Page 53 of The Thren's Fated

“How beautiful it is to hear my name on your lips,” Screl said, his voice soft, though the wicked gleam had returned to his eyes. “And now it is time to claim you as mine.”

Lena raised her eyebrows in shock as he urged her backwards into the soft moss. After lying down beside her, he tilted her onto her side and pulled her flush against his chest. Firm ridges massaged her back as he spread her legs, positioning his upper cock at her entrance. Excitement coursed through her as tentacles surged over her body, squeezing her breasts and sliding down to brush over her stomach.

Screl ran the shaft through her slit, wetting himself with her arousal. Lena was already shuddering as the tip prodded at her, moaning and moving her hips back though he held her in place with powerful arms. A warm, rubbery tentacle circled her clit as Screl tilted her head toward him, pressing kisses to her cheek and jaw.

With a grunt, he pushed his way inside, eyes gleaming as he focused on her flushed face, her mouth agape with desire. The ridges brushed deliciously over her interior, stirring the arousal deep in her core. He gripped her around the middle, holding her in place until he seated himself inside her.

Screl rested for a moment, his lower cock lying absurdly along her thigh and throbbing with its own need. Lena reached for it, tracing her fingers over the blue-gray skin, ridged in a way that stimulated her so perfectly. When he pulled out and drove back in, she whimpered, a sharp cry escaping her lips.

“Does that please you, little one?”

“Yes, Yavriel.”

He groaned and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying hearing his personal name just as much as she enjoyed saying it.

“What a good girl you are,” Screl cooed, picking up his pace, driving his hips into her with each thrust.

The slap of their bodies connecting drowned out the gentle churning noise of the waterfall, her fingers on his cock speeding up as he did the same inside her. When she peeked back up at him, his piercing eyes made it difficult to concentrate on what was happening in her pussy, devouring her with just a look. Each thrust brought her closer to the edge, a thrall to his touch, his gaze, his presence.

“Are you ready to be claimed?”

She nodded, no longer caring what that meant, just wanting to be his.

“Say it,” he growled, a tentacle slinking around her neck and circling loosely.

“Yes, I want to be claimed.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“Y-You,” she breathed, the word difficult to say with the tentacle at her throat.

“Say my name.”

“Yavriel.”

He responded with a low groan before tightening the tentacle, her eyes widening as she tried to breathe. Screl loosened his grip, then tensed it once more, eliciting a low moan from her that reverberated back into him.

Lena rocked backward, meeting his thrusts as best she could as he helped her along with the grip at her waist. She writhed against him, on the brink of another climax, and his grip tightened on her throat once more, the prickly sensation of lightheadedness increasing her building pleasure. He was using her like a doll, moving her around like she weighed nothing.

And she loved it.

Why the fuck was this so hot?

Screl groaned, his panting breaths getting louder and louder. Before she knew what was happening, he was pulling away, and she cried out from the stark emptiness of her cunt.

But she wasn’t going to be empty for long, glancing down to see a tentacle gathering her slick arousal and painting it over his second cock. She trembled as the two lengths prodded at her entrance, spreading her wide in a sight so grotesque it should have made her sick.

But all it did was swell the arousal burning through her, her desperation for him knowing no bounds. He stretched her more than she’d ever been stretched before and she gasped in deep breaths, trying to relax her muscles.

Screl gave her shallow thrusts, giving her time to adjust as he fucked her with two cocks, the ridges raking across her tender spot and dotting her vision with gray. She whimpered, unsure how much more of him she could take.

“I can’t,” she breathed, wincing at the streaks of pain melding with the pulse of pleasure.

“You can,” he growled, using a tentacle to tilt her face toward his. “You will take as much of me as I give you. We will be joined. You were made for me.”

There was an odd doubling of pleasure as he picked up his pace, the tentacle resuming its circled vibration at her clit and the thin tendrils that extended from his groin caressing her skin.

It was as if Screl was echoing her arousal, a perpetual wave washing back and forth as her stimulation moved to him and back to her. She could hear nothing over the sound of her own heartbeat, spellbound by the unique feeling.