King Cobra (Naga Brides Book 2)

by Naomi Lucas

  The robots can’t replace everything...

  Grunting, I swallow the saliva flooding my mouth. I am hungry. The meat my house robots brought to me was barely enough to sate me. Daisy will sate me instead. Her swollen sex will. Only... I have no more jewels that I haven’t already given her, and she already has reign over the entirety of my den. Now that my strength is returning, I will give her access again, but only once I’ve made sure the robots are done repairing the walls and windows…

  I have nothing left to give my queen—only my member and my devotion. Finding the rigid spot inside her that makes her thrash, I begin rubbing it.

  She moans softly for me.

  I growl, wrapping my tailtip tight around my aching shaft, yanking hard.

  In the days she has let me explore her sweet sex—bringing me closer to my madness without realizing it—I have memorized it. I have pushed and pressed and licked and loved it with my fingers and tongue, wanting to know my female and what works for her best. If she is pleased, she will let me do more, and then we both get what we want.

  I like getting what I want. I always get what I want. I want to spill inside her.

  She insists it will never happen, insists that we’ll never fit. Does she not see that I have been preparing her?

  And now that I know she will kill for me, I need to claim her. I need it, or I might crumble into dust. If I can’t claim her, no one can.

  I almost lost her.

  I can’t wait any longer.

  My mind is clouded, and I am making too many mistakes because of it, mistakes that will get us killed. I also made her a promise...

  And she is a small, little thing. A breakable flower, unwatered, and in need of mastery.

  I push another finger inside, forcing her to open for it, and join it with the first in petting the sweet spot within. Her sheath is tight, having lost all the work I’ve put into it, devouring her arousal for sustenance.

  “Zaku!” she squeaks my name. But she pushes into my hand and I smile, knowing I will soon get what I need from her.

  Her arousal on my tongue… I am also in need of watering...

  I lick the air, tasting her despite the steam and water. She may have cursed me to death, but she will soon understand why I caged her. It’s not even my cage, though I’m glad I have it. It is useful now that I have a mate to protect.

  Rubbing her gently, I add a little pressure, letting her know I will take it slow. My wound still aches. It will take another meal to finish regenerating. That and another night of solid rest.

  Rest can wait. Food can wait.

  I haven’t moved in days, and my muscles need exercise.

  So do Daisy’s…

  “Zaku,” she whimpers my name again when I stuff another finger inside her, forcing her to take it.

  The worst of her bruises have yellowed and her scrapes are all but gone. I run my free hand up her leg, feeling the smoothness of her skin. She is bare of hair everywhere below her neck, and I… like it. She is like me in that aspect. Our differences are not as much as she fears.

  I will master her.

  Daisy rests her brow on the wall, languid with the pleasure I’m giving her. Her eyes are closed, her lips parted. When I press my fingers—hard—into her spot, she gasps, jerks, and tries pushing my fingers out.

  My smile widens. “They are just fingers,” I purr.

  I release the pressure of my fingers and go back to rubbing her gently, stretching them slightly as I do.

  Oh, how wet you are, little queen.

  “Too much,” she breathes. She brings her hands to the wall, placing her brow on them instead of the wall, and rubs her face against them. “I’m so mad at you,” she mumbles weakly.

  I hiss. I stretch my fingers a little more.

  She will fit me eventually. Human females can expand, and expand a lot. I read it once in a book about human reproduction. She can take me. She will take me. Sliding my hand up and down her leg, I soothe her.

  Daisy rubs her face some more against her hands, but her feet part to give me better access. Pleased, I speed up my fingers and contemplate adding a fourth.

  “It was for your safety and mine,” I groan.

  “So you did… put me in there because you thought… I’d hurt you,” she murmurs through soft moans.

  “You would not have hurt me, but you could have run, and that would upset me. I will not have you run from me.” I quicken my fingers.

  “I—” she swallows, “I…”

  “You?” I rub her harder, seeing her hands fist and her spine straighten. I yank my member hard before sneaking my tailtip up her front to slap her nub, sensing her imminent undoing. Spill dribbles from my shaft.

  “I won’t be your captive forever!” she cries out, pushing away from the wall.

  Her sex clamps down on my fingers, squeezing them; her hips buck on my hand. She drops her hand to grab my tailtip, tearing it away from her nub as her body shudders deliciously. I grip her hip and steady her, keeping her upright as she bucks and quivers.

  Her sheath dances beautifully around my fingers. “I need—I can’t—” she gasps.

  I pull her into me, stretching my fingers as wide as I can get them inside her. “Let me take care of you,” I say, clutching her body, rubbing my swollen member over her backside. “You can take it.”

  I will not lose her. I will lie and beg for it. I don’t think I can go another day without her.

  If Vagan had stolen her from me… If I hadn’t returned in time…

  She moans loudly as I force a second orgasm from her body, but this next one is weaker. She is exhausted. If what she says is true, I’ve been unconscious for days.

  The cage is not a comfortable place.

  I resolve to remedy that after she’s forgiven me.

  “Freedom,” I rumble in her ear. “Freedom for your surrender.”

  Daisy shudders at my voice, her legs splayed, and I’m half-holding her up by my hand, pressing into her back. I run my free hand up her chest, her breast, and cup her neck and the collar there, continuously working her sheath, waiting for my answer.

  I will coax another orgasm if I must. I will coax a dozen.

  “I will never cage you again,” I add, licking her ear. It’s a lie, though in truth, I hope it’s not. I never want a reason to cage her again. I will if I must. “Forgiveness is next to godliness,” I say, remembering reading that line somewhere long ago.

  She grasps onto me, trying to support her weight. “You’re using my exhaustion against me.” Her head falls back onto my chest. Climbing over her to look upon her from above, I slip my hand from between her legs and cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers.

  “You’ve gone through a lot, little mate. Give in and let me rule you. Let me take it all away.”

  A king should never have to beg…

  “I will never give you another reason to cry,” I purr.

  She doesn’t say anything for a time, resting against me while I roll her nipples and move my palms along the curves of her body. I wonder if she’s asleep, letting me work the tension from her muscles, because her head rolls to the side. But when I lift her, moving my tail between her legs so she straddles me, she leans forward upon it. She rests her cheek on my scales.

  Leaning back, I take her in.

  She’s facing away from me, and her ass, her sex is open and on display, dewy wet and being sprayed on by the water from above. Her feet barely touch the ground on either side, hanging off me where she sits. I slide my hands down her back to cup her behind, pulling her cheeks apart to open her up.

  She wiggles, and I grip her hips, sliding her backward so her sex is flush against the length of my shaft. I undulate slowly, rubbing it back and forth over her slick folds.

  She still hasn’t answered, but she lets me play.

  My hunger festers.

  I won’t let this gift go away. If this is what happens when I get hurt, I will seek pain to have her so amenable toward me. Just
enough for her affection; not enough to bring her tears forth.

  I rub my knot over her slick sex, piercing it with my fingers when she sighs, and it quivers for me. I thumb her sensitive nub and her backside, even after she swipes my hand away. I like her responses.

  I am the luckiest male.

  All the while, the warm water of the shower sprays upon her, while she cuddles my tail. Cuddles it!

  It’s almost too much for me to bear. She is teasing me, torturing me. She has no idea what she’s doing to me, pushing me to the brink. I milk another orgasm from her body and yet, she still does not give me an answer.

  I grit my teeth, sinking my fangs deep into my lip. I position my tip to her entrance. I nudge it.

  She tenses immediately. “Zaku,” she whispers my name, fisting her hands.

  I grab my member and glide my tip up and down her slit, and when I’m done, I press it to her little hole again, sinking the tip in. “Answer me,” I growl.

  She looks back, blinking water from her lashes. I press into her a little more. Her sex clenches deliciously and I moan.

  Her lips part.

  We stare at each other. I don’t move my eyes from hers as I reach out with one hand and pet her spine.

  I dare to push a little further. Tight, swollen flesh fights against my invasion. I hiss, deep and hurried, as the pressure of her sheath tries pushing me out. I refuse to let it win, keeping my tip seated.

  “Daisssy,” I beg.

  Hooded eyes staring at me is all she gives me. Wildly, my heart thunders, knowing how close I am to my own ruin.

  “Freedom,” I whisper, pushing a hand between us to tease her nub.

  Her brow furrows.

  Daisy

  I haven’t felt this relaxed in longer than I can remember.

  Zaku’s finger rubs me, and I whimper. Overcome with exhaustion, I’ve been open to his gentle caressing, the orgasms he’s worked from my aching body. I’ll take the pleasure he offers greedily, having been denied any pleasure or comfort for days.

  His tip is inside me. I tense around it, feeling it press back, keeping me stretched. It scares me, but I feel so warm… so relaxed.

  And his smell… It’s heady. The water washes it away, but it doesn’t stay gone. I breathe it in, wanting it to fill me up. Except every time I try to inhale it deeply, there’s never enough.

  Zaku’s hand pets my spine. We stare at each other. He’s waiting for me to give in, he’s taking advantage of me, and I should hate him for it, but I don’t. I want the pleasure he’s giving me to continue. He’s alive. Yet...if I let him try to put his cock in me, my last defense against my captivity and my capturer will vanish. I’d be powerless.

  Keeping my gaze, he dares to press further into me. I constrict, not ready to allow him access. I ache for so many things. I don’t know what I want anymore.

  He rubs my clit faster in response.

  Gasping, I accidentally shunt back onto his cock. It sinks further in, and I strain backward. Zaku groans and I fist my hands harder. I jerk forward into his rubbing fingers, and his tip loses its purchase, slipping out of me.

  He growls and stops flicking my clit, hooking an arm around under me and stopping me from moving. He pushes his tip back into me, lodging it in place, stroking my clit so I won’t fight it.

  “Zaku,” I moan.

  He answers by thrumming my nub hard and fast. Hitching with pleasure, I jerk upon him, feeling another orgasm build.

  Terrible male. He’s a terrible, terrible male. He’s not being fair.

  But neither am I. I have tested him, pushed him, using his want for me against him to see if he’ll keep his word. It’s worked against me just as much as him. Because I want him. I want him so badly it stings.

  He’s given pleasure, and more, he’s saved my life. I’ve given him nothing in return.

  He hoists me, taking my feet off the floor. I hold my body over him precariously, crying out as he works another orgasm forth, trying not to slip over his slick scales. I rock my hips, desperate to be… full. He stops his thrumming, and I cry out again, rocking on his tip. I press back, searching for the pleasure I’ve lost. He grabs my hips to help me, and his claws bite my skin.

  “Yesss,” he hisses as I shudder upon him. “Yesss. Use me.”

  Use him?

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  My legs slip on his tail and he sinks into me. I hitch from the abrupt, brutal stretch as I fall onto him to his massive bulge. He goes rigid, his hands tightening on my hips, and I tense, alarmed by the sensation. His bulge presses against my opening—so big that I’m practically perched on it, seated on it.

  I scrape my nails across his tail. “Zaku!”

  He holds me upon him as I adjust to his size. I try to widen my legs but can’t, my feet sliding, my heels slipping. His tailtip coils around my right foot and holds it away from my body.

  “Don’t move,” he rumbles thickly, keeping me precariously over him. “You will make it worse. Trust me.”

  “Trust you?!”

  I reach back and grasp his cowl. I try not to move, knowing if I do, I might slip further onto his cock. I might break.

  “Trussst me,” he hisses.

  Hot, blistering heat shoots up inside me. Zaku growls, filling me with his seed. His scent returns thick and heady. I heave, taking as much of it as I can into me.

  Squeezing around him, I brace. I want my orgasm.

  “I need—” I gasp, “I need… more!”

  Twenty-Two

  A King No More

  Zaku

  “Zaku! I can’t stand it any longer,” she begs.

  Daisy milks my member, twitching upon it, rolling her hips. I push her forward to lie down on my tail so she can relax.

  “Relax,” I order her. She’s so tense. Her body is fighting me, making it harder for her to take me inside her. Even as she cries out for more, her sheath is refusing to accept more. I bare my fangs, staring down between us, where she’s stretched upon me. Where the seed I’ve released is trapped.

  Watered. I growl inwardly.

  Her hole is tight around my girth, gripping it hard. There’s no way I’m going to be able to push further in. My knot is thicker than the tip of my shaft. A lot thicker.

  She can’t take it. Already my bulge is pushed hard to her opening. It’s so full it’ll never breach her as is.

  I groan as a niggling thread of doubt enters me.

  “Please,” she mumbles, and while I hold her still, she shakes.

  I shake with her, salivating, tasting the humid air, the aroma of sex, her arousal, and my spill. A delicious miasma to drive me insane. Nudging further, her sheath gives me no access.

  I dig my claws into Daisy’s hips, trying to retain a modicum of control. She cries for more than I can give her, and my lips twist. I slip out and flip her over, trying again. It doesn’t work. I bare her to the floor and try mounting her from above, finding I’m able to get even less of my member in her in this position. I swipe my tongue across my fangs.

  No matter how much I spill, it’s only ever gotten bigger. Glaring at it, I snarl where it’s blocking my complete mastery of her.

  She is right.

  We do not fit.

  Disappointment ravages me hot and fast. Hauling Daisy into my arms, I put her back on my tail to straddle me again. She shimmies her hips, undulating in tiny sways, reaching down and grasping my member, seeking what I can’t accomplish. She pushes onto my bulge, and I grit out an annoyed moan.

  She lowers but can only take half my shaft. She rides my tip, and it’s almost too much for me to take… I need my knot inside her.

  My tip is not enough.

  Clenching my hands, I hold them away from her body so I do not accidentally hurt her.

  Turning her head, she blinks the water from her eyes, finding mine. Her hair is plastered beautifully over her shoulders and onto my tail, and I love it. I just can’t love it enough…

  “Zaku?”

  The way sh
e says my name is enough to nearly turn me into a rabid beast.

  I yank her off my shaft and place her on the ground.

  “Zaku?” She calls out for me when I slip out of the bathroom. I need to put distance between us. I need to get away from her. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t. She cannot fit me, and the pain of that knowledge is too much to bear. The pain in my loins will make me do something terrible. She’s all I want, the only being I crave, and we are not meant to be.

  We aren’t compatible.

  She doesn’t follow me, and I’m glad. If she did, I might jump her, mount her, and destroy her. I do not want to hurt her. I never want to hurt her. Seeing my empty nest twists my stomach.

  I am not a king.

  I am not her king.

  I am a naïve, monstrous male, one who seeks to force a union where there isn’t one. I have wronged her. She kills for me, and I lock her in a cage because I cannot bear letting another have her, even if I perish. Fleeing, I head for the rooms above because if I turn back, I will force my knot inside her body, and she will suffer great pain. I hiss long and furiously, scraping my fangs across my lip.

  Let her leave if she wills it. I snap. She has earned her freedom. It is the least I can do. It’s not her fault that I am what I’ve been made to be. A brute, even to my own kind.

  A murderer.

  I strike out, slamming my tail against the nearest wall, reopening my wound. Gritting my teeth, I press my palm to my chest to staunch the new blood. The pain feeds my sense of failure. Not only must I suffer this loss, but I have to live with the scar of it until my last breath? I finish ascending the staircase and enter the hallway where Daisy stabbed Vagan.

  It’s as good as new. The pictures on the walls are perfect. There’s not a crack, a scuff, a scrape from the fight. Even Vagan’s body is gone.

  It’s what I expected.