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--Tempest--

Honestly, it was about time she made up her mind. It was like her to ask permission, but I wished she felt comfortable enough to know she didn’t need to. Of all the things Cocoa was, the only one I hated was “the new girl”. She was one of us.

She laughed when I said it to her, later. She knew, but it was hard to just forget all the things she’d been taught before she got here. I guessed I understood. Still, she seemed to appreciate my saying so, and that was fine.

As for master, it was obvious he had fun. There was a kind of distant look in his eyes when he was sated like that. Like all the troubles of the world were, if only for a while, held at bay while he enjoyed the moment. I was happy for them, but it was over so quickly I couldn’t imagine it was going to keep him satisfied for long.

I gave it a bit, and snuck up on him, a teasing scratch at his thigh as I pulled away the towel. I didn’t waste any time, my nose brushing against his cock. It smelled like his soap, and her. When I was done, he was going to smell like me. I was going to satisfy him for the night.

A little sour, and a little bitter, the taste of his soap. The smell was overwhelmingly strong. It didn't smell like him at all, but it didn't matter. It was mine, right now. I hadn't been able to show him, all this time. I wanted him to see. I wanted him to know. I needed him to know what I really was for him.

I took a slow, deep breath, and down I went, deeper, and deeper. Until I gagged, until I choked, then I grabbed his hand, and shoved it hard on the back of my head. I held it there, held him there. I held myself down, struggling to swallow around him, and came up coughing and whimpering. But my eyes met his, and I saw it.

The way he stared down at me, the intensity, the way he gripped my fur. I saw it. There was something about it, about the way he moved, the way he moved me. It felt like I was a girl again, staring up at him, wondering how he wanted me.

His fingers traced over the scars, and brushed against the new bruises, still fresh from that little game of tag with the steelix.

Here and there, it hurt. It hurt, and I pushed into the touch, made it hurt more. All those pains were his. A gift to my mate. Nothing would touch him, not while he had me. He needed them out of his way, I was all too happy to make it happen, however I had to.

I would embrace that pain for him. But that was different than what I really wanted. As my claws raked lightly across his chest, leaving little red lines in their wake, I stared up at him, exposed, vulnerable.

"Promise me it's going to hurt." I wanted it. All the bruises and scrapes I got fighting for him... none of it felt as good as the ones he gave me himself. "Promise me."

He didn't say a word. Didn't have to. He showed me how it was going to be, shutting me up with his cock in my mouth. His hands gripped my shoulders and he stood up from the edge of the bed, pushing me until my back was against it before he really started.

I told Claire once that I wanted him to choke me. I never imagined how much I needed it. The feeling of his slick, twitching shaft forcing itself as far back as it could go. The way his heavy orbs swung against me. The way his hands gripped me, head and neck, pulling me into every thrust.

It made me gag, almost retch. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Tears welled up, and what strangled noise I even managed was a gurgling whimper as master… as my mate put me where I belonged. All I could do was close my eyes. My hands feebly gripped at his, pulling myself into it even harder.

It seemed to go on forever, my whole body ached and burned for breath, but I wasn't giving up. Not yet. My hands gripped his, as he abused me. As he hurt me. Fuck… I was about to… I was so close!

I felt it. His climax in my mouth, and tried to give him more, but my tongue couldn't move how I wanted, and to my dismay, he pulled out.

I thought I wasn't pleasing him right, until he moaned, and sprayed his thick, salt and sour seed all over my face.

It overwhelmed my senses, the scent, the heat. His scent. Stars above, his scent set my empty, needy sex on fire, the thought of his release all over me. Being marked with his hot cream. I left a puddle on the floor at his feet as I coughed and gasped for breath, but he didn't stop. He just laughed, and smeared his release against my face with his cock, and pushed me towards the bed.

I couldn’t think at all as I got onto the soft, plush surface. I just waited, looked up at him, my legs spread wide open, displaying myself for him. I only wanted one thing.

His hands wandered over me, shoved my hands back, pinning them above my head with a rough grasp. I squirmed, tried to struggle, but even if I really wanted to get out of it, he had me. He put me right where he wanted me, and that was that. I’d just have to wait and see what came next.

I had no idea, but I figured out his intent as he shoved himself inside me. No preparation at all. Deep and rough from the start, I gasped, and growled, the friction, the feeling of him hitting against me, deep inside, the way he held me down, and took me. It hurt, deep inside as I was forced to take him, all at once. He growled, and I was a trembling mess again. I was his!

His hand released mine, and he grabbed my legs, pushing me up and back. He forced me halfway from the bed. His hands made me curl up, legs near my head as he fucked me from above. I couldn't quite catch my breath, couldn't quite growl, but he still damn near had me howling.

I'd never felt like that before, the way he treated me... the only way I could explain it is to say it made me absolutely fixated on being a woman. Being his woman. We weren't just fucking. No. He was going to breed me. I wanted it. I needed it. I was his mate, I was going to give him children. He deserved strong children from a strong mate.

I was that mate. I proved it, didn't I? All of that was for him. All of it. I was his. And as he took me? He didn't just accept it in some meek, passive way. No. He TOOK me. He didn't need to say anything at all. I was his, end of discussion. I was his, and my whole body trembled as I gave myself over to him. It hurt, it stretched and pulled and tugged and my whole body protested. But I never wanted anything more.

My tail would always be raised for him. His seed belonged in me. Whenever, wherever, however he wanted it. I was lost in that knowledge, that yearning, that need. The way he pinned me down his hand bracing him against the wall as he pushed himself down into me, forced me open so deep inside, I loved it. I loved the way he was hurting me. I loved the way he was using me.

I was his woman, and I gave him something nobody else did. Nobody else could. The way we fucked proved it. He’d bruise me, inside, before he came, and I’d feel it every step of the way tomorrow. I wanted it. I wanted to feel it hurt!

It surprised me when he moved me again, hands taking my legs, pulling me down on my side and curling me up as he pounded me. It felt tight like that, every motion tugging at me in all the right ways. I whimpered, like I was still just a girl. Whimpered and whined and came to his rough torment. My claws scratched his arm and I smelled the blood I drew but he didn’t stop. No he only fucked me harder.

Suddenly, he stopped again, and pulled out. I was confused, stared at him, bewildered.

His hands on me shoved me over, onto my belly. He gripped my hips, pulling me up onto my knees, and penetrated me from behind. His hand shoved my head down against the bed, and all I could do was take it.

Take it, and beg. Beg him for it. For his seed, his children. Our children.

When I put voice to that need, he only seemed to get more intense, his hands gripped me tighter, pulled me into him so hard the bed frame groaned in protest. Fucked me so hard I couldn't breathe.

He was going to. He wanted to try.

I wanted to come, and I wanted to cry, and I was his. Every part of me was his. My bloody claws, my scarred face, my willing mouth… my womb… it was his. I was his.

I couldn't hold back, when he filled me. I howled, and climaxed, and pushed in hard to take that seed where it belonged.

My mate. My lover. My master. My everything. He wanted it, too. He wanted it as much as I did.

We held each other, panting in the afterglow, his hands wandered over me, caressing me, teasing the soft little mounds, and my nipples.

He stopped, after a moment, his hand slipping down further, to my belly, full of his seed, and aching from the hard, rough fuck we shared.

My hand rested on his, and in that moment, looking into his eyes, I fell in love all over again.

I knew, in my heart, that we couldn't. But if there were any way… I'd have given anything. For him, with him, strong children from strong parents. Like my mother, and hers before her.