Chapter 17: The Bedside Confession
Victor carried her across the room with the care a man might give a fragile relic, both stitched arms wrapped around the vast, rolling weight of his own sack. Each step made the cum inside slosh against Graves's skin, a warm, syrupy tide that shifted her body inside him. She pressed her palms flat against the inner wall, feeling the grain of his stitched hide through the membrane.
The bed dipped under his weight when he climbed on. He settled back against the pillows with a low grunt, the headboard creaking as he adjusted. The angle changed everything. Graves slid forward inside his balls, her enormous belly rolling against her as gravity took hold. She gasped, the sound muffled, and her hair floated in the warm cum around her face.
His hand came to rest over the sack, huge and heavy, the heel of his palm cupping the bottom curve. His fingers spread wide, and she felt them through the skin, tracing the outline of her hip, her ribs, the swell of her distended stomach. His thumb found the crest of her belly and pressed there, gentle but firm.
"Such a sexy girl," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through the liquid around her. "Drinking all my cum until you're swollen and trapped inside my balls."
She felt the words travel through his body, through the membrane, through the cum, and settle in her bones. She turned her head and pressed her lips to the inner wall of his sack, right where his thumb kept tracing her shape. She moaned, long and low, the sound buzzing against him.
His thumb stilled. Then it moved again, slower, mapping her stomach from the underside of her ribs down to where her navel would press. The skin of his balls was taut and warm, and she could feel the faint thrum of his arcane stitching pulsing beneath her lips.
"I can feel you," he said, quieter now. "Every part of you. The weight of you."
She pushed her belly against his thumb, a silent demand. The cum inside her sloshed, and his sack swayed with the motion. His hand tightened around her, squeezing her from all sides, the pressure folding her body against the cum she had swallowed.
She pressed her lips harder against the wall, kissing him through the skin, and her hands clawed at the membrane, wanting to be closer, wanting to be felt. The liquid around her was warm and thick, coating her in his smell, his taste, the evidence of everything she had drunk.
His thumb kept circling her belly, the pressure rhythmic now, almost lazy. She felt the energy in him, the build he had warned her about. Even with his sack empty, his cock still stood hard somewhere above her, five feet of stitched muscle pulsing with contained arcane power.
"Your heart is beating," he said, wonder in his voice. "I can feel it through my balls. You're alive in there. Part of me now."
She pressed her palms flat and pushed outward, stretching the skin until her head made a distinct bulge against his hand. He traced the curve of her skull, her pigtails caught in the cum, plastered to her cheeks.
She wanted more. She always wanted more. She opened her mouth against the inner wall and sucked, drawing the membrane against her lips, tasting the salt and ozone of him through the skin. His whole body shuddered, and the shudder moved through the cum, pressing her from every direction.
His hand squeezed her again, harder this time, and she felt her belly compress against his palm. The weight of what she had drunk pressed back. She groaned, a deep, guttural sound, and pushed her stomach against his grip.
"That's it," he breathed. "Push back. Show me how full you are."
She did. She shoved her belly against his hand until the skin stretched thin, until she could feel the fine grain of his palm through the last layer of membrane. The cum inside her churned, heavy and thick, and she choked on a moan as the pressure built in her throat.
His fingers dug into the skin around her, gripping her body through his sack, cradling her like something precious and obscene. She pressed her lips to the wall again and sucked, desperate, and the low, wet sound of it filled the dark space around her.
She was his core. She was the swollen, sloshing heart inside his balls, and she was starving for more of him.