Page 43 of Infala: Taming the Beast
She pulled him close, planting a firm kiss on him, squeezing his remarkable cock, the raging beast still mostly erect even after so many vigorous rounds. The man truly was a lust-filled machine. And she was more than happy to oblige.
This became their routine, the next several days blurring together in a wonderful mix of closeness, affection, discussion, and, of course, mind-altering sex.
Every day and every night they explored one another’s bodies, each of them reveling in bringing the other to new and creative heights of pleasure. And in between the vigorous fucking that somehow hadn’t left them both too sore to move, they would talk about everything under the sun. All but some aspects of Braxxos’s childhood he still wasn’t comfortable revealing.
Margot was fine with that. She’d settled into this unbelievable life, and there would be plenty of time for that. With the odds of ever getting home as close to zero as they could be, given that she was stranded on another planet far, far from Earth, this was about as perfect as she could hope for.
Sure, it was a very, very rustic life, but there was actually something wonderful about it being just the two of them. And Braxxos was having a wonderful time learning her culinary tricks as well as her sexual ones, showing a proclivity in the kitchen as well as the bedroom.
Of course, it wasn’t really a proper kitchen. They were out in the wilderness, after all. But they made it work, and it was a delightful time for them both.
“Is it normal for my new tattoos to do this?” Margot asked one afternoon as they walked back from the hidden cenote hand-in-hand, enjoying their new routine of exploring different paths every day. The terrain was so varied around this area, there was always something new to see.
He lifted her top, his hand grazing her breast as he moved his fingers to her Infala rune. It was the same as when she’d arrived, but the pigment did seem to be more active.
“It all appears relatively normal, yes,” he replied, lowering her top. “But it is still early days, and you haveverypowerful pigment. You are a remarkable woman, you know.”
“Aww, you’re just saying that.”
“No, I am not.”
“I know. And you know what? You’re pretty amazing too.”
She slipped her fingers from his and scampered up ahead. “Look! It’s a Timpania flower!”
“Stay on the path,” he reminded her.
“It’s okay. It’s right over here,” she replied with a happy grin, pointing to a tree off to the right behind some shrubs.
Margot didn’t see the trap, nor did she even register when her foot triggered the tripwire. All she saw was a blur as Braxxos bolted in front of her, wrapping her in his arms as they fell. Then there was the realization of pain. Excruciating pain.
The couple fell to the ground, a long arrow running through both of them. Braxxos had taken it in through his back and out his mid-section, Margot was wounded just under her arm, the shaft missing both the limb and her breast but piercing her side. She tried to move but quickly found that she couldn’t. They were impaled, stuck together.
“Aaaghhh!” she cried out, the pain unbearable. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It stung, but it also burned, and she felt like fire was coursing through her entire body.
She realized Braxxos had to be in incredible pain as well, but he somehow lay incredibly still on top of her, his arms wrapped around her protectively, his chest heaving hard. He looked at her, a hint of panic in his eyes as he fought his own reactions, forcing himself to control his body and ignore the pain. For now, at least.
With clenched teeth he reached his hand back and snapped the shaft then grasped the little bit he could grab onto between himself and Margot, holding it steady as he slowly rose from ontop of her, drawing the length through and out his body, his hot blood streaming onto his love.
“Hold still,” he urged, gently rolling Margot onto her uninjured side.
She saw the pain clear in his eyes, but something else caught her attention. His tattoos. They were flickering, the green flaring up brighter than the other colors.
“What is that? Are you okay?”
“I can handle it.”
“Handle what?”
“Never mind. I need to deal with this. The arrow is poking out your back.
“That’s bad!” she said in a panic, fear and adrenaline surging through her body.
“No, that’s good. It means I can remove it easier.” He took the bloody piece of arrow he’d snapped and placed it against her lips, a sad, apologetic look in his eyes. “Bite on this. I’m so sorry. This will hurt.”
She did as he said, biting down on the salty wood.
He nodded once, then snapped the tip off the arrow from behind her back. He threw it aside.
