In an instant, she shattered.
Crumbling against his lips.
It was tectonic. A quake that rattled muscle and bone, dancing through sinew strung taut through the arch of her spine. Leaving her shuddering, lungs frozen. Staring wide and sightless. Muscles jumping with the force of her release.
Eyes rolling white, vision edged in prisms of blinding color, Kore twisted. Rendered fat puddled in seawater. All the pieces of her detonated against a scattered constellation of pleasure so bright, she couldn’t stand to touch it.
Couldn’t help but be consumed by the flames. Utterly. Entirely.
There was nothing but a strangled sound before her gills seized and flattened against her throat. Clamped shut.
It didn’t stop—he wouldn’t let it. Dragging wave after wave through overstimulated flesh, he purred against her nerves. Touching the live wire of pleasure that kept her clenching and lurching. Liquid release gushed from where she clenched around nothing.
Empty.
Too full.
Her belly rock-hard as her muscles froze in one rigid, involuntary flex.
Still, he didn’t relent.
What hadn’t been enough became far,fartoo much. A gasp clapped through her gills, caught in the ridges of her throat. Clattering and broken when his tongue found her slit and bullied inside. So he might drink her slick straight from the source. Lewd, rumbling gulps.
Hips bucking, pinned still and open, she came again. Dragged back down before she could even gasp for a sip of air, trying to fill lungs that no longer had a use for something so basic. So human.
Flimsy nails scoring at his scalp, she pushed with one hand. Pulled with the other.
Every blistering second of it etched through the Raskoril as it strobed with the echoes of her consumption. Reflecting the ripples of his purr as Nyxarion wrung every last drop of pleasure from her ravaged body.
Pupils yawning wide and inky black, tears leaked from unseeing eyes. Swept away by dark waters before any might see the nature of her total domination.
And still.
Nyxarion worshipped her.
Lapping at the flood of slick until her body could give nothing else. Until her muscles went slack, and even the overwrought tremors were depleted of anything resembling vitality. Until she was soft. Pliant and limp.
Drained of everything, except the distant will to live.
Only then did he slow. Gentled by her complete submission.
Puddled in the bowl of the throne, Kore could scarcely summon the strength to blink. Even her scales were muted, the cascade of color—usually so bright with the fire of a glorious sunset—were subdued. Weary.
And it was then, through the sweet fog of delirium swamping her mind, that Kore felt it.
The weight.
A strange pressure that felt heavy as her nipples puckered.
Nyx didn’t notice.
He was consumed with her scales. Searching between the tiny shells, his eyes clouded with a worry she couldn’t comprehend.
CHAPTER 20
Poised in the liminal space where the Deep and the Shallows converged, Thalos floated in secret. Cloaked beneath his camouflage.
Irritated. Growing wildly impatient. Left to wait in the twilight where neither kingdom ruled, where there were no kings or blood feuds or the endless dance of posturing and politics. There was only…this.