Page 18

"Going to breed you thoroughly," he pants, control fragmenting as rut claims him. "Fill you so full there's no question you'll conceive."

The words should terrify me. Instead, they send fresh arousal flooding between us, my heat-crazed body responding to breeding promises with eager preparation. The clinical part of my mind knows he's right—heat this intense, claiming this complete, seed this abundant. Pregnancy is virtually guaranteed.

Shame burns through me at my response, at how my hips cant upward seeking deeper penetration, at how my muscles pulse around him in rhythms designed to draw his essence toward my womb. The disconnect between mind and body has never felt so complete, so humiliating.

The sucker increases pressure on my clit, pulling with intensity that builds toward something I can't resist. Dual stimulation pushes me toward a peak that feels different from previous orgasms—deeper, more significant, connected to something beyond mere physical pleasure.

When it hits, the climax tears through me with devastating force. Muscles contract so violently it borders on pain, pleasure radiating outward from my core in waves that fragment consciousness. My vision splinters, awareness narrowing to points where our bodies connect.

I cry out—raw, primal sound that echoes off cave walls. The distinctive omega completion call that signals surrender on the deepest biological level.

"Beautiful," Vex groans, thrusts never slowing despite my convulsions around him. "But we're just beginning."

He shifts angle slightly, the change allowing him to hit spots that send shockwaves through my system. His tail tightens fractionally around my throat, pressure triggering something inomega hindbrain programming. Submission. Acceptance. Alpha dominance recognized and welcomed.

The combination drives me toward another peak before the first has fully subsided.

"Too much," I gasp, though I'm not sure if I'm begging for mercy or more. "Can't take?—"

"You can," he insists, wings now fully enveloping us, creating enclosed space that concentrates our mingled scents. "Your body knows its purpose."

The second orgasm crashes through me with even greater intensity, muscles clamping around his thrusting length with force that draws groans from both of us. A keening sound tears from my throat—pure omega surrender that signals complete biological capitulation.

When his knot begins expanding, my body responds with instinctive precision. Internal muscles relax to accommodate the swelling, then clench to draw it deeper, securing the biological tie that ensures breeding success. The pressure stretches me beyond anything previous claimings achieved.

"Taking my knot perfectly," he growls, grinding to seat it completely. "Made for this. Made for bonding."

The knot reaches its full size, locking us together with biological inevitability. Pressure against my entrance sends continuous pleasure-pain signals while fullness inside creates sensation against places that trigger cascading responses I can't control.

He leans forward, chest pressing against my back, and then his teeth find the junction of my neck and shoulder. But this bite is different. Deeper. More deliberate. Teeth sink with surgical precision, not just breaking skin but holding position as something flows from his mouth into the wound.

Pain transcends anything I've experienced—sharp, burning, transformative. This isn't simple claiming bite but somethingmore permanent. Through the haze of agony-pleasure, I recognize what's happening. Blood bond claiming. The rarest and most permanent form of Prime marking.

"Bonding you to my bloodline," he growls against the wound, saliva mixing with my blood, creating chemical reactions that alter tissue at cellular level. "Not just claimed. Transformed."

The blood bond combines with knot pressure and sucker stimulation to trigger a third climax that shatters remaining defenses. This one feels different—deeper, connected to something beyond physical pleasure. Consciousness fragments as my body responds with omega completion beyond anything I've experienced.

His release floods me in powerful surges, each pulse triggering smaller aftershocks. Volume that defies human comparison—evolution ensuring successful conception through sheer abundance. Pressure creates fullness beyond physical stretch, my abdomen visibly distending.

"Every drop stays inside," he groans, grinding deeper to ensure nothing escapes. "Perfect omega. Perfect breeding bond."

The knotting extends far beyond previous claimings. Twenty minutes becomes thirty, then forty, his body delivering multiple waves throughout. The sucker maintains relentless attention, forcing additional smaller climaxes that leave me whimpering incoherently.

While locked together, he creates additional bites across my collarbone in deliberate pattern. Each puncture sends more bonding compounds into my system. Through sensation haze, I recognize the design—perfect match to the mountain range boundaries from his territory map.

Marking me as his domain. Literally.

Time dissolves as we remain joined. My body shudders through responses I can't control while his wings curve protectively around us, tail possessively wrapped around mythroat, teeth occasionally refreshing the blood bond. The combination keeps me in heat-drunk submission that bypasses conscious resistance entirely.

When awareness finally returns, something fundamental has changed. Colors seem more vivid, scents more complex. I can distinguish information layers in air that were previously inaccessible. The blood bond has altered more than appearance—it's changed perception, biology, perhaps fundamental nature itself.

His knot has barely begun receding, our bodies still locked by biological imperative. I feel the abundance inside me, feel changes already beginning, feel almost certain conception taking place. My medical training calculates odds with clinical precision: peak fertility heat, multiple knotting with abundant delivery, blood bond enhancing reproductive compatibility.

Pregnancy is virtually guaranteed.

The knowledge should horrify me. Instead, it creates confused emotional mixture—fear and resignation, shame and secret satisfaction, resistance and acceptance. My body has fulfilled omega purpose despite mental rebellion, and some deep part responds to that completion with unwanted contentment.

"The blood bond marks heal differently," he tells me, voice gentler now, rumbling through his chest into my back. "They don't fade like normal bites. The scent bonding is permanent. Any Prime who encounters you will know you're blood-bound to Chimeric Dominator."