Page 40 of Drown Me Gently (Flipped Fairytales)

Ulric laid him gently on the deck, the rain cooling his flushed skin as tentacles braced around them, shielding them like petals of a monstrous bloom. Ulric loomed above him, gaze burning.

“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want this,” Ulric said, voice breaking with emotion. “Let me have you. All of you.”

Auren’s heart thundered. “You already do.”

Ulric lined himself up, pressing the head of his cock against Auren’s hole. The stretch was immediate. Shocking.

“Breathe through it,” Ulric coached, kissing his jaw. “You can do it.”

“Th- there is no way I ca—,” Auren whimpered.

“You can. But if you want me to stop, say the word, and I swear to you I will.”

Auren shook his head. “No. Let me… let me keep trying.”

Ulric nodded patiently as he pushed deeper—inch by inch—allowing time for Auren’s body to stretch, to adjust. The slick helped. It wasn’t just lubricant, it also soothed. Numbed. Transformed pain into a slow-burning, heady pleasure.

Each time Auren thought he was full, Ulric gave him more. Another inch. Another breathless sound. Another dizzying wave of sensation.

When Ulric’s hips finally met his ass, Auren was gasping, eyes wide, hands gripping at the tentacles that cradled him.

“Oh gods… oh fuck… I can feel it in my throat?—”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Ulric laughed. “But look at you. You’ve taken all of me. You’re perfect. You’re mine.”

Auren looked down and whimpered at the sight of them joined—so obscene, so impossible. And yet… his cock was already hard again, dribbling onto his stomach.

“Are you sure, my prince?”

“Move,” Auren begged. “Please. Move.”

Ulric obeyed.

He started slow, a gentle withdrawal, then slid back in with sinful precision. Again. And again. Auren’s cries rose with every thrust, his body singing with overstimulation and hunger. Each push hit deeper, each pull made his body clench harder.

“Ulric… fuck me,” he moaned. “Wreck me. Brand me from the inside out.”

Ulric’s growl was a weapon, vibrating through Auren’s chest.

“You’ll feel me for days, spriteling. You’ll dream of this stretch, this fullness. No one else will ever touch you here again.”

He flipped Auren over, guiding him onto hands and knees. Tentacles coiled around his thighs, his wrists, his waist. One looped around his throat, not choking, but a reminder of who held him. Who owned him.

Ulric plunged back in, and Auren cried out, forehead pressed to the soaked deck as his body was driven forward with each thrust. The tentacles held him firm, kept him spread, kept him grounded.

He dared to look down—and gasped.

His belly bulged with every punishing bottom-out. The visual broke something open inside him.

“Oh fuck—Ulric—you’re gonna break through me?—”

“This body of yours,” Ulric snarled, never breaking pace, “was made to take me. To withstand me. To beg for me.”

Auren reached between his legs, touching that bulge in his stomach and pressing against it, moaning at the electric spark it sent through his core.

“I’m gonna—Ulric—gods?—”

“I’m close,” Ulric growled, voice shattering. “I need—fuck—I need to come inside you.”

“Do it,” Auren sobbed. “Flood me. Fill me. I want all of you—every last drop?—”

Ulric roared and slammed home one final time.

Heat exploded inside Auren as Ulric came—wave after wave of molten release pouring into him.

It was too much. He felt it spill into his guts.

Felt his belly swell, the sheer volume of it stretching his insides to their limits.

His own cock jerked and Auren came again, untouched, shuddering violently as his ass clenched around the twitching mass still sheathed inside him.

When Ulric finally pulled out with a slick, wet sound, Auren collapsed flat to the deck, trembling in a puddle of rain and semen. Milky white dribbled from his spent hole in a slow, lazy stream. He lay there, gasping, body twitching with aftershocks, cheek against the cool wood.

Ulric gathered him into his arms, whispering soft praise. “You were perfect. So good. So strong, my prince.” He held Auren close, letting the rain wash over them, fingers brushing through his wet hair. “Talk to me,” Ulric said softly. “Spriteling… you haven’t said a word. Was I too much?”

Auren shook his head with a lazy smile. “No. I was just thinking…”

“Mm?”

“…I can’t wait for the next storm.”

Ulric barked a laugh, wrapping him tighter.

They cleaned up—sharing sweet kisses, trading gentle touches. Iska returned long enough for a nuzzle and a knowing chirp before diving again.

Once the deck had been thoroughly washed by rain and Ulric shifted back into his human form, they dressed and opened the hatches.

The crew returned to their stations, none the wiser—at least, not visibly.

As they set sail back toward the mainland, wind in their hair and sea at their backs, Ulric smirked.

“Think the thunder was loud enough to cover your moaning, little siren?”

Auren turned red. “Gods. Maybe next time we come out here alone. You think we can manage the ship by ourselves?”

Ulric leaned in, kissed his cheek. “Together, my prince… we can do anything.”

And the ship, gleaming with salt and promise, carried them home.