Page 31 of Claimed By the Deep
The second climax surpasses the first, my body responding to his practiced touch with increasing sensitivity. He doesn't allow full recovery before beginning again.
"We've learned you can take at least five," he reminds me with a hint of pride in his voice. "Shall we confirm that it wasn't a fluke?"
He knows my body's limits now, pushes me toward them with confidence rather than caution. I'm already nodding, eager for him to prove it wasn't just beginner's luck that let him drive me to multiple peaks before.
The third time, he combines tentacles with his mouth in that way we discovered drives me nearly senseless. The fourth time, he positions me in that angle we found opens me perfectly to his touch. By the fifth, I'm trembling uncontrollably just as before, oversensitized yet still craving more, still addicted to his touch.
"Please," I gasp when he pauses, my body simultaneously exhausted and desperate for completion.
"Tell me what you need," he asks, though we both know what comes next in our dance.
"You," I manage, the word heavy with meaning beyond the physical. "I need you."
Understanding flashes in his eyes. This is where we move beyond what we've done before. "Are you certain? My... my hectocotylus is—"
"No." I cut him off immediately, laughing despite my desperation. "Ew. Don't call it that."
He looks confused, endearingly alien. "My... mating tendril?"
"Oh my god, no. That's even worse." My laughter breaks the tension. "Call it a cock. Trust me."
"Cock," he repeats with that same careful pronunciation that charms me every time. "Your language remains refreshingly direct."
"It's honest. And infinitely sexier than 'mating tendril.'" I cup his face between my hands. "Now please fuck me with your cock before I actually lose my mind."
His eyes darken at my bluntness, and I feel that now-familiar pressure against my thigh. Looking down, I get a proper look at what's pressing against me.
He's massive—at least twelve inches long and thick enough that my fingers wouldn't meet if I wrapped my hand around him. The surface is deep red like his tentacles but with subtle ridges that spiral along the shaft. Unlike a human, there's no distinct head—instead, the tip tapers slightly, the blunt end glistening with natural lubrication that looks slick. The most alien feature is how it moves independently, flexing and curving with purpose rather than just responding to his body's movements.
"This is different than what we've done before. It’s not tapered like the tentacles," I say, a flutter of anticipation mixing with slight apprehension at his size. "Will you fit?"
"I'll make it perfect for you," he promises, positioning the smooth tip against my entrance. "We were always meant for this."
"I trust you completely." The words carry the weight of everything we've been through together. "Love me," I whisper, meaning far more than the physical act. "All of you. Please."
He positions me with expert care, his larger tentacles supporting my weight while others spread my thighs. When he finally pushes inside, the stretching is intense—his ridged cockcreating friction unlike anything I've felt before. He goes slowly, each inch filling me more completely than I thought possible.
"Fuck," I gasp as he slides deeper, the natural lubrication from his body making the penetration smooth despite his size.
"Perfect," he growls, his voice dropping to a register that vibrates through the water around us. "So tight around me."
He begins moving with careful control, those subtle ridges along his shaft dragging against my inner walls with each thrust. His tentacles continue working across my body—one wrapped around my breast, another focused on my clit, others holding me in the perfect position for him to thrust upward into me.
"More," I demand, and he responds immediately, driving deeper while his cock flexes inside me, hitting spots I didn't know existed.
The movements become faster, harder, his normally graceful control giving way to something more primal. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me, the ridges becoming more pronounced as his arousal peaks. The independent movement becomes more erratic, almost like it's searching for something deep inside me. He keeps his tentacles around me, moving me up and down on his massive alien cock like some sort of toy, water splashing around us.
"Come with me this time," he growls against my ear, his tentacles tightening around me. "Let me feel you when I fill you completely."
The combination of his words, the relentless friction of those ridges inside me, and the perfectly timed pressure on my clitfrom another tentacle sends me over the edge. My inner muscles clamp down on his alien cock, squeezing and pulsing as the orgasm tears through me.
I feel him follow immediately—his cock swelling even larger inside me, the ridges becoming more pronounced. His release isn't like a human's quick spurts but a prolonged pulsing flow that feels warmer than my body temperature. It goes on for what seems like minutes, his tentacles gripping me almost painfully tight as his body shudders with the force of it. The sounds he makes are nothing like human pleasure—deep, resonating tones that seem to vibrate through the water around us, mixed with clicks and hums that no human throat could produce.
For one perfect moment, we're locked together, his release still pumping into me, my body still clenching around him, the connection between us feeling literally and figuratively deeper than anything I've experienced before.
When he finally stops pulsing inside me, his tentacles relax their grip, holding me more gently against his chest. My body feels different somehow—more sensitized, more aware of him even as he begins to soften inside me.
I look up at him, noting the new depth in his eyes, the subtle change in how he holds me.
