As the gushes peter out, a shudder ripples down my back. Little pants come from behind the gag. Her pussy still has a lock on me—I believe I have made matters worse.
“Ease up, lass, or I’ll have no choice but to take you roughly. Make no mistake, this knot is going in one way or the other.”
She grunts something behind the gag. Maybe a curse. I can’t see her face, tipped down over the battlement as she is, but I can almost see the brat rolling her eyes. She’s going to be doing morethan cursing me soon, and then she’ll come so fucking hard she’ll forgive me. Because that’s the way it goes.
I take a few tentative thrusts, and finally her pussy releases the stranglehold on my dick.
“Ah, you loosened up nicely. Time for you to take my knot.”
There’s a definite moan this time. Aye, this little beta lass has a dark streak that’s a match for every depraved desire I possess. And doesn’t that make her perfect in every blessed way?
Time to give her the rutting that she needs.
My hands move to clamp her waist, keeping the skirts up and out of the way. And then I let loose. I slam into her, fast and deep. The rapid slaps of our flesh meeting are lusty music to my ears.
Her moans turn wild behind the gag, and fuck, do I like that sound as well. It was fortuitous to put that gag in place. It gives me leave to fuck her hard and deep as I bang my swelling knot against her entrance, and then push it a small way in. And she’s just dangling there, taking it. She’s on her tiptoes, but she’s still trying to push back to get more of me… to get me deeper.
“Impatient brat,” I mutter, even as I love her eagerness. How it spurs me on to take her harder and rougher… to begin working the knot in and out. Her tight, slippery entrance, yielding as I slide in and then pull back out, is the sweetest form of torment.
Slap, slap, slap. The wet clapping sounds pick up, and the burgeoning knot begins to slide in and out with ease. Her cries turn hoarse behind the gag. She is coming, squeezing and clamping over me constantly. And I’m right behind her, reaching the point of no return.
My knot swells. For a moment, I panic that I have left it too late and it will not go fucking in. But I am resolved. Face contorted with determination, I grit my teeth and push. Her wails are barely contained by the gag. Then the knot pops in,locking us together, and that forces the head of my cock extra deep, driving it past the tight, rubbery wall of muscle.
Gods, I’m in deep, as deep as I can get—the head of my cock inside her womb.
It’s a form of tormented pain and pleasure, one that compels another climax from me. My balls tighten, cum gushes in heady spurts. “Ah, fuck! FUCK!” It is a rush unlike any other. Her body thrashes underneath me. I pin her to the battlement. She clamps and locks down tightly over me. And then the milking waves begin, over and over again, encouraging me to dump more of my cum right where it needs to go to breed her. Giving her fertile body what it desires most. Just acknowledging this makes the pleasure impossibly more.
My balls draw up, reaching for yet more cum. Her cries of pleasure turn to whimpers as I continue to seed her womb. That poor beta pussy is going to be sore by the time I’m done. Her belly will be swollen and distended, where I have filled her all up. Yet more gushes out in hot, heady spurts, weaker, and yet the pleasure is just as strong.
She fidgets.
“Keep still, lass, lest you pull the knot out. You wanted this. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
A little huff. She still twitches and fidgets occasionally, but otherwise she lies still. My cock is still spurting. The knot locks us together. My hands massage gently at the side of her waist. I lean down over her and slide one hand around the front of her throat where I can feel her pulse hammering. Carefully, I tug the gag down from between her teeth and press a kiss to the side of her cheek.
“Such a good girl.”
Her next exhale is full of fake outrage, and that makes me smile. The intimate nature of being locked together, the plateau to the pleasure, and the way my cock still spurts a gush ofcum periodically, her responding twitches, and the squeeze of her inner walls as she comes—all of it brings a great swell of tenderness within me even as it stirs my possessive alpha side.
“Take it like a good girl. You wanted to be bred, didn’t you?”
Even with the gag off, she doesn’t deign to answer me.
Little brat.
There are words gathering at the back of my throat. Dangerous words. Professions of love. The knot has a way of loosening more than a lass’s tight pussy—it loosens things in a man that are better kept bound, lest they risk the game.
I swallow them down. I’ve been waiting for this day. For her to be ready for me to breed her once again.
My lips skim down the side of her throat. The urge to bite is strong. To mark, to claim. And why shouldn’t I? She’s taken my knot. She’s been bred before by me, and by the old gods and the new, I sense she has been bred again.
The mating mark cannot be undone. It is the staking of a claim, the forging of a bond.
I restrain myself—just. I kiss her throat, teasing both of us. She shivers, and her pussy squeezes over me. But my knot is softening finally. It’s time to ease out and send this poor, sore lass back home so that she might catch a little rest this night.
I trail my lips up, kiss her cheek, her temple. She sighs, a sigh full of contentment, and then emits a sleepy yawn. I smile as I ease back, grasp her waist.
“Oh, no! Not yet.”
