He guessed he should give her a choice over that one.
“Maybe.” Her eyes had widened a fraction, stayed there. “Just maybe.”
“Good. I’m going to eat you out now, but you’re not to come, yet. Nod.”
After a moment and a deep breath that pushed those tits out to the max, she nodded.
Hold that thought. He lowered his mouth to her, thumbing her open with both hands so his tongue had the very best access. The first lick over her clit made her groan and push herself forward. She groped for a hold on his horns, settling her hands around them as if they were handlebars. He chuckled and thought about commanding her to let go.
Not yet, he decided.
After this he was going to fuck her so hard into the wall this room would need redecorating.
Chapter 4
Cyn mumbled a curse and let her head fall back as Rutger went into expert mode with all the licking and sucking below. Man, he deserved an award for this. She was getting so wet she could feel the dribbles down her inner thighs, and her legs were shaking.
Lips parted, she looked down past his horns and the heave of her breasts, watching his dedication to the task, hearing the sounds of him licking. Pleasure surged, rippling through her body.
Don’t come?
“Fuck.” The back of her head thumped into that wall again. She couldn’t help wringing her hands on his horns, for they were surely made to give a girl the perfect grip during fuck-time.
With a long, dedicated lick, he tore another incomprehensible word from her, and she stiffened, arching, remembering late that he didn’t want her to come.
“Stop, Stop,” she said softly, choking at the last swipe of his tongue up and over her clit. “I’ll… I’m going to—”
“Come?” His laugh was mocking, but she was too far gone to care.
“Mm-hmm.”
When he climbed from his knees to his feet, she stayed upright with her hand plastered over her clit, feeling those pre-orgasmic twitches. Only by using the wall for support, did she succeed in stopping herself from sliding to the floor.
Damn. So close.
“You didn’t?” he asked, frowning but his mouth twisting up at the corner. The bastard.
“Uh-uh. No,” she croaked out. “I need you to…”
But he was hoisting her with his hands under her armpits, drawing her up the wall, then he pulled one of her knees high, opening her. Before she could complete her sentence, he’d shoved in, cock sliding, driving himself in so deep she ceased to breathe.
“God. Yes.” Cyn raised her other leg, offering herself to him, and he caught that leg too, with his fingers digging into the flesh under her thigh. “Please.”
The withdraw then thrust, the repeated jamming of his cock into her, this seemed cataclysmic in the moment.
More. She arched off the wall, pleasure climbing to the heavens, she was already so close, so damn close. If he’d just— “Please!”
As she half-wrapped her legs about him, Rutger gripped her hip and beneath her butt even firmer, a bruising hold. He speared in, penetrating her in that sweet, sweet rhythm. The wall was bumped and thudded upon, her butt bouncing off, her cries going from soft and awed to louder, more penitent; they were pulled from her raw.
“God.” And she was atheist too. “Fuck.” As he stuck it into her again and ground himself on her.
“Ass next,” he promised.
“Hey.” Cyn stuck out her tongue, but it was a soft, barely conscious protest because being fucked wrecked her brain cells and made proper talking impossible.
“Yes. You know you want it.”
Again he did a long, achingly pleasurable drive up into her. The widening of his cock was palpable, shoving her pussy walls aside, only this time she knew what to expect. It made her fear, a little, though she healed anything.
She did want it, wanted to try that weirdly spiky cock in her ass. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done this before… wait, how did she know that?
“Fuck,” she gasped, fingers clawing at his arm and shoulder for he’d pinned her to the wall with a massively deep thrust, and she felt the flare of those internally lodged spikes. Her eyes went blind, her pussy clamping in and then… then, she was orgasming, rasping out that unspeakably intimate cry, mouth open as she shuddered through that cresting explosion.
He stayed there for a long, long moment, so far inside her, so welded to her, that she wondered if they were two people, or one.
When she’d stopped spasming onto his cock, and her long silent cry was done, he pulled out and spun her, probed carefully at her asshole with his finger… Make that fingers. He was widening her enough that the very tip of his cock could work into her.
“Relax down here,” he said, biting her neck, and the alternate pain meant she was distracted enough for his fingers to enter her.
“Oh!” She grunted as they went further in, and turned her face sideways. Her eyes were closing as she tried to decipher the sensation of something large seeking entry to her ass, widening her…
A stretching hurt followed.
“Relax.” Then he switched fingers for cock, and began to shove, slowly. “Fuck, girl, with these tentacles going in here, you deserve this. I’m imagining the guy who did this tat drooling.”
Stop distracting me. His cock was almost in, she could tell… and then it abruptly overcame her final resistance.
“I— Oh, oh my, fuck. Fuck.”
Rutger hissed. “Fuck, yeah.” He pushed again, and his cock slid, stretching her even more. Then it forged in a small distance further. Forged, like some goddamn warship being launched.
This felt like a torpedo not a cock, like something the size of a weather blimp. She found herself panting because of the pleasure and pain warring in her mind, and quite definitely they warred where he’d stuck himself inside her.
After several shallow but what seemed tightly controlled pumps at her, with her clawing the wall and whimpering at the strange new bliss, at the expanding pains that rolled together with what she’d so recently felt in her cunt, Rutger pulled out most of the way. The spikes sprang out against her skin. Then he was coming, filling her ass. Much of it spilled from her, for the head was barely there, barely in her.
But…
“God. Ohmigod.” She ducked her head, breathing hard, feeling it all. What an invasion. Dirty as hell.
Him, in her there.
What would it be like, deeper? All the way in, and even better, climaxing while he took her.
“Next time,” he said, biting her shoulder. “Next time we train you.”
“Mmm,” she agreed, sweaty, panting, then crying out as he pulled from her. That flinch as her asshole was breached in reverse. She’d agreed, and it was a whole other universe being screwed down there.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Maybe we should have limits… Like you’re not allowed to erect those spikes?”
Rutger chuckled. “That’s involuntary. It just happens when I’m about to come.
“Jesus.”
“I don’t think he’s going to help you.” He wrapped his arms around her at neck level, feeling down her front, squeezing her, hugging her some more, then he kissed the top of her head. “We have to find some toys to open you. We have plans.”
We?
Toys sounded good, and she imagined him pinning her to the bed and working some huge dildo into her ass while he screwed her. That thought quickly aroused her. Toys. Even in the middle of the Apocalypse there must be sex shops somewhere?
It was best they’d fucked, despite the trial only recently being completed and her being tired. It’d been mental fatigue only. Not only had lovemaking left her with that warm orgasmic buzz, but it would insulate her against the Lure for a few days.
She wished she could do the same for Maura—take away the Lure. She would practice, get her skills back. Somehow, despite the new pain.
They found a communal place to bathe where, to her fascination, everyone went naked. Naked beasters was
a sight to behold—as if the athletes from the Olympics had been augmented then stripped. She decided communal bathing was a favorite of hers. The flirting was outrageous despite most of them being bondmated.
Water wasn’t always easy to find. This was only natural.
While she’d been fucking and cleaning up, Willow had been organizing as if to win a leadership prize. She called them to a conference room.
“This is all of you.” Willow spread her arms and slowly circled, indicating the small crowd surrounding her. “You are the ones who are going to find this Big Daddy vehicle. You will, I hope, be the ones to help free us from the Ghoul Lords.
“Tall order,” Cyn whispered.
“Yes,” Rutger agreed, hands clasped before him as if he was penitent and pure. The ripped tone of his arms compelled her to slip her hand over his forearm then up to his biceps.
“Hmmm. What are you doing?” he murmured.
“Shhh. Listening to Willow.”
“This Big Daddy existed before the invasion. It belonged to a company of Dr. Nietz’s, so whatever information it holds, providing it isn’t a burnt-out wreck, it probably won’t be that new. What we can hope for is that we can use it in ways no one could have back then. Because we are no longer simply human.”
That wasn’t impossible, just unlikely.
She didn’t mind the odds. Doing the impossible made her want to crack her knuckles and smile.
“You look happy.” Rutger nudged her with his shoulder.
“I am. I like doing shit. Sitting still bores me.”
“This is where the Little Mo robot has mapped, as well as what we of Worshipper Tribe know. I’ve combined the facts.” Willow spread out a large sheet of white paper on the floor and she kneeled beside it. “This is us. This is the bridge to the next quarter. It’s as close to factual as possible, based on communications from other quarters. We have a few cars that’ve been fueled up and a fairly clear roadway to get us to this bridge. Once we traverse that we will aim to drop almost all the way to ground level. There’s no choice, as the next part is mostly destroyed. We detour around this irradiated level where we think a missile exploded five years ago. Then, we go here, the last quarter.” Again she tapped. “We stay low there too, where almost certainly we will encounter nanobeasts, and there we find Big Daddy. If it still exists. Nineteen days was the prediction but with the cars it could be as good as a fifteen-day trip.”
“Yay,” Cyn said quietly, so only Rutger might hear her. “Booooom bada boom.”
“Big bada boom. I see you know your Fifth Element.”
“A favorite of mine. And why can’t we have TV anymore?”
“Well, I know some of the weaponsmiths have resurrected Blu-ray and games machines, linked them to solar power. If we were staying put…” He shrugged. “We aren’t though. So we find Big Daddy, then we find out who we all are, for real. Better than TV?” Rutger found her hand and inveigled his fingers between hers, firmed his grip down until her digits were almost screaming. “Especially for you, Cyn.”
“Yes,” she breathed, bumping into his arm with her body. “Oh yes. Fuck, yes.”
And she was so making it her mission to get one of those resurrected Blu-ray players and a game console. Massive not-online play sessions with this lot? This was her mission from god, she decided, or from whoever was currently watching them from above but seriously slacking off on the job.
They slept through the daylight hours, of course. She was indeed beginning to wonder if they were all vampires. Then their little expedition assembled, packed up food, gear, weapons, car keys, but no sex toys, and they set out to find Big Daddy.
Now she had a chance to find out what and who she was. Her excitement could not get any bigger. Not unless Rutger found that huge dildo she’d imagined.
Or Vargr decided to rejoin them—that too. She missed him, the asshole.
Chapter 5
The rippers had dragged something to the base of his remaining tentacles. It was the remains of his half-self, Hudex—the bits left after it had died. There was no evidence of the human suit left by then, not after it’d fallen miles to the ground, been carried away by scavengers and gnawed on, then hauled up the side of the scraper. This was barely a handful of his real tissue, burned by darkness, spat upon, shot, stabbed—the list went on.
“I will have my vengeance,” Avidex seethed. “I will.”
No matter how he tried to rearrange what there was of him, the thinking power was sadly lacking. With time, and feeding, he would regrow.
Time was not obtainable.
Avidex gazed upon the landscape of the Top story of this world, at the thinning mass of feeder humans. In the distance, the rising mounds of Queen tissue signaled the imminence of the breeding explosion. They would rise to the stars soon but without him, unless he could regrow. He could not. The part he needed to give to the burgeoning Queen had died below. A half of one’s body was the requirement. Without that a Ghoul Lord was not allowed to donate to the Queen process.
She had done this. That human female.
His need for revenge burned within him. The sweetness of added brain power when he’d used the previous human, the skin-suit one, had helped him to think and it had also tasted good to his tentacles. He snared a nearby drooling human, another female.
Would this work again?
First, he would feed and satiate himself. And so he inveigled his many tentacles into this one’s orifices, watching her scream and squirm and cry out, and moan. The pleasures and the pains and the many horrors inflicted soaked into his mind. Sweet, so very sweet human. With a final pump of his main tentacles into her mouth, ass, and vagina, he wrung a final climax from her and a last weak cry as her body failed. Then he began to consume her, piece by piece, starting at the cute toes. Blood squirted, gouted, and left her flaccid and lifeless, but not before he’d removed the brain, tenderly scooping it out and cradling it to him. He allowed it to sink into his body core.
He kept it alive, nestled in the jelly of his being, and when the shock of its death subsided, he let it join him in thought.
What is my best solution? I seek vengeance. He posed this question to his freshly caught brain.
More, it told him. More brains will help us think.
Ahhh. Of course.
And so Avidex harvested more brains from more unwilling feeder humans, savoring their emotions and fears as he went about the task of building himself into something bigger, smarter, more… skilled at defeating humans. The species they preyed upon often possessed the skills of self-defeat in abundance.
Ideas poured in.
Enlist your fellow Ghoul Lords by showing the dangers of humans. Make a skin-suit army. Create an attack to track the enemy. Gather information. Find the weaknesses of your enemy.
The Art of War from one brain, the training of a soldier from another, the general knowledge gleaned from yet another brain… it was all coming together nicely.
Oh my. Avidex twined tentacles and even clapped them together. Humans were fun things, after you ate them.
Other Ghoul Lords answered his call, and they listened to his plans to destroy the one dangerous human who had ever almost destroyed a Ghoul Lord. They slithered away to find their own feeders to harvest and turn into skin-suiters with the ability to brave the dark and broadcast the Lure.
He splayed out his half array of tentacles and declared bombastically, though in his mind-thoughts only—because he had no human voice-box at this current moment: “Our parting was such sweet, sweet sorrow but never mind, Cyn.” He knew her name now, having gleaned that much data from the incident below. “I’ll be back.”
Chapter 6
Cyn watched everyone pack into cars and trucks, and all the vehicles had their roofs ripped off so the bigger beasters could fit their heads. Honestly, she was half expecting these vehicles to groan and die. They had to be over their weight limit. The tops of wings projected above the roofs as well as some horns. The fuel was going run out within
a day but that was all they needed to negotiate this large roadway to the edge, where a covered bridge should let them travel across to the next quarter.
She counted them off. In the blue car behind this red one she stood beside were Locke, Kiko, Maura—she was dosed with a sedative and tied up so the Lure wouldn’t grab her—and lastly, Vargr. She didn’t expect him to come near her. He was still treating her as if she had a deadly infectious disease. She couldn’t really blame him, not entirely. Tom had been from Mercantor Quarter, and the small population there meant he and Vargr would’ve known each other well.
Friends, maybe? So, she’d killed a friend of his who was also a good man. Fucking bummer. Her gut twisted in self-disgust, but she controlled it. These were bad times. Bad things happened.
Her speculative examination of Vargr’s wing tips drifted lower, past the dividing line of the car’s roof where she was jolted to a stop by his eyes. He watched her, and such a mean stare. Her heart squeezed in, and she floundered into those memories of him caressing her gently and not-so-gently, of holding her in that shower while fucking her with water pouring over them. She wrenched away her gaze.
What will be will be. She would get him happy with her again, somehow. She had to.
God, she had to.
Then she continued with her observations of the convoy.
Twenty or so beasters she didn’t recognize were in two black trucks at the rear—most sat in the open back trays. They’d made the fat tires squeeze down and look ready to pop.
Willow, Rutger, and Mads Thresher, the wing-soldier judge, were in this car with her.
Not that long ago Mads and Willow had been ready to sentence her to death. This fast transition seemed surreal. Maybe they had easily cast off their previous attitudes to her, but she was floundering. Cyn rubbed her forehead and sighed.
What was this world she’d been reborn into that death was a minor matter? Everything that once was here in a neat pile had been blown away, or blown to smithereens, or just was not what it should be. This was a new and very odd world of darkness and despair. This road-trip to find out what she once had been, what she now was, and well… everything to do with Maelstrom, it made her feel lost.
BEAST HORDE TRILOGY BOXSET: MFM SciFi Romance Page 20