Page 18 of Dragon's Captive

"You can," he insists, scales darkening from obsidian to something deeper as his control slips further. "Youwill."

The dual penetration begins with brutal determination, his twin shafts pressing forward together now. The stretch is beyond comprehension—a burning, tearing sensation combined with overwhelming pressure. I sob with pain despite the wetness flowing from me in omega preparation. My inner walls spasm around the intrusion, confused signals of agony and pleasure short-circuiting my nervous system.

"So tight," he snarls against my neck, his massive body completely covering mine now, pinning me to the mattress with his weight, his heat enveloping me like a furnace. "Perfect little omega, taking both shafts when you claimed you couldn't."

His mocking praise shouldn't affect me—I'm being claimed against my will—yet something primitive in my hindbrain preens at the alpha's approval, omega biology responding with another rush of wetness. The additional lubrication eases his way fractionally, both shafts now seated halfway inside me, their ridged surfaces creating excruciating friction against my inner walls.

With a growl that seems to shake the entire bed, Kairyx drives forward in one powerful thrust, sheathing both lengths fully inside me. The invasion steals my breath completely, the stretch so intense I can't even scream. For one suspended moment, I hover on the edge of consciousness, the pain too overwhelming for my mind to process.

Then he begins to move.

The first withdrawal drags his ridged lengths against every sensitive spot inside me, the textured surfaces transforming initial pain to confused pleasure. When he thrusts back in, the angle shifts slightly, hitting something deep inside that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

"There," he rumbles, satisfaction evident in his voice as my body jerks beneath him. "Your sweet spot. Let's see how many times I can make you come while claiming you."

No. No no no. I don't want this pleasure. I don't want to respond to his invasion with anything but rejection. But my body has other ideas, inner walls clenching greedily around his twin shafts as he establishes a rhythm designed to target that spot with every thrust.

Each drive of his hips sends his shafts deeper, the ridges creating devastating friction against my g-spot while the heatradiating from both shafts seems to melt me from the inside out. The sensations are overwhelming—pleasure edged with pain, fullness bordering on too much, heat that should burn but instead ignites every nerve ending with white-hot sensitivity.

My fingers scrabble uselessly against his scaled shoulders, seeking purchase against the tide threatening to sweep me away. The scales ripple beneath my touch, darkening from obsidian to something deeper, absorbing light rather than reflecting it. The transformation suggests his control is slipping with every thrust, his draconic nature emerging more fully as rut overtakes civilized restraint.

The claiming continues with increasing intensity, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His pace increases, the powerful drives of his hips slamming my smaller body into the mattress with enough force that I'll surely find bruises later.

My body's response is beyond my control now, inner walls pulsing rhythmically around his invasion, back arching to take him deeper despite my mind's continued rejection. I hate this. I hate him. I hate my biology for betraying me so completely. Yet I'm helpless against the tide of sensation threatening to drown me, each thrust pushing me closer to unwanted release.

"Mine," he growls against my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my scent gland pulses with each frantic heartbeat. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"No," I gasp, clinging to this last defiance even as my body surrenders completely.

He punishes my resistance with a particularly brutal thrust, both shafts driving so deep I swear I can feel them in my throat. "Say it," he demands again, scaled hand moving to grip my jaw, forcing me to meet his golden gaze now glowing with reptilian intensity.

"Never," I manage, though the word emerges as more whimper than defiance.

A sound escapes him—not quite laugh, not quite growl, but something between that vibrates through both our bodies. "Your mouth lies, but your body knows the truth," he says, deliberately grinding his hips against mine in a circular motion that makes me see stars. "You were made for this. Made for me."

The words should enrage me. Instead, my omega biology responds with shameful eagerness, inner walls rippling around his twin shafts as pleasure builds to unbearable levels. Each thrust now hits spots inside me I never knew existed, the dual penetration creating fullness beyond anything I could have imagined.

For what feels like hours but is probably minutes, he continues the relentless claiming, driving into me with mounting intensity as rut overtakes calculation. The room fills with obscene sounds—the wet slide of his shafts moving through my abundant wetness, the slap of scaled skin against human flesh, my involuntary moans and his guttural growls. It's primal, animalistic, a claiming that transcends species and civilization, reduced to pure biological imperative.

When he nears completion, his pace becomes punishing, driving deeper as small flames escape his mouth with each exhale. The flickering heat against my neck should terrify me—a reminder that I'm being claimed by something not human. Instead, the display of draconic nature pushes me closer to the edge I've been fighting.

"Surrender," he commands, voice raw with rut-need. "Come for me. Now."

My body obeys before my mind can resist, the orgasm crashing through me with devastating force. A keening cry tears from my throat as pleasure obliterates conscious thought. My back arches off the bed, pressing my body more firmly against his massive form as waves of release pulse through me with humiliating intensity.

"Perfect," Kairyx snarls, his rhythm faltering as his own release approaches.

I feel it first as additional heat at my core, his twin shafts seeming to expand further inside me. Then I realize with dawning horror what's happening—the bases of both shafts are swelling, forming knots designed to lock us together during breeding. The stretch is beyond anything I've experienced yet, burning pleasure-pain that tears another sob from my throat as my body yields to accommodate him.

"Take my knot," he growls, his hips grinding against mine as the swelling increases. "Take all of it."

The dual knots lock inside me with a final, brutal thrust, stretching my entrance to the point where pain overtakes pleasure momentarily. I can't breathe, can't think, can only feel the impossible fullness, the primal claiming of alpha knot in omega heat.

With the knots fully formed, Kairyx throws his head back, a roar escaping his throat that shakes the entire chamber as his release begins. His burning seed floods my womb in pulsing waves I can actually feel, the temperature noticeably hotter than human ejaculate would be, the quantity far greater. It keeps coming, jet after jet of scorching fluid filling me beyond capacity, sealed inside by his knots so not a drop can escape.

The sensation triggers another unexpected orgasm that tears through me without warning, my inner walls clamping down around his shafts and knots, milking his release with biological efficiency despite my mind's continued horror. The contractions intensify his pleasure—I can see it in the way his scales ripple with color, in the small flames that escape his mouth with each exhale, in the tightening of his massive body above mine.

For long minutes, we remain locked together, his seed continuing to pump into me in diminishing waves. The room reeks of sex and submission, of alpha claim and omegasurrender. The physical evidence of my body's betrayal pools around us where small amounts of his release manage to escape despite the knots' seal, mixed with my own abundant wetness—proof of my unwilling pleasure written in the most primal language.

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