Page 41 of To Free a Soul (Duskwalker Beginnings #2)

When she opened her pesky mouth to say something, Weldir pinched her nipple and clit at the same time, making her words choke in her throat.

“I’d like to try something different.” A tendril formed in front of them, then thickened to the size of his thumb – if not a little more. With his fingers, he spread her cunt open for easy access. “You did say you’d prefer a tendril, didn’t you?”

“I know that’s what I said, but–”

Yes, yes, he was aware that likely wasn’t the case anymore. Didn’t mean he wasn’t still furious over it.

Before she could finish speaking, he shoved it inside her until it bottomed out and the long length of it bent sideways.

A strangled moan escaped her, and then more whispered past her lips when he thrust it deep while his fingers teased her clit.

He pulled the hood back so he could nestle behind it, then moved his digits side to side.

In an instant, her hips tried to buck as her jaw fell, her lips parted, and her eyes clenched shut.

Pleased with himself that he’d been conserving his mana just for this, he made more tendrils form.

One wrapped around her waist and hips to stop them from moving, not allowing her even a millimetre, so she could suffer in stillness.

He wrapped another around the breast his hand wasn’t kneading, spiralling around it until the brown hardened peak was tightly trapped.

“There, is that better, Lindiwe?” Weldir uttered softly as he scraped his fangs against the side of her neck.

“Oh fuck ,” she rasped with a shiver, as she bent her head to the side to escape his voice. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her face pinched, and her moans grew more frantic as his hands and tendrils played with every sensitive spot on her body all at once.

It was incredibly satisfying to observe his body around hers from behind, while she was on display, trapped in his chalky black arms or tendrils, all of it shimmering with dark glitter and mist. His onyx eyes were glossy against the matte of his appearance, as were his segmented, tapered horns.

“Oh god. Oh god , that feels so good,” she rasped out.

Lost to pleasure, she’d never looked as beautiful as she did right then.

The growl that reverberated around his void was deep and beastly. “The only god you belong to is me,” he rumbled against the side of her throat as he made another thicker tendril form. “And I much prefer it when you moan my name.”

He squeezed the new tendril inside her full cunt, and her body put up a brief fight, then relented against his strength, and he gave her no room to reject it.

Even if she felt a bite of pain from being overstretched, with both of them attacking, she could do little more than give herself over to pleasure.

He moved them individually, making sure they were hooked forward, so they’d grind against the tender spot inside her.

Now that she’d already climaxed once, the second one came easier.

She cried out his name, and Weldir rewarded her with a nip of his fangs, his fingers pressing harder against her clit.

Liquid squelched out of her and dripped down his tendrils until drops flicked off from the quick, snaking movements.

She fought the others holding her in place, needing to buck, squirm, and grab something, but she could do little more than be trapped as her hands opened and closed.

He watched the intricate details of her body, the ones that only intensified with every passing second.

How her heart thumped around him and fluttered underneath her skin so frantically, so erratically, he was surprised it didn’t give out and cease its rhythmic drumming.

How she grew flushed when her lungs seized, her lips squeaking out a pitiful noise, before her complexion returned to its beautiful, healthy brown when she caught her breath.

How perspiration dotted her forehead and coated her skin in a thin layer that made her glisten.

Every twitch, no matter how tiny, drew his attentive gaze.

That was until her tear-lined eyes, so unique and often sharp, met his, and she stared at him with a semi-lucid hold.

He found it difficult to look away.

I’ve never had her meet my gaze like this before.

It made it... different. More intimate in a way he’d never thought possible. The corners of her lips even quirked upwards, like she tried to smile but couldn’t muster the will beyond her bliss and her next moan. Her third orgasm nearly made her eyes cross.

“Weldir,” she cried softly, her features pinching in anguish as she came back down from her climax. “I don’t think I can take any more.”

But he wasn’t quite done. She wasn’t broken enough, nor had she soothed his anger fully. “Beg,” Weldir demanded.

The betrayed look that overtook her face was cute. “What?” she whispered.

“You haven’t apologised to me. I was quite wounded, Lindiwe. You stole away my fun .” He nuzzled his nose and lips against her neck. “Beg me to stop. Plead until I’m satisfied, while I fuck your little cunt with the tendrils you so rudely prefer.”

To show her he was serious, his tendrils working her pussy and his fingers petting her clit only went harder. He considered stuffing a third limb of mana inside her but thought she might not be able to handle it. Two already seemed overly girthy for her, since her hole looked stretched around them.

“No,” she tried to bite out. It came out rather quiet and pitiful.

“Then so be it. I won’t stop until you do.”

It was all in her control, even if he was dubious about it.

Admittedly, though, she wasn’t as wet as before, and wasn’t producing enough slick to make for an easy glide. Yet he knew this female. If she had even a drop to give, she didn’t wish to stop, and she knew exactly how to make this all cease if she really wanted it to.

All she had to do was give in.

“I need to use my essence to lubricate you,” Weldir told her, figuring the use of two tendrils had aided this dryness quicker than normal. “Is that alright?”

She bit her lip. It took her a moment, but she eventually nodded. He almost wanted to laugh.

Did she want to stop? Didn’t she? A vexingly confusing woman as always, but for once, he found it rather fun.

She let out a squeak when he coated her insides with his essence, his seed. Whether this resulted in anything or not, Weldir didn’t care. It wasn’t the reason he’d done it.

Though he may have given her much more than usual to ensure she remained lubricated, since the pearlescent, whiteish-grey liquid leaked from her and dripped down his tendrils.

It coated down to her backside and even seeped up her slit.

He dipped his fingertips into it so he could slicken his touch against her clit.

Since Weldir couldn’t feel, he didn’t slow due to tiredness, nor have his own end to worry about. If she really wanted, he could have suspended this moment for all eternity, never ceasing or requiring a break.

He could be as stubborn as her.

So when her next orgasm took her, something shifted within him. She would give him what he wanted eventually, surely she knew that, but the fact that she wanted to draw this out elicited an unknown emotion in his mind. She was... his, trapped in his hold, his touch, his mind’s will, and his realm.

“The next time you want pleasure, Lindiwe, tell me,” he muttered against her hair. “If you want this, it doesn’t have to result in an offspring. I’m quite content to do this, to touch your body and make it moan, make it orgasm.”

He didn’t have much to look forward to, much to anticipate. He didn’t feel tenderness or joy in much, but he found it in these embraces. He adored how her gaze went from heated to exceptionally soft afterwards.

When she didn’t say anything, and he was unsure if her nod was just the result of her body constantly arching, Weldir released her breast to gently touch her lips. “Speak. Answer me.”

“Okay,” she whispered against his fingers.

He slipped his hand lower to cup her throat lightly and drew his clawed thumb down her rapidly pulsing jugular, tickling it to make her breath hitch.

The game truly began when their stubbornness met in battle and fought ruthlessly. She wouldn’t bend to his will and submit, and Weldir refused to relinquish his prize until she did.

He grazed his fangs across her neck as he made one last tendril form, this one mimicking the spiralling hold the other had on her breast. The soft flesh of her ample mounds moulded around each thin limb, and he pulsated them to make it feel as though he was kneading them, while the ends pinched or swirled around her nipples.

He even made their tips meet her peaks to touch them softly in little circles, much like she’d done in the beginning.

Doing so had her chest arching forward constantly.

He was quite content with his fingers along her slit, and he pushed down so her clit was nestled against the webbing of his index and middle finger. His clawless fingertips wetly slid along the sides of her opening, and occasionally he spread her further for his own view.

Palming his free hand from her throat down her body hard enough that she dipped towards his torso, he placed it low on her pelvis.

“Did you know your body moves here?” He slid his hand to the side to caress where movement shifted forward and back. “A noticeable bulge forms, showing just how full you are of me.”

He shoved both his thick tendrils deep, and a small lump protruded from within. Her back snapped into an arch, and her head tipped to moan into his void. Her shaking only worsened when he pumped them together as one, deep but slow, so she could perceive their every movement.

A whimper escaped her pretty lips. She fought against the limbs holding her in place, her arms constantly pulling and yanking to be freed, as her legs tried to kick.

He gave her hips just a little bit of movement, and she turned into a needy thing.

She bucked against his fingers and into the tendrils to quicken their thrusting inside her.

The moment he noticed her tells, those intricate details that informed him she was about to come, Weldir quickened the pace of everything to get her there faster.

Cutting his claws across her skin, he left behind lines but didn’t slice her delicate flesh as he caressed her pelvis, her hip, then up her spine. The cry that left her was shaky and unbidden.

And as that orgasm ended, Weldir still didn’t relent, even when she stayed tense in his hold. Even as every part of her tried to escape, tried to get away rather than squirming for more. She bit her bottom lip so hard he worried she’d draw blood.

“Oh god! Please. I can’t take any more.”

With a snarl, he grazed his fangs along her flesh. “ That is not my name, Lindiwe. You are mine, and if I have to keep going until you remember that, I fucking will.”

Her eyes crinkled. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s a good start, owlet.”

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Please. I’m sorry, Weldir.” She sobbed out a whimper. “I’m sorry. Just... please . No more.”

Within the span of one of her frantic heartbeats, Weldir’s tendrils dissipated and dissolved into nothingness. He let her go, and she turned, grasped his shoulders, and melted against him.

He’d expected perhaps a little bit of anger, or for her to shy away from him after he tortured her.

Instead, she curled into him to the point that he needed to cradle her in his arms, and with tear-stained cheeks, wept languidly. Finding it peculiar, but not unwanted, Weldir... held her, and embraced her in the solidness he could still maintain, bringing her that bit closer.

It didn’t take long, perhaps a few minutes, but her eyelids eventually slid shut. As she slowly drifted off to sleep, she murmured, “Please don’t heal me.”

Taken aback by her request and their position, he was unsure what to do with her now.

Do I... keep holding her?

He didn’t want to let go.