Page 66 of His Runaway Mate

“Ow!” I gasp, as his fingers swat between my opened thighs, catching me with a firm slap right across my lower lips.

Now he’s really spanking every part of me, and the way I feel when he slaps my pussy is the most intense sexual thing I have ever endured. It feels as though I am being punished and pleasured at once. Every stinging slap makes my hips buck and my ass lift, and then he spanks my ass and the heat flashes all the way through me right to my sex.

“It hurts!” I complain. “That’s my pussy!”

“Yes. It is,” he says firmly, swatting my pussy again with another one of those stinging slaps. “But it’s also my pussy, and I’m going to punish this naughty little hole before I fuck it. Both of them, actually. You may as well know before you take my cock in this tight little ass.”

The promise of my erotic undoing has the desired effect. I am nervous and I am turned on. I know I am in trouble, but I also know that the punishment is going to be as good as it hurts.

He moves me onto the bed and crouches over me, continuing to spank my ass, thighs, and pussy while I crawl away from him in the hopeless effort to escape.

It’s never going to happen. He grips me, holds me down, pins me, and then he fucks my pussy.

Every time he thrusts inside me, I feel my body grip him, my swollen, spanked lips gripping his cock as he uses me with stern strokes.

“How dare you run from me,” he growls. “How dare you take yourself away from me to somewhere I can’t breed you. I’m going to have to fill this pussy up several times today just to make up for it. I hope you’re ready for this naughty hole to be knotted.”

His knot is already starting to fill inside me. I close my eyes and let the pleasure wash through me. Being bred by Rex makes me feel so completely reclaimed. I didn’t realize how much my foray into the wild had taken from me.

I want to be his. I want to feel him own me. I need to feel his dominance and his possession.

He does not disappoint me. He pins me in place and his knot swells inside me, trapping me on his cock and keeping me in place for the insemination. I am being bred.

Rex’s teeth are on the back of my neck, biting down hard enough for me to feel them sinking into my skin. There is no doubt who I belong to now, as mating chemicals course through my blood and my entire body responds to his breeding.

He comes inside me with a snarling series of thrusts that can barely make any motion inside me. I am spread too wide. He is too big. His seed is delivered to the very neck of my womb, and I know that when he is done with me this time, I will be pregnant.

* * *

Rex

Locked inside her tight little cunt, I feel my seed filling her up in thick ropes that have nowhere to go but deep inside her. Breeding my mate is the most satisfying, bonding, loving experience I have ever had, though from the outside it looks rough and primal.

I have her pinned on the bed, unable to go anywhere. Stuck beneath me, she cannot even writhe in the adorable way she does when I give her a little more space. She will take my cock and she will take my cum and that is the end of it.

As my knot softens and my seed does its work, I pull out of her.

“That is the first round,” I tell her. “There will be many more before I let you out of this room.”

She makes one of those soft little animal sounds of submission, and does not move. Her legs are slightly spread already, but I open them more for the pleasure of watching the excess come sliding slowly out of her cock-punished hole.

I feel much better now, knowing I have bred her and that she has been reclaimed. I know she didn’t mate with anybody else when she was on the run, but she was influenced by the world outside my pack. She was taken from me, and now she is back.

I call Fescue to bring refreshments to the door. Nobody else will come inside my mating sanctuary before I have thoroughly punished and bred my mate. I feel a kind of intense, passionate, guarding instinct that I intend to lean into.

He brings food and leaves it at the door with a light tap. I pick it up and deliver it to the bed, where Nicky is just starting to come to her senses.

“Eat,” I say.

It is not a suggestion.

When she inevitably picks at the food, I pick up a fork and bring it to her lips. “I want your strength up,” I tell her. “If you’re going to grow my pups, you’ll have to be properly nourished.”

She sits up and allows me to feed her. Her expression is soft and sweet, and—though I barely dare think the word—submissive.

We eat together in the quiet aftermath of our rutting. I feed her most of the meal, but I take a few mouthfuls myself. There is something sacred about the peace of not having to worry about anything besides focusing on her.

“You are beautiful,” I tell her. “And you are wild, and there is nothing particularly tamable about you, and there probably never will be. But I am going to keep you as best as I can because I want nothing more than to have you by my side as my mate. You are the most alive, most precious, intoxicating little creature I have ever encountered. I have loved you from the first moment I met you, and the more I learn about you, the more I come to love you.”