Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Rex’s teeth are on the back of my neck, biting down hard enough for me to feel them sinking into my skin. There is no doubt who I belong to now, as mating chemicals course through my blood and my entire body responds to his breeding.
He comes inside me with a snarling series of thrusts that can barely make any motion inside me. I am spread too wide. He is too big. His seed is delivered to the very neck of my womb, and I know that when he is done with me this time, I will be pregnant.
* * *
Rex
Locked inside her tight little cunt, I feel my seed filling her up in thick ropes that have nowhere to go but deep inside her. Breeding my mate is the most satisfying, bonding, loving experience I have ever had, though from the outside it looks rough and primal.
I have her pinned on the bed, unable to go anywhere. Stuck beneath me, she cannot even writhe in the adorable way she does when I give her a little more space. She will take my cock and she will take my cum and that is the end of it.
As my knot softens and my seed does its work, I pull out of her.
“That is the first round,” I tell her. “There will be many more before I let you out of this room.”
She makes one of those soft little animal sounds of submission, and does not move. Her legs are slightly spread already, but I open them more for the pleasure of watching the excess come sliding slowly out of her cock-punished hole.
I feel much better now, knowing I have bred her and that she has been reclaimed. I know she didn’t mate with anybody else when she was on the run, but she was influenced by the world outside my pack. She was taken from me, and now she is back.
I call Fescue to bring refreshments to the door. Nobody else will come inside my mating sanctuary before I have thoroughly punished and bred my mate. I feel a kind of intense, passionate, guarding instinct that I intend to lean into.
He brings food and leaves it at the door with a light tap. I pick it up and deliver it to the bed, where Nicky is just starting to come to her senses.
“Eat,” I say.
It is not a suggestion.
When she inevitably picks at the food, I pick up a fork and bring it to her lips. “I want your strength up,” I tell her. “If you’re going to grow my pups, you’ll have to be properly nourished.”
She sits up and allows me to feed her. Her expression is soft and sweet, and—though I barely dare think the word—submissive.
We eat together in the quiet aftermath of our rutting. I feed her most of the meal, but I take a few mouthfuls myself. There is something sacred about the peace of not having to worry about anything besides focusing on her.
“You are beautiful,” I tell her. “And you are wild, and there is nothing particularly tamable about you, and there probably never will be. But I am going to keep you as best as I can because I want nothing more than to have you by my side as my mate. You are the most alive, most precious, intoxicating little creature I have ever encountered. I have loved you from the first moment I met you, and the more I learn about you, the more I come to love you.”
She looks at me and her eyes gleam as they fill with tears. I so rarely see the softer emotion in her.
“But you know where I came from. And you know… you think I ate a truck driver.”
“You said you didn’t and I believe you. And frankly, sweetheart, you could eat a dozen truck drivers and I would not feel any differently about you. I love you. I adore you. You are everything to me.”
“Even though I’m a monster?”
“You are not a monster.”
“My father is.”
“Your father is sick. That’s why we don’t eat people. Humans make wolves sick if they are consumed. It’s not healthy. All sorts of diseases pass between us. He needs medical treatment.”
“You’re giving him medicine?”
We are giving him a lot of things. A hell of a beating first among them, but that is not all. The man has been an absolute nightmare to handle, but he is the least of my concerns now.
“If you did eat any,” I say, “you don’t have to worry. Self-defense is not the same as being feral. It would be best if you told me if you did take a little bite. The driver was eaten, the report says.”
“Maybe. But not by me,” she says.
“You can tell me if you took an experimental bite. I would not judge you.”