Page 19 of Tristan
“Don’t feel so bereft my darling. Don’t you want to see what my cock feels like in there?”
Yes, yes I do.
If multiple fingers feel like that, I’m all in, I want that mighty cock to fill me—want him to pound into me, make me scream.
“Take your hand away from your cock; only I will touch you now.”
I obey and move my hand to the side of my body.
“Legs up, spread them wide—open for me, Tahsen.”
He uses the softer of my Elvish names and it feeds my fantasy that he’s in love with me, that I’m not a concubine, but his true husband—someone he treasures.
I bend my legs toward my ears spreading as far open as I can and expose my hole. He presses his thumb into the pucker and teases it some more. “Corrik. Please,” I beg harder.
The corners of his lips tug slightly—Corrik’s version of a smile.
Unless he’s laughing.
He dumps lubricant onto his member with one hand and I’m left to suffer, watching as he pumps his cock, coating it. Finally, after what feels like a thousand years, he lines the head of his cock up with my hole but doesn’t push in just yet. Instead, he reaches down to grab my free hand and slams it over my head like before. I’m vulnerable,but I’m too high on this sex mountain to care. With him over top of me, I can clearly see his intentions. He leaks possession seeking to dominate me. I shiver with terrified excitement.
His voice, normally a hard, decisive tone, has changed to an otherworldly hiss. “That wedding was just words, but this is different. Once I claim you, you will be my mate for life. We will be bonded by flesh, and by magic.”
His words should scare me more, but they don’t. I like what he says. I don’t want to want him, but I do.
“Go on then, make me yours.”
He emits a growl only a creature could and when he does, his teeth flash, sharp as razors; the moonlight glints off them.
With a mighty thrust, he slams into me, and I hear thunder in my head or did thunder actually happen? I’m not sure. All I know is that Corrik’s cock is deep inside me. It’s larger than all the fingers he had up me, and it’s not nice at first.It hurts.Corrik either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care; he continues his thrusts. I wince as he slams into me, and for the smallest of seconds, I’m concerned he really is going to split me in half.
But I remember how much I wanted this, I remember how long I’ve waited and how much I deserve this. My sexual prowess has been locked away for too long and I won’t be denied the enjoyment of this moment for anything—even big, arrogant war Elves whose parents spoil him with whatever trinkets or humans he decides he needs. I let my body relax and bear down so my entrance opens for him once again. The pain is gone in that instant—I’m able to enjoy the benefits of having a mate with a large cock.
Corrik is overtaken by something he’s not in control of at the moment, but I’m not afraid—the worst that can happen is pain, the best, intense pleasure. That’s all I feel right now, pleasure—pleasure deep and intense. Our souls sew together as we become one as we become mates by flesh and by magic. Whatever that means.
The thunder is back. It clashes noisy inside my head as Corrik pounds the life out of me and I climb closer to climax. Up, up, upand,I can’t. I want to come so bad it hurts, but I can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong until I hear Corrik’s voice rich with haughty, mirth. “What’s the matter my Tristan? Is there something you need?”
Asshole.He knows what I need.
“I need to come,” I say and even though I’m hot all over, I blush another level deeper.
“Ask nicely and I may consider it.Youdon’t need to come to satisfy the ritual.”
That’s news to me. In Markaytia, both participants need to come to consider the marriage legitimate. Once again Elvish customs differ and Elvish customs rule. The way he pounds into me now, there’s no way I can back down—I’ll say whatever he wants me to, beg even.
“Please, Corrik. Please let me come.” I’m desperate and scared he’ll say no.
He stills his cock and I writhe around it with a whimper as he pets my cheek with his free hand, his other still holding mine steadfast over my head, bound to his by the handcuffs. “You’re so pretty, especially when you beg—stop moving.”
His lips stretch over his teeth, so I can see every one of them. “You should not have provoked me, now look what you’ve done. Our wedding night was supposed to be perfect, I was going to be so soft, so gentle.” He slams into me again, and it does hurt, but it also feels so, so good. I moan and beg and swear to him I’ll do anything if he’ll just say I can come.
“You will—you will do everything I ask,” he tells me.
Fuck, yes, whatever. Just say the Gods damned words!
“Come hard, sweet baby boy.”
And I do—harder than I ever have before. He comes too, filling me up with his Elven seed. I hear the thunder again, and I know it’s done. I’m his mate now.
