Page 39 of Warlord’s Prize

The kiss that follows contains none of the brutal force that characterized our early encounters. His lips claim mine with purpose but also with care, acknowledging the precious cargo I carry while stoking the fire building in my core. My hands move to his chest without conscious thought, fingers splaying across the ridged muscle beneath ceremonial garments.

"Your scent has deepened with the pregnancy," he murmurs against my throat, inhaling deeply at the junction where my claiming mark stands out in stark relief against my skin. "Richer. More potent."

My head falls back instinctively as he explores the sensitive skin with lips and teeth, exposing my throat in biological submission that now feels like choice rather than capitulation. A small sound escapes me when his teeth graze the claiming mark—the area having developed heightened sensitivity that sends jolts of pleasure straight to my core.

His massive hands make quick work of my formal attire, the garments falling away to leave me bare before his heated gaze. The changes in my body are more evident naked—fuller breasts with darkened nipples, the slight roundness of my abdomen where our child grows, the flush of arousal spreading across my skin.

"Mine," he growls, the word holding different significance than it once did—possession tinged with something closer to reverence than dominance.

"Show me," I challenge, surprising myself with the boldness that would have been unthinkable before our imperial confrontation.

His pupils contract to vertical slits at the invitation, a rumbling growl vibrating through his massive chest. When he sheds his own garments, the familiar sight of his arousal still inspires momentary apprehension despite months of regular claiming. His crimson skin gleams in the chamber's soft light, the tribal markings across his chest and arms seeming to shift with his movements as massive muscles flex beneath his skin.

The intimidating dimensions of his cock stand in stark contrast to my human form—thicker than my wrist and proportionally long, with the specialized vibrating nodule near the base that ensures omega pleasure regardless of initial consent. The sight of it sends a fresh rush of slick between my thighs, my body's pavlovian response to months of conditioning I've stopped trying to fight.

Instead of immediately claiming me as he usually would, Kazuul surprises me by kneeling before the bed. The position should diminish his dominance, yet somehow his massive form still radiates power even as he positions himself between my thighs with clear intent.

"I want to taste how pregnancy has changed you," he rumbles, his hot breath fanning against my inner thighs, making me shiver in anticipation.

The first swipe of his tongue draws a gasp from my throat. The texture is rougher than a human's, the heat several degrees warmer, creating sensations that send sparks racing along my nerve endings. His hands grip my thighs, keeping them spread as he explores my most intimate places with deliberate thoroughness.

When his tongue finds my clit, the jolt of pleasure is so intense I nearly come off the bed. A moan escapes before I can contain it, my hands grasping the furs beneath me as anchor points against the onslaught of sensation. The combination of texture and heat creates stimulation unlike anything I've experienced, building pressure at my core with shocking speed.

"You taste even sweeter," he murmurs against me, the vibration of his words adding another layer to the overwhelming pleasure. "Pregnancy has ripened you."

His tongue delves deeper, exploring every fold with thorough attention that speaks to both possession and genuine desire to please. When he adds a finger alongside his tongue, the stretch burns in the most delicious way, my body accepting the invasion with eager welcome that would have mortified me months ago.

A second finger joins the first, both curling to find a spot inside that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. The dual sensation—his tongue circling my clit while his fingers press against that secret place—pushes me toward climax with unstoppable momentum.

"Kazuul," I gasp, his name falling from my lips without hesitation now. My hips move against his face of their own accord, seeking more of the pleasure only he can provide.

He responds by intensifying his efforts, tongue moving with greater purpose as his fingers establish a rhythm that matches the unconscious movement of my hips. The pressure builds beyond what seems bearable, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally breaks in a wave that crashes through my entire body.

The orgasm washes over me with stunning intensity, my inner walls clenching around his fingers as pleasure radiates outward from my core. My vision blurs at the edges as my back arches, a cry tearing from my throat that would have mortified me once but now feels like liberation.

As I lie catching my breath, Kazuul rises and looks down at me with an intensity that makes my heart race. Instead of mounting me as expected, he pulls me to my feet with surprising gentleness.

"Turn around," he commands softly, guiding me to face the massive bed. "Hands on the furs."

This is new. We've always faced each other, his weight carefully distributed above me. I place my palms on the soft furs, the position making me feel exposed in a way I haven't been before. He moves behind me, his heat radiating against my back without touching me.

"Your body has changed," he says, one large hand tracing the curve of my spine down to where it meets my hips. "This position will be more comfortable for you and the child."

His consideration catches me off guard, the practical care for my pregnant form triggering an unexpected swell of emotion. Before I can respond, his hands grip my hips, thumbs spreading me open as he positions himself at my entrance.

"Is this acceptable?" he asks, another surprise that makes me glance over my shoulder at him.

In the dim light, his golden eyes watch me with unusual intensity, waiting for my response. This request for consent, however small, represents yet another shift in our dynamic.

"Yes," I whisper, the word falling from my lips with deliberate choice rather than resignation.

He enters me with careful slowness, the angle creating entirely new sensations as he fills me from behind. The stretch still burns at first, his size overwhelming despite my body's abundant preparation, but the position allows him to penetrate deeper without putting pressure on my abdomen.

"You feel different like this," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Tighter."

His hands explore my body as he begins to move, one sliding around to cup my breast, the other dipping between my thighs to find my still-sensitive clit. The multi-point stimulation makes me gasp, pleasure building again with surprising swiftness after my first climax.

"I can feel every shudder," he murmurs, his rhythm steady but restrained. "Every pulse inside you."

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