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I hear my moan, the sound of primal betrayal against all I pretended to be. When Isu touches me, penetrates me, I am alive in all the ways no woman is ever supposed to be.

“When are you going to admit the truth, Aspel? To yourself, or me?”

“What truth?”

“That you want me. That you want this. That you screamed and cried when you were rescued from my arms and that you inexorably found your way back to me, and my rule, knowing full well what I would do to you?”

What will he not do to me, that is the question. He pulls his cock free of my mouth, pushes me back onto the ground and spreads my legs, one big hand on each of my thighs as he pushes his cock inside me and holds it there, impaling me on the rock-hard pole of his heated flesh.

“I didn’t know you would do this to me,” I moan. “I thought you would be pleased to see me.”

He grips my throat and chin in his hand and glares down into my face with a dark gaze. “I am pleased to see you, Aspel. This is how it has to be between us. You are dangerous, just as the wyrm is. You don’t see your own danger, but I do. I see it in every part of you, your softness, your tenderness. I know what lurks inside that mind of yours.”

Isu moves inside me, slowly now, not with the rough motions that drove me to shameful public climax, but with tender dominance that unleashes deeper, darker confessions.

“Do you want to be free, Aspel?” He purrs the question against my neck as he fills me all the way up, my inner walls stretched tight around him, aching with familiarity.

“No.”

Isu is right. It is the small things that are the most dangerous. That word. Those two letters, it undoes everything.

Even after the roughness of our reuniting, I feel better in the dark with him than I did anywhere on Erf. I could have anything I wanted there, and I was miserable. I hungered for him. I understand the wyrm. I know what it is to try to fill a void that nothing can actually fill.

“No,” he repeats, shifting so he can glide in and out of me, make my body his all over again, claim my flesh for himself. I don’t know what parts of me are mine anymore. I don’t think any of them are; perhaps there is some small part of my mind that will forever belong to me, but my flesh, my body, my legs, arms, breasts, sex, they all belong to him. And he knows it. He has always known it.

He claims me to the point of completion, his thick flesh diving inside my own, plunging and pounding and making my soft sex swell up with my own juices and his hot desire. There are no words now; there is only the surrender that is more complete than any before it because there are no longer any lies between us. False resistance has burned away and the truth is laid bare, just like me. This is where I belong.

I feel rumbling in the earth beneath and I know that is the sound of a beast tunneling inside a virgin world. I know that the end has been brought along with a new beginning. I feel Isu’s love wrap around me, his fanged kiss drawing my essence forth, his cock plunging deep into my sweet wetness, the small pebble of my clit grinding against the rock-hard slab of his pelvis with every rough thrust.

He doesn’t need to control me, because I am his. Even if he were to set me free, chase me away, I would return because of this exquisite, cosmic connection that unites us over space and through time. I am his captive only because I lie to myself and tell myself that I want freedom. But what was freedom, but hollow slogans and intoxicants all designed to fill a void that does not exist when I am with him.

I scream with orgasm, every muscle shaking, every part of me contracting tight around him in the effort to draw forth his alien seed. I need to be filled with it, covered by it. I need it down my throat. I need to smell like him, be loved by him.

I writhe like a wild animal, caught at the pivotal point where his cock enters my body and anchors me deep to the ground. My sex pulses with his as Isu gives into the same urge and unleashes himself upon me, pulling free to let his hot seed coat my swollen sex and lower belly.

“Mine,” he growls. “Always mine,” he insists, slapping his seed against my pussy, rubbing it into my swollen lips with the head of his cock, making sure I am well coated and completely taken.


Tags: Loki Renard Romance