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Fragile.
Damaged.
Sinadim slung his right arm up, tucking it behind his head as he settled in to watch. Letting his claws extend where she couldn’t see, he hid the eager tremor that raced through his sinew. Disguised the fury at her past treatment with a careful smile.
“Please,” she murmured, licking cracked lips. Growing bold as she began to gush for him. “I ache. My prince, I need… I need a knot.” She paused. Licked her lips. “Your knot.”
“Show me,” he said. Cock bloated and stiff despite her poor condition. Reacting to the scent of slick, for he’d gone too long without. His harem left to the eunuchs and matrons in his absence.
Eager to obey, she leaned back. Spread her knees wide as they might go before she reached and let two fingers slip through the glistening lips of that tiny, puffy slit to show him where she ached.
Sinadim let go a held breath before it was his turn to reach. Careful, moving with tender precision, he slid one rough hand up the length of her thigh until he met her fingers. Tracing the same path her digits had taken, he found her apex. His thumb met the bead of her clit and teased it free from its hood.
She surprised him, then.
Closing the distance between them, she traced his lips with fingers soaked in slick. Made him taste, and put an end to the teasing, for with an excited huff, she spun in the bedding.
Braced on hands and knees, spread and clenching before him.
Assuming the position she’d been trained to assume, for Hathorians were bred from the back.
Pressing her chest to the sparse bedding between his ankles, she flicked her kinked tail aside as best she could and revealed all that was pink and glistening.
She let him look.
The taste of her danced on his tongue. Surged through his blood as a mild rut filled him with vigor.
On the cusp of a true heat—ripe, but not yet fertile enough to catch his seed and make it grow—she posed no threat of sending him into a natural rut that would consume him for days on end. Couldn’t enslave him to her cunt and leave him mindless with desperate, insatiable want.
Still…
He was a prince. Rarely without the oils and herbs needed to breed a prolific harem—and never without the desire. Pausing only long enough to slick his length in Kesh, greasing his cock with enough oil to give her the first dose, he worked his prick to the sight before him.
“Spread it,” he said, pumping in slow, confident pulls. “Show me exactly what Veli will never see again. Touch what he will never hurt again.”
He watched her flinch. Used her master’s name just to watch her asshole dance for him. Desensitizing her to a male he’d freed her from.
A male who would never again hurt or bruise or break.
She sent one trembling hand back. Peeling herself apart to obey. Voice muffled against the bedroll, she whispered, “Please, my prince. Here. I need you right here.”
Two dainty fingers worked inside, then. A tight fit and a crooked angle, despite how slender those feminine digits might have been.
At the sight, Sinadim laughed, low and cruel. “Oh, pet. This is going to take some work, my brave girl. Tell me,” he murmured and knelt behind her. Prying her fingers free as his grip replaced hers. “Have you ever been bred before?”
“Y-Yes,” she stammered, her poor, broken tail flicking aside. Trying to entice. “I bore two litters for my Mast—for Ve-Veli.”
Sinadim pressed his tip against her. Teasing the rim of her pussy with a thickness that made her gasp before she mewled.
“I knew he was pathetic,” Sinadim said and set a gentle rhythm without forcing the flare of his tip through that tight band. “I held that sad little cock in my fist,” he drawled, spreading her cheeks so he could watch when the lips of her cunt went bloodless and pale as he played at her entrance. “Knew he was a pathetic, wilted old man. But I had no idea he was all but incapable of satisfying an Omega in heat.”
She whined. Begging with her body. Trying to push back and impale herself. “Wh-What do you mean?”
“Patience, little one,” he cooed. Forcing her still with one heavy palm on her lower back. Making her arch and open to his advances, he sent his palm forward. Tracing the etchings marking her spine. “I’ll give you what you came for. Breed you properly, and give you a knot that will let you forget Veli once and for all.”
“Yes!” she gasped, putting the bulk of her weight back. Stretching her hamstrings as she tried to impale herself. “Please!”
“But first,” Sinadim cooed, “you’ll have to be prepared. Stretched so you don’t tear.”
