Chapter 48: Reclaiming What's Hers
The man’s body was a dead weight on top of me, cold and already stiffening. I pushed against his shoulder, my arms trembling, needing his emptiness away from me. Gena’s hand was still on my stomach, her touch electric, the connection between our rings a humming, live wire.
Then the light from the rings didn't just glow; it detonated.
A silent, concussive wave of pure white energy erupted from our joined hands, slamming into the walls. The roses on the nightstand blackened and crumbled to dust in an instant. The plush furnishings warped, the wood of the four-poster bed groaning as if in agony. The air itself thickened, humming with a power that stole my breath and pressed down on my chest.
The corpse atop me began to change.
It started as a vibration, a deep, subsonic rumble that emanated from his core. His skin, which had been pale and waxy, darkened to a deep, weathered bronze. I scrambled out from under him, my back hitting the headboard, Gena pulling me close. We watched, paralyzed, as his limbs stretched, muscles swelling and knotting under the skin with a series of wet, tearing sounds. He grew, his shoulders broadening, his height increasing until he seemed to fill the space on the bed, a giant of sculpted, brutal power.
His face… it was no longer the face of the hiker. It was sharper, more bestial, with a strong jaw and a cruel, sensual mouth. When his eyes opened, they burned with a deep, amber light, pupils slitted like a cat’s. He sat up, the movement fluid and impossibly graceful for his new size, and looked directly at us.
A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest. “Mine.”
This wasn’t the desperate, dying man from before. This was something else entirely. A primeval force. A breeding bull, perfected.
He reached for Gena first, his large hand enveloping her arm. He didn’t yank or drag her; he simply pulled her to him as if she weighed nothing, his intent clear and unchallengeable. He turned her, bending her over the side of the bed, her hands flat on the rumpled sheets. Her long hair cascaded down her back, and she let out a shaky, anticipatory breath.
“Yes,” she whispered, arching her back, presenting herself to him.
He didn’t need to spit or slick himself. His cock, now monstrously thick and veined, jutted out from a thatch of dark hair, glistening with a faint, pearlescent sheen. He positioned the broad, flushed head at her entrance, and with a single, powerful thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her to the hilt.
Gena screamed, a raw, piercing sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. “Fuck! Oh, god, yes!”
He set a punishing rhythm immediately, each thrust a deliberate, powerful piston stroke that shook the entire bed frame. The sound was wet and meaty, the slap of his flesh against hers echoing in the transformed room. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, holding her immobile as he fucked into her with relentless, brutal efficiency.
“This cunt was made for this,” he grunted, his voice a deep, vibrating baritone that felt like it came from the earth itself. “To take my seed. To stretch around me. You feel that, witch? You feel how deep I am?”
“I feel it!” Gena cried out, her voice breaking. “I feel you in my womb! Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”
He leaned over her, his mouth finding the juncture of her neck and shoulder, biting down not enough to break the skin but enough to make her gasp and shudder. His other hand slid around her hip, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing rough, frantic circles.
“Gonna come,” she sobbed, her body tightening. “I’m gonna come all over your fucking cock!”
“Do it,” he commanded, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more focused. “Soak me. Then I’ll fill this fertile little cunt until it overflows.”
With a guttural shout, Gena climaxed, her inner muscles clamping down on him in a violent, rhythmic pulsing. Her body went rigid, then limp, held up only by his grip on her hips.
He didn’t slow down. He fucked her through her orgasm, driving into her until, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, he jammed himself deep and held. I saw the muscles in his powerful ass clench, and I knew he was pumping another torrent of his potent seed into her, claiming her all over again.
He pulled out of her, his cock slick and gleaming, still impossibly hard. Gena slumped onto the bed, panting, a dazed, blissful smile on her face.
Then his burning amber eyes locked onto me.
He moved across the bed with a predator's grace. I tried to scramble away, but my back was against the headboard. There was nowhere to go. He loomed over me, his size blocking out the light, his scent—musky, primal, and overwhelmingly male—filling my senses.
“Your turn,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
He grabbed my ankles and pulled, dragging me down the bed until I was flat on my back. He shoved my legs apart, his gaze raking over my exposed body. I was still wet, sensitive, the memory of his first claiming a fresh, aching wound.
He didn’t enter me slowly. He drove into me in one savage, tearing thrust that made me cry out, my back arching off the bed. The feeling of being filled by him now, in this transformed state, was overwhelming. It was too much, stretching me to my absolute limit, a painful, breathtaking fullness.
“Oh, god,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“No god here,” he growled, setting a relentless, deep rhythm. “Just me. And this perfect, hungry cunt.” He leaned down, his mouth capturing mine in a brutal, claiming kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, mimicking the thrusting of his cock below.
I was losing myself. The pain was morphing into a pleasure so intense it felt like dying. My body, against my will, began to move with his, meeting his thrusts, my hips rising to take him deeper.
“That’s it,” he rasped against my lips. “Take all of it. Your body knows what it needs. It knows it was made for my cock.”
His words were filthy, degrading, and they sent another shock of arousal through me. He was right. My body was betraying me, welcoming this violation, this raw, animalistic breeding.
“Fuck me,” I heard myself beg, the words a ragged whisper. “Breed me. Do it.”
A dark, triumphant smile touched his lips. He changed his angle, hitting a spot deep inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids. My climax built, a terrifying wave about to crash.
“I’m gonna come,” I warned him, my voice strangled.
“Come,” he commanded, his thrusts becoming punishingly fast and hard. “Come all over my cock. Then I’ll pump my seed so deep into your womb, it’ll take root forever.”
That was all it took. My orgasm shattered me, a convulsive, screaming release that ripped through every nerve ending. I felt my channel clenching around his massive girth, milking him, pulling the release from him.
With a final, deep, grounding thrust, he roared, and I felt the hot, urgent flood of his essence jetting into me, wave after wave after seemingly endless wave, filling me until I felt bloated, claimed, and utterly, completely his.
He collapsed atop me, his massive body a heavy, breathing weight. The amber light in his eyes had dimmed to a soft glow. He nuzzled into my neck, his breath hot on my skin.
Gena crawled over to us, her movements slow and sated. She curled against his side, her hand resting on my hip, over the place where his seed was already working its magic. The three of us lay there, tangled together in the wreckage of the room, a silent, breathing circuit.
The garden was not just planted. It was being violently, relentlessly cultivated.