( he's stuck on her, and not just by way of his knot tying them together — it's everything. the induced psychosis of her nibbling bite, right where he wants them but never deep enough to be anything more than a siren's cruel, ceaseless torture. her flush cunt clenching around his like a pulsing grip, a direct contradiction to her words. her words, the word (pregnant), some centered orbit of paul's entirely sexuality wrapped around the sentiment, the thought, of that. alina's body turned home for the invention of their children. paul's tightened knot at her swollen entranced, ensuring its success. he can't imagine it won't work, it has to, it has to. regardless of anything alina says, it's the truth. she has to be pregnant, has to be. a biological certainty.
too early to tell, of course. the egg isn't fertilized, the cells aren't growing. but the thought of it — it really could make him cum again, if he wasn't still leaking out cum from two? three? orgasms prior. he's lost count, and they're all bleeding together, not one finishing before the other starts. he feels water flush, spoiled rotten with wet, cumming in alina, drooling on her shoulder, tears rolling down his cheeks from the sensation of orgasm after orgasm, of alina's teasing, of her perfect, necessary body beneath his. it's not a waste. like anything, it's a sacrifice — it's the whole lake of him, caladan salty oceans, it's his green paradise emptied out of him and poured into her. every dream he has, a hope for the future. watering alina until she springs new life.
he just — he has to do something, because he feels insane, rutting into her despite the lock, pushing his knot further, further into her. he pushes back, away from her mouth. a hand captures each of her wrists and pins them above her head, body forced into an arch, his free hand angling her chin away so he can nip, tease, suck, bruise her bloody bite, worshiping it with his tongue. )
But, Mommy — but I want you pregnant. I want a baby. That's what I want.
( the hand at her jaw slips, trailing down her sweaty body, back to the split of her sex, her squashed, swollen clit. bright pink from abuse, from arousal — he has to imagine his dick looks the same, though he can only see it from the slight distension of her flat, toned belly. paul whines, rubbing at her blushing cunt, purposely avoiding her clit. )
Just because you're done doesn't mean I am. If I keep going, you'll like it again. Promise. ( true to his word, he doesn't stop. he looks her in the eyes while he continues to fuck her, his knot — struggling, impossible, too tight, too tight — eventually slipping almost entirely inside her. ) 'lina. Can't be too much when you feel — this good. Feel how much of my cum you've earned already? It's exactly right. I get to have it, you get to take it.
( pointedly, he lays his throat back across her mouth, cooing ) Don't fight me. Be a good girl and have Daddy's babies. You don't have a choice. You don't get to tell me no. ( before meanly, aggressively, pinching at her clit with a shake, hoping the orgasm he pulls out of her is enough to break the skin on his mating gland. enough to claim him, the way he's claimed her. )
no subject
too early to tell, of course. the egg isn't fertilized, the cells aren't growing. but the thought of it — it really could make him cum again, if he wasn't still leaking out cum from two? three? orgasms prior. he's lost count, and they're all bleeding together, not one finishing before the other starts. he feels water flush, spoiled rotten with wet, cumming in alina, drooling on her shoulder, tears rolling down his cheeks from the sensation of orgasm after orgasm, of alina's teasing, of her perfect, necessary body beneath his. it's not a waste. like anything, it's a sacrifice — it's the whole lake of him, caladan salty oceans, it's his green paradise emptied out of him and poured into her. every dream he has, a hope for the future. watering alina until she springs new life.
he just — he has to do something, because he feels insane, rutting into her despite the lock, pushing his knot further, further into her. he pushes back, away from her mouth. a hand captures each of her wrists and pins them above her head, body forced into an arch, his free hand angling her chin away so he can nip, tease, suck, bruise her bloody bite, worshiping it with his tongue. )
But, Mommy — but I want you pregnant. I want a baby. That's what I want.
( the hand at her jaw slips, trailing down her sweaty body, back to the split of her sex, her squashed, swollen clit. bright pink from abuse, from arousal — he has to imagine his dick looks the same, though he can only see it from the slight distension of her flat, toned belly. paul whines, rubbing at her blushing cunt, purposely avoiding her clit. )
Just because you're done doesn't mean I am. If I keep going, you'll like it again. Promise. ( true to his word, he doesn't stop. he looks her in the eyes while he continues to fuck her, his knot — struggling, impossible, too tight, too tight — eventually slipping almost entirely inside her. ) 'lina. Can't be too much when you feel — this good. Feel how much of my cum you've earned already? It's exactly right. I get to have it, you get to take it.
( pointedly, he lays his throat back across her mouth, cooing ) Don't fight me. Be a good girl and have Daddy's babies. You don't have a choice. You don't get to tell me no. ( before meanly, aggressively, pinching at her clit with a shake, hoping the orgasm he pulls out of her is enough to break the skin on his mating gland. enough to claim him, the way he's claimed her. )