Page 25 of Taken (After the End #6)

Chapter Fifteen

Lacchus

We stand beneath the spray of water—hot water—while the female owelay—Rhen, my mate—continues to talk without end.

She tells me of a place that existed where we are standing, thousands of years ago.

Too many generations of Vironai ancestors have come and gone for this history to have been remembered, kept and passed on by our tribe.

I don’t want to believe her, but I could no longer doubt her when she took me from room to room, showing me records made up of images that appeared like magic, suspended by nothing.

She called them holographs, and they depicted towering cities, a word that does not exist in our tongue but that I try to mimic in hers, much to her delight.

She touched me each time I tried to say a word in her language, which only made me want to learn all of them.

Then she brought me to a small room full of stalls made out of a strange, unnatural material.

The stalls were small and I didn’t like being in this confined space—at first—but as water poured from the ceiling and she stepped beneath it, tilting her face up toward a sun whose violence cannot find us down here, I began to sink into the comfort of her sighs and smiles.

She said, “Can you help me out of this?” And I clawed my way through her garments, shedding mine as well before stepping beneath the spray with her.

“And that’s how I ended up being a part of the Sucere Project,” she finishes with a sigh. “And how I jeopardized the mission by getting caught by your tribe. The Vir-one-ay?” she tries.

I smile, taking what she calls shampoo from her hand and squeezing the substance that looks like frex-frex insides into my palm.

I massage it into her hair, and she closes her eyes and moans in a way that makes my already half-erect cock harden fully.

The tip presses against her belly and she gasps and tries to look down, but I hold her where she is, controlling her with my fist in her curls.

“Veer-ohn-eye,” I repeat, bending over her and pressing my lips to her forehead. “You are now a Vironai female, mated to an Mpo warrior.”

“I am.” She smiles in a way that I find irresistible. “What is Mpo?”

“Generations ago, our Vironai ancestors began experimenting on its population in the hopes of producing a stronger generation of warriors, more capable of protecting themselves and the tribe. The successful experiments are the Mpo. I am descended of these experiments, strong enough to protect my tribe. Strong enough to protect you.”

In a rough move, I spin her around and push her forward. She catches herself by bracing her hands on the wall of the stall and releases a soft, encouraging gasp. “And when I breed you and my seed takes, our children will be Mpo, too.”

“They will?” she asks, arching her back and letting the spray of the water cascade down her spine.

“All Mpo have produced Mpo, even those who have mated with stolen flesh prizes, with weaker tribes, with little owelay like you.”

The hot water smooths my hair down my back, plastering it to my scaled shoulders and exposed skin.

It feels decadent. The tears of the sun.

I stroke my hand up her back to reach the nape of her neck.

I offer it a squeeze as I rope an arm beneath her hips and lift her feet clear off the ground. She gasps.

“Support your torso against this flimsy excuse for a wall, if you can.”

She does as she’s told and I maneuver her hips like a toy for my pleasure until her core is lined up on my cock.

I use the pointed tip of my erection to press against her mons, spread her lips, slip inside her…

Only the head of my erection has entered her, but it doesn’t matter.

The invasion is just as tight, hot, dripping fucking wet as the first time.

We groan together as I maneuver her hips with my left hand, holding her by the throat with my right.

“Rhen,” I hiss, struggling to keep the pressure of my hand on her neck light. “I’m not even sure I could have dreamed you. You are too perfect.” I push inside of her a little deeper.

She’s panting now, her arms shaking, her throat working underneath my palm as she struggles. “Lacchus, you have no idea…I feel the same…”

I bottom out, seating myself entirely up to her fleshy ass.

I let go of her throat only long enough to smack her behind.

She jolts and looks over her shoulder at me with a lazy, languid smile.

She looks drunk. I feel drunk. I can scarcely believe she feels the same way for me that I do for her.

I can scarcely believe how I do feel about her.

I’ve only just learned her name, yet I feel as if I know her. Have always known her.

“Harder, Lacchus.”

I cannot help but laugh as I thrust into her tiny body hard enough to nearly take down the stall wall.

I switch her body around so that her hands plant against the one stable wall in this place, grab her neck again and then thrust into her with purpose.

And that purpose? To breed a little Mpo offspring into her womb.

I lean over so that my scales scrape her skin. I pull the knot of her hair over her shoulder so that I can reach her cheek. Using my hand on her throat, I tilt her face to mine and ravage her mouth, leaving her lips puckered and swollen. She’s insatiable and chases me when I break away from her.

Her pitiful little mewl wrecks me and I speak gruffly into the mane of her hair, “I fucking love breeding your precious little cunt.”

“Oh fuck…Lacchus,” she cries out. “You’re stretching me so much. I love the way you feel inside me. So fucking huge…”

Her words spike my adrenaline and I am overcome by a momentary surge of anger that I did not bring her back here the moment I discovered her.

I’ve spent all these days not enjoying these filthy things she has to tell me, worried that she wasn’t enjoying my touch and that she was only fucking me for the monster that I could become.

And now…she’s asking me to wreck her with all my monstrosity. And I will. Gladly.

I keep my thrusts short and powerful as I slam into her, my voice rougher than the sandstorm raging above as I say, “You’re the perfect place to put my seed. Your body made just for me, for my pleasure.”

She moans high and tight, her voice a tinny thread as she whispers, “Just as yours…was made for me…”

I groan, lean forward and sink my fangs deep into the side of her neck.

She screams and I might have felt concern at her pitch if I didn’t simultaneously feel her shake beneath me, her core clenching tight, capturing my lust and holding it close.

I drink from her. Not a lot, but enough to wet my tongue, to ensure that her essence enters and infects my bloodstream, making me hers, just as I release venom and intend to release seed into her, marking her as mine for the dozenth time.

I work her through orgasm after orgasm, lengthening my thrusts and sliding in and out of her dripping core methodically, even as keeping a steady rhythm becomes painful.

My arm supporting her weight shifts, my hand moving to slide over her clit as I use only the muscles of my upper arm to support her.

I have to admit that even with her slight figure, I still have to shift my arm into my Mpo form to hold her up entirely with my hand as I flick my fingers quickly over her clit.

“Lacchus! Porra! I’m coming again!” Her face squeezes together, her freckled cheeks tinting pink beneath the robust brown color that’s only gotten darker and more beautiful as she’s spent time in the tribe—or fighting her way across the Barrens.

The squeeze of her orgasm around the length of my erection borders on painful and I know that I either have to stop and wait for the urge to come to settle or ride through this orgasm with her. In the end, the choice is made for me.

I collapse, bringing her with me as I fall onto my knees.

I position her underneath me on all fours and rut into her like a feral animal while water from above cascades over my shoulders and splatters across her brown, freckled back.

I slap her backside, the sound of my hand on her skin made even more electric by the water between us.

She arches, tilting her face up to the light.

“Such an eager little whore,” I preen.

She gasps, her voice choppy, made even more so by the delay in the translation. “Your whore. I want your cum. Please, Lacchus. Fill me.”

“You want my seed, greedy little owelay?”

“Yes. I want it all. I want to be full with it. Only me. No one else.”

“There is no one else.” I drop onto one hand, covering her back with my chest, while my other hand continues working at her clit. “I am yours.”

She comes, or perhaps her orgasm never ended, and I can’t hold back anymore. Seed explodes from my cock to fill her body, wetting her already wet insides. Taking her for everything she is. Branding her forever.

I keep pistoning my hips, moving my cock in and out of her, while at the same time keeping up the motion of my hand on her most sensitive flesh. Eventually as her pussy continues to squeeze around my cock, I lose rhythm, lose myself…can no longer remember my own name, let alone how to fuck.

I roar up into the flat ceiling studded with eerie lights and promise myself that the next time I fuck her, it will be beneath the stars. “Rhen,” I say somewhere in the midst of my pleasure.

I vaguely hear my name shouted back as we crest together. My body hardens to stone as I come and come and continue coming until my latches open and my cock expands, filling her up and causing her to scream in delight, just as she has every time I’ve knotted her.

My barbs inflate, and I fill her full, as she requested, so full that when I reach around to press against her belly, I can feel the slight bulge. I can pet the outline of my cock through her skin. I’m so fucking huge inside of her and she’s such a good little breeder to take me like this.

I voice the thought aloud, and she whimpers, but doesn’t respond. Her arms are shaking, and I coo softly to calm her as I lift her from the hard stone floor and bring her against my chest, the blood on her neck already clotting, the remaining streaks winding across her back and down the drain.

I make a clicking sound in the back of my throat to soothe her as I maneuver her onto my lap, her legs draped over my knees, her clit on display as I spread her out over my chest and lean back onto my hands so that the spray of water from overhead pours down her stomach.

“You take my seed so well. Such a good little cum bucket. Do you feel how full you are with it?” I whisper in her ear.

“Uh huh.” She makes an unintelligible sound, but she smiles and presses the back of her head farther into my pectoral, nuzzling me in reverse.

I comb her hair off her forehead and bring our faces close together. “Tell me how it feels for you.”

She smiles. “Impossibly full. But like I could stay like this forever.”

“You’re so full, you’re spilling.” I reach down between her legs and brush my fingertip through the thick, milky white paste leaking out of her. I bring it to her lips. “We can’t have that.”

She licks my center finger below the claw, her tongue peeking out and laving over every inch of the digit, which is nearly the length of her face.

She licks it until it sparkles with her saliva and when she’s done, I swoop in and suck her tongue into my mouth.

I cup her neck, my palm cradling the bloody bite marks.

They’ll heal quickly and the venom will relax her—is relaxing her.

I can feel her body sagging deeply against mine.

“It tingles,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

“Where?”

“Here.” Her fingers dance over her low belly, over the outline of my erection.

“And here.” Her fingers travel up between her ribs, over each of her breasts.

I take one in my hand and squeeze. She clenches, her toes point, her legs try to pull together, but mine prop hers apart.

“But mostly here,” she sighs, and she kills me when she lays her hand over her heart.