Chapter 118: Mating With The Snake 1
18+ Warning: Graphic sexual content, aphrodisiac influence, dubious consent, biting, and blood.
The pollen was everywhere.
It drifted from the glowing flowers in thick golden clouds, coating the surface of the warm water, clinging to Swanly’s skin, sliding into her lungs with every ragged breath.
The system’s warning still pulsed somewhere in the back of her mind, but the words had lost all meaning.
Her thoughts had gone soft and liquid, melting under a heat that started low in her belly and spread outward until her entire body felt like it was burning from the inside.
She needed.
She needed so badly it hurt.
Her clothes were already half-off. She didn’t remember pulling them away. The wet hide top floated somewhere near the edge of the water.
Her bottoms hung from one ankle. She kicked them free and sank deeper into the glowing pool, naked skin sliding against silver stone and warm water. Her white fox ears twitched with every new wave of scent. Her fluffy tail thrashed behind her, heavy and restless.
Kael’s face flashed through her mind.
His golden eyes. His arms around her. The mating mark on her ribs.
I can’t.
The thought survived for one heartbeat.
Then another wave of heat tore through her, crushing everything beneath the pain.
"Please..."
The word slipped out of her mouth without permission. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears—hoarse, needy, broken.
Her hands moved on their own. She cupped her own breasts, squeezing, pinching her nipples until the sharp little sparks of sensation made her gasp.
It wasn’t enough. Nothing she did to herself was enough. The heat between her legs pulsed harder, wetter, her folds slick and swollen and aching for something thicker than her fingers.
She pressed two fingers inside herself and nearly sobbed at how empty it still felt.
The flowers opened wider.
More pollen poured into the air.
The golden dust sank into her skin, into her blood, into the scale on her wrist that still carried Soren’s scale. The bond flared white-hot. Her back arched. A broken moan tore out of her throat.
Then the wall exploded.
Stone and dust and pale venom filled the air. Soren’s massive white form crashed through the broken barrier, scales gleaming under the bioluminescent light.
His silver eyes locked onto her instantly—onto her naked body, onto the way her fingers were still buried between her thighs, onto the desperate, open-mouthed expression on her face.
The pollen hit him like a second impact.
His damaged core, already cracked and bleeding black, seized on the scent of her. On the heat pouring off her skin. On the fact that she was his. Marked. His. And in full mating distress.
Soren’s body shifted mid-lunge.
White scales melted into pale skin. Long white hair spilled over broad shoulders. His frame remained tall, powerful, elegant even in the water, but the lower half of him... changed.
Between his legs, two thick, pale cocks rose hard and heavy, the upper one slightly longer, the lower one ridged along the underside. Both of them throbbed visibly, already slick at the tips with a clear, viscous fluid that mixed with the glowing water.
He didn’t speak.
He couldn’t.
Some distant part of him understood what this would mean.
The rest did not care.
His mind was drowning beneath pollen, pain, and the savage need to stop his core from tearing itself apart.
Swanly reached for him first.
He answered.
The pollen and the broken core and the sight of her had stripped language from him.
He reached her in two long strides through the water.
The moment his hands closed around her waist, the world ignited.
Swanly cried out as pure, blinding heat ripped through both of them. Her arms flew around his neck. Her legs wrapped around his hips.
Their mouths crashed together in a messy, desperate kiss that tasted like blood and pollen and need. Soren’s tongue slid against hers, deep and claiming.
One of his hands fisted in her wet white hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her harder. The other hand gripped her ass, fingers digging into soft flesh as he ground both of his cocks against her slick folds.
"Please," she sobbed against his mouth. "Please, please, it hurts—Soren, please—"
He growled low in his throat, the sound more snake than man, and bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw a thin bead of blood.
Then his mouth was on her neck, sucking, biting, leaving dark marks over the pulse point that raced under her skin. He kissed down her throat, over her collarbone, lower.
His tongue circled one tight nipple, then sucked it into his mouth with rough, wet pulls that made her thighs clamp harder around him.
Swanly’s head fell back. Her fingers tangled in his long white hair.
"More—please—inside, I need—"
Soren didn’t give her what she asked for yet.
He lifted her higher, set her on the smooth silver ledge at the edge of the water, and spread her thighs wide with both hands.
The golden pollen still clung to her skin, glowing faintly against her flushed body. He stared at her open, dripping cunt for one long, hungry second.
Then he lowered his head and licked a long, slow stripe from her entrance all the way up to her swollen clit.
Swanly screamed.
Her hips jerked. Her tail thrashed against the stone. Soren held her down and did it again, slower this time, tasting every drop of her.
He closed his mouth over her clit and sucked hard while two long fingers pushed inside her, curling, stroking the spot that made her vision white out. The dual sensation—hot mouth and thick fingers—ripped a broken sob from her chest.
"Soren—fuck—please—"
He added a third finger. Stretched her open. Ate her like he was starving. The wet, filthy sounds of his tongue and the way her cunt clenched around his fingers filled the glowing grotto.
Swanly’s thighs shook. Her ears flattened. She came hard, gushing against his mouth, crying out his name in a voice that cracked in the middle.
Soren didn’t stop.
He licked her through it, through the aftershocks, until she was twitching and oversensitive and still somehow needing more.
Only then did he rise back up her body, kissing her stomach, her ribs, the mating mark that pulsed under his tongue. When he reached her mouth again, she could taste herself on his lips.
He flipped her over.