“Fighting now? After begging for days?”
“You're different. Rougher.”
“This is what you've been begging for. The real me. Not controlled. Not careful. The predator your body recognized at the portal. You chose the Hunt, chose to run, chose to be caught. This is what being caught means.”
His tail wraps around my wrists, pulling them behind my back. I'm completely helpless now. Pressed down, spread open, restrained. My body floods with wetness despite my mind's panic.
I feel the head of his breeding cock at my entrance. It's impossibly large. The size of my fist at least.
“Too big?—”
He pushes inside. Just the first ridge, but I scream. It's too much. Too intense. My body stretches beyond what should be possible.
“Your body was made for this. Made when you drank the tonic. Made to take exactly this.”
The second ridge. I try to crawl away, but his weight and tail keep me pinned. The third ridge enters and I sob into the furs—not from pain but from overwhelming sensation.
“Too much. Please, it's too intense?—”
“You're taking it perfectly. So wet for me. Dripping. You know you want this.”
He's right. Despite the stretch, despite the overwhelming fullness, I'm wetter than I've ever been. My body betraying my mind's panic—or maybe fulfilling what it's wanted all along.
The fourth ridge. Fifth. Each one wider than the last. I can feel my belly distending, pushed out by his massive cock.
“Feel that? How deep I am? I'm reshaping you. Claiming you from the inside. This is what you chose when you rejected comfort for this.”
His pleasure cock slides through my wetness, finding my clit. It wraps around the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulsing with those glowing patterns. The dual sensation—intense stretch and electric pleasure—scrambles my brain.
“Please—”
“Please what? Deeper? Harder? Your body knows even if your mouth won't say it.”
He's right. My mouth says it's too much but my body pushes back, trying to take more. The sixth ridge enters me and I come without warning, clenching around him so hard he groans.
“That's it. Show me how much you want this. How much your body needs exactly this.”
The seventh ridge. Eighth. I'm babbling now, words that don't make sense. His tail releases my wrists only to wraparound my throat instead, pulling my head back at an angle that makes him sink even deeper.
“Two more ridges. Then the knot.”
“Knot?” The word comes out strangled.
“The base. It swells once I'm fully inside. Locks us together. Keeps every drop of my seed inside you while I breed you properly. What your body has been preparing for since you took the tonic.”
“I don't know if I'm ready?—”
The ninth ridge silences me. The tenth breaks something in my mind. Then I feel the base of his cock, thick but not yet swollen, push inside.
“All of it. You're taking all of me. Knew you could. Knew you were perfect for this.”
He starts to move. Long, brutal strokes that drag every ridge against every nerve ending. The wet sounds we make are obscene. His precum mixes with my wetness, creating a mess that eases his thrusts but doesn't reduce the intensity.
His pleasure cock tightens around my clit, vibrating in pulses that match his thrusts. I come again, and again, rolling orgasms that blend together.
“Now,” he growls. “Now you learn what knotting means.”
I feel it starting. The base of his cock swelling inside me.
