Chapter 51: The Bull yanks his still-hard cock from Amy's gaping pussy with a wet pop, her transformed cunt clenching around nothing as his thick seed leaks down her thighs. He flips Gena onto her stomach without ceremony, spreading her jiggling ass cheeks to reveal her tight, fluttering hole. 'Your turn, slut,' he grunts, notching the swollen head of his cock against her entrance before slamming home in one brutal thrust. Gena screams into the mattress, her back arching as the Bull's massive girth stretche
The scent of our sex hung thick in the air, a primal perfume mixed with the jasmine from the vase on the nightstand. My body was a map of fresh aches, my cunt still throbbing from the brutal stretch and the searing heat of his seed planted deep inside. I watched, breath catching in my throat, as his attention turned to Gena.
He didn’t speak. He just rolled, his massive form shadowing her, and guided her onto her hands and knees. She moved with an innate grace, her back arching, presenting herself to him. The silver ring on her finger caught the soft light, a twin to my own.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice a husky plea. “I need to feel it, too. I need you to breed me.”
The Bull positioned himself behind her, his still-hard cock glistening with a mixture of my fluids and his. He rubbed the broad head against her slick folds, making her shudder. “This greedy little cunt was made for this,” he grunted, not to her, but as a statement of fact. “Opens up like a flower for me every time.”
He drove into her with a single, powerful thrust that stole her breath. She cried out, a sharp, beautiful sound, her body jolting forward. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white.
“Yes! Fuck, yes! So deep!”
He set a punishing rhythm from the start, his hips pistoning, his heavy balls slapping against her with each impact. The sight was mesmerizing, obscene. My daughter, her body trembling with each driving penetration, taking him with a ravenous hunger that mirrored my own. Her moans were continuous, a ragged soundtrack to the wet, meaty sounds of their coupling.
I reached out, my hand finding the small of her back. Her skin was fever-hot. She flinched at the touch, then pushed back against it, craving the connection. “Mother,” she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut. “Can you feel it? The magic… it’s… it’s humming.”
I could. A low, resonant thrum was building in the room, emanating from our joined bodies, from the life taking root in our wombs. It vibrated in my teeth.
The Bull’s pace became frantic, animalistic. He gripped Gena’s hips, his fingers leaving dark bruises on her pale skin. “Gonna lock you full,” he snarled, his voice guttural. “Gonna pump this demon cunt so full of my cum you’ll taste it for weeks.”
“Do it!” she screamed, her body bowing. “Knot me! I want to feel you swell inside me! I want to carry your child!”
With a final, ground-shaking roar, he slammed into her and held, his body rigid. I saw the base of his cock distend, the familiar, impossible knot forming and sealing him inside her. Gena’s whole body convulsed, a raw, screaming orgasm tearing through her as his release flooded her depths. Her internal muscles clenched around him, milking every last drop.
They collapsed together onto the soaked sheets, a tangled, breathing heap of spent flesh. The knot held them fast, a biological lock ensuring his seed remained where it was destined to be. The haunting melody from somewhere in the suite seemed to swell, harmonizing with the magical energy now saturating the air.
I lay beside them, my hand still on Gena’s back, feeling the subtle tremors that ran through her. The Bull’s eyes met mine over her shoulder. There was no softness, only a profound, territorial certainty. The deed was done. The garden was sown.
We stayed like that until the knot subsided. When he pulled out of Gena, the sound was a wet, final sigh. He rolled onto his back, his chest rising and falling steadily. The room was quiet save for our ragged breathing.
Gena turned onto her side, facing me. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, sated. She reached for my hand, our silver rings clicking softly together. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The understanding passed between us, as tangible as the new life quickening in our bellies. The challenge was over. The consequence had begun.