted around to lie back down on the floor, this time using his own body as cushioning for hers as he cradled her smaller form against his chest. Before she could move to put distance between them he propped a knee in between her thighs to make her more comfortable and, probably not so coincidentally, stopping her from rolling off him.
She sighed, annoyed with the way he easily moved her as he pleased, but even more so with her own mind’s contented acceptance of his wishes; she could already feel his warmth and heady scent lull her back into that relaxed post-orgasmic state, traitorous whispers from somewhere deep and primitive convincing her to trust—and succumb to—the male who had claimed her. She had already yielded to him and received bone deep satisfaction in return—closing her eyes and giving in to his continued protection was only natural.
“Good girl. Just relax; I’ll take care of you, my sweet. Protect you from everything.” His voice was oddly muted, as if his thoughts were miles away, while he absentmindedly breathed in her scent.
Something in those words made her frown through the pleasant lethargy. They resonated so perfectly with her half-conscious thoughts about giving in and letting him protect and care for her... too perfectly. As if he... somehow read her mind and wanted to reinforce the treacherous murmur trying to convince her to accept his full dominance.
She deliberately kept still, breathing deeply to keep her heart from racing even as little snippets of their past interactions slithered through her brain. Somehow he’d always seemed to know if she was being dishonest or about to object... Could he read thoughts? She knew nothing about demons or their powers.
A soothing hum from the large man underneath her was followed by muscular arms constricting around her body, pressing her deeper into his enticing heat. “Don’t be afraid,” he mumbled, before rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. “You are safe.”
“How do you know?” She pulled back from his affections, propping herself up against his broad chest so she could look at his face.
He seemed confused at her question. “Know what, little Breeder?”
“That I’m scared? Can you read my thoughts?” Nothing would be gained from beating around the bush; they were way past pretending that he wasn’t capable of things no person should be—the wet tenderness between her legs was a consistent reminder.
His decadent mouth curled up in a hint of a smile before he lifted his hand to thread his fingers through her tangled hair. “Your scent changes with your emotions; fear, distress... it spikes through even the intoxicating smell of pleasured Breeder.” The smile disappeared and the hand stroking through her hair slipped underneath her chin. He tilted her head up a little and bent his neck, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. “I would slay anything and anyone posing a threat to you, my sweet.”
The way he spoke... it was so different from the haughty attitude he’d displayed since finding her in his office. Tender words, a seemingly genuine care for her comfort uttered in a hoarse voice sounding almost... drugged.
She placed her head against his chest again, with her ear pressed over his slowly beating heart, so he wouldn’t notice the dawning realization spreading across her face. While the primal part of her brain was affected by his scent, apparently hers went straight to his head too, and it seemed to have an even larger impact on him. Before they’d had sex he’d seemed completely in the clear about his role as her prison guard, safekeeping her until some Lord could come claim her, but now... Now there was something utterly possessive in his protective behavior and soothing caresses, and he acted as if the mere thought of her being anything but pleased with what he’d done was an incomprehensible concept.
For some reason, knowing that he was so intoxicated on her pheromones allowed her own muted logic to clamber out of the hormonal fog, forcing her to process the full extent of what had happened to her during her stay at Ravenswood House.
The man whose semen was still leaking from her swollen nether region had tricked and manipulated her into accepting his authority, giving over control of her body and, with it, her life. After what had just happened it was painfully obvious that with the brand so subtly marring her forehead her fate had been sealed; one touch from a demon—any demon—and she would be compelled to spread her legs and beg for a fucking. Over and over and over, with no choice in the matter, until she was successfully bred like a prize mare by whichever male paid enough money for the privilege.
Unless... unless she could somehow trick the demon and escape. If she got away from him before he sold her off she might stand a chance. Of course, that was easier said than done; the only thing she knew about him and his kind was that they were far bigger and stronger than her, and that they certainly didn’t wish for her to escape.
Of course... with her captor in this dazed state, maybe she could find some way out. Some way to escape the nightmare. Though for that to happen, she would need knowledge.
Stroking her fingers softly along his bare chest to keep him placated, Selma bit her lip and began the questioning.
“Dr. Hershey?”
“I think you can call me by my birth name now, sweetheart,” he hummed in an amused note, his big hand moving to repay her caress with a light stroke down her back. “I am Marathín.”
“Marathín,” she repeated quietly, wondering if he was actually a doctor of any sort, or if that was also just a lie. “How many women have you... done this to?”
“Marked? Seven over the years, including you. You are the first perfect Breeder I‘ve personally found.” The pride was back in his voice, as if he had managed to secure a particularly valuable object.
Selma focused on breathing in his scent to keep her anger from shoving through the haze of contentment at that thought. She’d need to keep her pheromones pleasurable to him in order to keep him in the relaxed daze.
“Did you sleep with all of them?”
His stroking hand dipped down to the swell of her backside as his eyes cracked open to look at her. The burning possessiveness in them startled her, even as something warm and foreign deep in her abdomen tugged at her clouded mind at the sight.
“Only you, my sweet.”
She frowned while ignoring the happy hum from that same warm sensation down low. “But... why?”
The large hand on her rear dipped lower, brushing hot fingertips over the sticky mess he’d left between her legs. “I needed you. You have no idea how difficult it was not to have you while you were splayed open and panting for me in the chair. Then when you saw the mark... It was the best way to show you what it means, and hopefully help you understand. It is not all bad, is it?”
“No,” she agreed, accepting the pleasure from his gentle caress to her swollen labia. Her body was still thoroughly lost in the afterglow, making it pretty hard to deny that there had been some pleasant parts to the ordeal, even though their only real purpose was to suck her further into the nightmare.
The demon sighed, wrapping the hand not stroking her pussy tighter around her before inhaling deeply with his nose buried in her tangled hair. “What I wouldn’t give.” It was a soft murmur, not meant for her ears, but she heard it nonetheless—and suddenly saw a way out. If he could be persuaded to try and keep her, despite the auction-nonsense, to trust that she wanted to stay with him... then maybe he would leave her unsupervised long enough for her to get away. All she needed was an unlocked door.
Carefully, as to not cause disturbances in her scent with a spike of adrenaline, she considered how to best convince him to keep her as his. From the possessive and protective way h
e’d treated her since his release deep in her core she gathered that ‘scared and weak female’ might be the best approach. Coincidentally, it wasn’t too far from the truth, making pretense less of a concern.
“Marathín?”
“Mmh?”
“What would have happened to me, if you didn’t find me? Those demons... they were going to hurt me, and the other girl. If I hadn’t come to you, would someone like them eventually have... killed me?”
The hand that had been stroking between her legs came up to wrap around her waist as he instinctively pulled her closer at the mention of harm coming to her. A warm rush of safety from the primitive part of her brain currently in control of her body flooded her in response to his protective gesture, and she curved herself around the hard outline of his chest and thighs with a happy sigh. Whatever chemical had been triggered in both of them during their tryst sure was powerful, but at least it was also helpful in gaining his trust—she hoped.
“They would not have killed you.” His voice held carefully controlled anger; disgust. “Once they realized what you were, they would either have handed you over to the local Lord or... kept you as an illegitimate mate.”
“Illegitimate?”
“The lower ranking demons rarely get the chance to bid on a Breeder—they’re not worthy of the honor. However, in the past there have been a few... incidents. The pull from your scent is strong, and small enclaves have captured and shared Breeders, keeping them hidden while attempting to form mating bonds. Of course, these groups always fall apart from within eventually; no demon can share a mate.” He seemed to notice the shiver in her at the explanation and placed a calming kiss in her hair. “Don’t worry; that scum will never touch you.”