Page 83 of Sawoots Story

He bucks his hips, spreading my pussy open, but he only gives me the head of his cock. “Fuck me,” I beg, needing so much more, and he fucks me slowly, rhythmically, so I swing in the air with each thrust.

The vines around my wrists let go, instead supporting my back and letting me free. I run my hand over his taut abs. He’s lean and cut, without an ounce of fat, and his bronze eyes flecked with sunfire are focused in on me and only me.

He rubs my nipples with his thumbs. “Fuck, gentle,” I gasp, but he gets a wicked grin, pinching and pulling at my sensitive buds. I’m full of electricity and the Bond is making me way too sensitive. Markrin pulls his thumb from my nipple and licks it, and I try to pull away as he presses it against my clit, circling his thumb in quick circles.

I’m way too sensitive. The vines don’t let me get away. I’m trapped in my own desires. “Bastard!” I curse, and he pinches my nipple, just hard enough to make me moan.

The vine slides deeper up my ass, humming insistently, and combined with his thumb pressing and twirling on my clit, I’m forced to a fast, sudden orgasm that wracks my body. I moan in pleasure as he slams every inch of his cock into me, faster and faster. He’s so hard I can feel the individual veins in his dick. I can feel his heartbeat through his cock. He growls, losing himself to the Mating Rage, but his damn thumb never stops even as my orgasm subsides.

I’m way too sensitive. It feels so good it’s torture. “Fuck, it’s too—ahh!” I gasp out, unable to form words as he loses control, his cock pulsing as wave after wave of cum fills me. The Bond reacts to his mating, overwhelming me with sensation as I lose myself to the alien warrior.

I’m a gasping, trembling mess when he’s done with me, the vine sliding out of my ass as he pulls his softening cock from me. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his broad chest as I shudder. My legs twitch continuously, my body pushed to the limit.

“Too mean?”

“Just right,” I reply, my voice tremoring like my body. The Bond has subsided after the two aliens took me, but there’s still a hard edge under it that won’t leave until…

A roar echoes in the pleasure room. Tar’ank has gone wild. He fights against the vines holding him back, his veins pulsing like they are about to burst out of his skin. His lips are drawn back to show his teeth, and he’s never looked like such an animal.

His aura is raging, black waters that want to pull you under.

Garrick grunts. “Leave him in here. He’ll be back to normal in a few hours.”

I shake my head. “No. He might be, but I need him. Give me control of the room. I’m going to have some fun with him.”

Garrick crosses his arms. I can’t help but give his forearms an appreciative glance. “This is unlike anything I’ve seen. The Mating Rage is getting stronger. You need to give him time.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “I can handle myself. I can handle you too, if it comes down to it,” I say, pulling myself from Markrin’s arms.

Garrick sighs. I’m getting used to that sigh—when I do something he thinks is too dangerous. “Very well. Markrin. Switch over control.”

“AI. Switch control to Sawoot.”

I’ve never had control of the room before.

The vines whip away from Tar’ank the instant I have control. He hits the ground running.

Straight towards me.

I imagine vines whipping out and grabbing him. They come from the walls, stopping him a foot from me. His neck vein looks like it’s about to burst, his strong features chiseled and prominent in his rage. Five hundred pounds of angry Aurelian is a second away from pinning me down and ravaging me with his huge dick.

The Bond melts my mind. The vines loosen as I lose focus, and I fight against my amplified desires for control over myself.

The Bond wants me to let him loose. It draws up every need I have to be ravaged by the beastly man, to be pinned down and bred. Oh, I do. I want it so bad it hurts not to succumb to it, the thrums of desire running up and down my body.

I want to teach the alpha a lesson. I want to show him that succumbing to the Mating Rage won’t be rewarded instantly…

And I have to prove to myself I can hold on.

I run my hand over Tar’ank’s muscled chest. His dark black hair has thickened since we met. Everything about him screams strength, from his huge shoulders to his bowling ball biceps. He stands so tall and huge, towering above me, held back only by the power of my mind controlling the tendrils of the room.

His eyes roll back and he pants with need. I almost feel bad for torturing him when I could give him what we both need so badly. I gasp as a wave of urges hits me, and it’s so hard to resist letting him go and allowing him to sate himself inside me.

Instead, I drop to my knees in front of him, manipulating the pleasure room floor to bring me up to the perfect height. His cock is straining against his combat pants, and they look like they are about to burst.

I run my hand over his bulge, feeling the iron-hard rod. He growls like an animal. I’m teasing him, pushing him past the limits—but I’m testing myself.

The Bond has been overwhelming my mind, and I have to prove I can hold on, just for another second. All I can think about is the sensation of him pressing me against the floor, pounding me hard as he seeds me, rope after rope of that thick, hot cum filling me to the brim. I whimper in need, my hand shaking as I slowly unzip his pants.

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