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She was just so soft, pretty, and fragile to my brutality. I had always lived my life alone, the only companionship being my staff. And having Belle here made me feel… alive.
But being alone worked. It was easier that way, less judgment, less staring and speculation, rumors and fear.
For long moments, I did nothing but stare at Belle, appreciating her human complexity, the strength she showed me with her laughter, even though I knew she was afraid. She took this situation that was forced upon her and made the best of it.
My cock was hard, throbbing, the front of my trews already damp from the copious amounts of pre-cum seeping from the tip.
I should not have loosened the top.
I certainly should not have reached in and curled my paw around the thick, ribbed flesh and pulled it out.
And I really should not have thanked Mother Nature for causing a breeze that blew at the perfect moment, which caused the skirting of her dress to sweep up her thick, creamy thighs so they were on clear display.
I growled low and slammed a paw on the windowsill so hard the wood cracked from the force. My breathing increased as my pleasure grew.
The smile on Belle’s face as she found pleasure feeding the birds turned me on, and I felt the thick, copious amount of seed seeping from my cock and falling onto the floor.
I ran my palm over the head, growling at how good that felt, smearing my cum around and making my cock slick as I jerked off.
The sound of it dripping was obscene but made me growl as I got even more aroused.
I ran my big, meaty hand over the girthy length, mindful of my claws as I stroked myself.
The ridges around my shaft grew harder, filling with blood. I imagined thrusting into her and making Belle take every heavy inch, knowing it would hurt her, but picturing her crying out and clutching me, telling me she couldn’t take anymore.
But I would not be able to stop. She’d feel too good, and in return, I would bring her pleasures she had never dreamed of until soon she would be telling me not to stop.
I ran my thumb over the nodule at the top of my cock head, knowing the firm piece of tissue would become harder and rub her from the inside out, reaching hidden places until she came all over me, gushing on me and making a mess the same way I would when I got off.
I grunted and groaned, growling louder, one of my paws curled around the windowsill frame, my claws tearing at the wood, splinters digging into my flesh.
The entire time I stared at Belle, watching as she slowly stood and started sprinkling seed on the grass, as she bent over and her plump, round ass was in perfect view.
I would fuck her there too, part those plump cheeks, lick and spit on her asshole, getting it all nice and wet before I made sure to spray my cum on the tight entrance. I wanted her primed for my cock, so she would be covered in seed by the time I slid in deep.
My dick swelled even further, a thicker rib in the center of my length expanding and filling with blood. Once I was deep in her, the center of my cock would swell to the point I’d be locked inside. The knotting mechanism would ensure my cum stayed deep inside of her and took in her womb.
With that image in mind, I growled so loud the window shook from the force and I came, hot, thick jets of my milky white cum spraying the wall and floor, my balls so full of my seed that my orgasm made a puddle on the ground, dripping from the slit at the tip.
Those ridges that ran around my cock pulsed, causing even more cum to pump out.
Belle glanced over at the castle, her gaze finding the window from which I watched her.
She would not be able to see me from the distance, but I looked into her face, my body giving a big shudder as the last ounce of my semen spurted out of me and made a big mess on the floor at my feet.
My barreled chest rose and fell harshly as I caught my breath, my focus never leaving Belle as I watched her gather her things and head inside.
My tail whipped back and forth, sexual agitation filling me once more because coming hadn’t eased my need in the slightest.
I could not hold back from claiming her for much longer. I could not be gentle or soft and sweet like she deserved.
I was very much the monster and animal she saw before her.
Maybe being soft or gentle and giving her space wasn’t the right move. Maybe she needed to see that my desire for her was a living, breathing animal within me?
Perhaps she needed the dominance of my touch and words to bring her to me?
And the sooner I claimed, marked, and knotted her, the sooner she would be filled with my seed and grow big with my young.
And then she would be irrevocably mine.
