Page 19 of Scorching the Alien Empire
I buck against Dracoth, a silent plea for him to unleash the raw force like I know he can, like I know he wants to.
He doesn’t disappoint. His clawed hands dig into my hips as he pulls me onto his molten manhood with brutal, blazing speed, driving me toward that fiery edge once more.
“Secure the remaining ships and recruit survivors who absolve their shame,” Dracoth commands, his deep voice struggling tomaintain its usual level tone. I smirk, giving him a playful, naughty squeeze, hoping to distract him further.
“And take a crate,” he adds with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “The Shorthairs’ loyalty is to be rewarded.”
Balsar’s sweaty face flushes with shock as his gaze shifts to a nearby box. “I cannot,” he says, suddenly straightening, his tone unusually solemn. “We did not earn this gift.” His nod is sharp, almost reverent—Captain Serious Face in full force. Dracoth must be rubbing off on him.
“Take it.” Dracoth’s unyielding tone crushes any chance of further protest.
“At... at once,” Balsar stammers, rushing over to grab one of the crates with his stubby fingers, his awkward movements a waste of precious resources in motion.
“We will carry out your orders, War Chieftain,” Jazreal states, clamping a hand to his chest and bowing his head respectfully before turning to exit.
“Aww, leaving already?” I purr, my laughter dripping with mockery as I savor the flicker of surprise crossing the unmarred half of his face. “Why don’t you stay and enjoy the show?”
My gaze slides to Balsar, who looks like he might explode in panic if his face flushes any further. “Both of you,” I add with a wink, watching him recoil like a scared little piggy. My laughter turns hysterical, relishing the look of confusion and fear radiating from them.
“Leave us!” Dracoth roars, his voice a monstrous thunderclap.
The effect is immediate. Balsar stumbles in his frantic rush to escape through the melted doorway, while Jazreal bows once more and exits gracefully, his movements fluid as ever.
“Princesa,” Dracoth growls, his voice low and deep, the dangerous edge sending a shiver through me. His clawed hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back with a sudden, powerful jerk.
“You are mine,” he declares, each word a molten promise. His other hand clamps firmly behind my neck, his fingers coiling with enough force to quicken my breath and stoke a delicious fear deep within me.
“My bonded Mortakin-Kis,” he rumbles, leaning closer, his weight bearing down on me, his breath searing against my ear. “I will kill you before I let another have you.”
“Yes,” I croon, grinning wickedly as he punishes, pushing deeper inside me, forcing me to take all of him.
“Only yours, Dracoth,” I whisper, my voice a mix of purring submission and unbridled desire. The thought of his possessiveness—his strength alone to claim me, his ability to burn me in his roaring flames—sends my mind spiraling.
“Yours forever,” I gasp, my words ragged as he hammers into me with brutal force. His molten length claims every part of me, ripping through both body and soul.
“Make me eternal,” I cry, my voice trembling with ecstasy. “Your wife, your Mortakin-Kis, your Goddess.”
The flames inside me roar higher, fanned by the sheer intensity of his passion.
Yes, I am divine!
My body blessed by Arawnoth’s fiery will.The scent of our charred enemies proves it. Together, we are an inferno—unstoppable.
“Make me a ring out of this,” I laugh throatily, snatching up an orb of Elerium. Its swirling hues dance like liquid sunlight on the darkened walls, momentarily distracting me from the fire raging between us. “A Goddess ring!” I cry, delighting in the brilliance of the idea. “Promise me, Dracoth!”
“Yes,” he growls, his voice raw and manic, claws digging into my hips with an urgency that sends sparks of pain and pleasure rippling through me. His thrusts deepen, each one more demanding, more consuming.
Grunts and ragged breath squeeze through my restricted airways as his pleasure builds higher. The heat of him, the sheer intensity of his presence, coils tighter and tighter. I can almost feel his balls begging to pump me full of his hot seed. It’s intoxicating! I want all his liquid metal burning deep in my core, want every part of him.
“Promise me we’ll reach the top, Dracoth,” I gasp, my voice a guttural plea, torn between bliss and desperation. “Promise me we’ll be like the Gods them—”
A squeal cuts me off as the fiery tension inside snaps.
A scream of blissful release erupts, a fiery explosion deep within my core reverberates through my body in shuddering waves of ecstasy. Trembling, my eyes roll back, my vision blurs, and my legs turn to squirming jelly. Unknown sounds spill from my lips, raw and unbridled, as I lose myself in the trance.
But Dracoth is merciless, relentless. He clutches me tighter, pulling me onto his searing length with a ferocity that steals what little breath I have left. I am his, utterly and completely. He uses me like a beautiful fuck toy, desperate for the release only I can give him.
“Yes, Princesa!” he roars, his voice a guttural snarl that resonates with unchained desire. “We shall have it all. This I swear!” His words drip with fervor, a solemn vow carved into the molten core of our shared madness.
