Chapter 541: Chapter 541- Princess Libia was rubbing her Labia
Edda gasped.
Her anal took him. Not easily. Not painlessly. But it took him. The ring stretched and closed around the shaft. The twelve inches slid into her bowels. She felt her insides churn. She felt her guts rearrange. She felt the cock pressing deep into her rectum, filling the channel that had been empty for fifty years and was now being colonized.
"Hah— Dragon Lord— hah— my lord— hah— please— hah— be gentle— hah— to my— hah— lord—"
He began to move.
Slow. Deliberate. The squatting position gave him leverage. He pulled her hips back and pushed forward. Her body moved with him. Her muscular ass cheeks clenched and released. Her tits swayed beneath her. Her head hung down, her hair touching the water.
"Hah— I cannot— hah— feel my— hah— hips— hah— my lord— hah— I cannot— hah— more than— hah— this— hah— my lord—"
PHACK PHACK PHACK—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! KYAAANGH~!!"
He fucked her harder.
The morning light on her muscular back. The sweat on her skin. The marks of the night everywhere. Her voice was broken. Her dialogues were fragments. But they were honest. The true voice of a woman who had been completely remade.
"Dragon Lord— hah— my lord— hah— oh— hah— my lord— hah— I cannot— hah— fail my— hah— hips— hah— my lord— hah— I can— hah— oh my lord— hah—"
Her bowels churned.
She felt the cock moving through her. The friction of it against her intestinal walls. The warm, heavy, completely overwhelming presence of him inside her most forbidden channel. Her eyes rolled. Saliva dripped from her open mouth into the water below. Her fingers were white on the rock.
"Please— hah— my lord— hah— it is too— hah— my body— hah— I am— hah— yours— hah— Dragon Lord— hah— please— hah—"
SKHLRK SKHLRK SKHLRK—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!! HAAAAANGHH~!!"
He fucked her without mercy.
The morning sun climbed. The mist burned off. Her anal became accustomed to the rhythm. The pain dulled into a constant, burning, full sensation. She began to push back. Her hips moved. Her muscular ass met his thrusts. She was fucking him back.
"Oh— hah— my— hah— lord— hah—"
She passed out.
Not suddenly. Slowly. Her eyes rolling back. Her tongue coming out. Her grip on the rock slackening. Her body going slack. Her head dipping lower. Her final words a whisper:
"I cannot— hah— I cannot— hah— more than this— hah— my lord—"
He slammed once more.
PHACKK—
And came.
The thick, hot, final load of the morning. The seed filling her anal. The pressure of it. The warmth. He kept his cock buried. He pumped every drop into her bowels. Her belly did not round this time — the channel was different, the space was different. But the cum filled her. It leaked around his shaft. It dripped down her thighs when he finally pulled out.
SKHLRK—
He stood.
His cock emerged from her gaped anal. The ring stayed open. A dark, red, twitching hole. White seed slowly leaked out, thick and warm, running down the inner curve of her muscular thigh to the rock below.
He looked at her.
Edda Williams. Dragon slayer. Fifty years old. Bent over a rock. Anal gaped. Mind unconscious. Body completely destroyed and remade.
He looked around.
The other women lay in the grass and the shallow water. Nara. Celia. Gia. Marla. Fatima. Rika lying over her so called husband. All naked. All marked. All filled with his seed. Their wombs and bellies and holes carrying the evidence of the night. Their minds blank. Their bodies claimed.
He looked at Jacob.
The young man was unconscious. The bindings had held him through the night. He had screamed himself into oblivion. His neck was corded with bulging veins — the ’vines’ of his fury and helplessness. He breathed shallowly, his back stretched in an awkward position where he had fallen.
Raven smiled.
He turned toward the sky.
The morning sun was bright. The waterfall mist caught the light. He looked up, his cock still glistening, his body marked with scratches and bites and the evidence of the night’s work.
"Isn’t it a bad thing," he said, his voice warm and carrying, directed at the empty sky above the treeline, "masturbating while watching someone fuck their women?"
A pause.
He chuckled.
"Ha, Princess Libia."
’!?!’
The voice did not travel through the air.
It traveled through the water — the silver, mercury-thick water that filled the scrying basin in the center of the northern throne room. Princess Libia had been kneeling before it for six hours, her knees numb on the cold obsidian floor, her eyes glazed with the reflected light of a scene half a continent away.
She had found the dead zone by accident.
A base town, barely worthy of a name on the kingdom’s maps. A cluster of huts and a training ground where an old woman taught children to swing wooden swords. Libia had been searching for warriors. For hidden weapons she could claim before the other heirs found them. Her clairvoyance — the inherited, blood-fed, illegally strong far-seeing that had made her the most feared woman in the Northern Citadel — had drifted across the eastern ridges and settled on a muscular figure in the dust.
Edda Williams.
The dragon slayer.
The woman who had killed a drake with an axe and a singing blade and then vanished into obscurity. Libia had been watching her for weeks, planning her approach. The old woman was perfect — strong, loyal, attached to her village, exactly the kind of weapon an heir needed in the coming succession war.
Then the man had appeared.
Libia had not thought much of him at first. A traveler. A demon, perhaps, but a minor one. The dead zones attracted lost creatures. She had continued watching because she was curious about how Edda would handle the intrusion.
She had not stopped watching.
Her hand had moved between her legs hours ago.
The heavy, dark indigo silk of her royal dress was bunched around her hips. Her knees were spread wide enough to make her thighs ache. The heel of her right hand was pressed against the mound of her pussy, moving in slow, grinding circles that she told herself were just restlessness. Just the tension of the surveillance. Just the heat of the throne room.
She was not touching herself.
She was not masturbating.
She was simply... monitoring.
But her clit was stiff beneath her palm.
She could feel it — the erect, sensitive nub of her royal cunt pressing against the silk of her smallclothes, demanding pressure. Demanding friction. Demanding that she watch more closely as the man pinned the old woman against the tree. As he threw her into the pool. As he fucked her throat, her pussy, her womb, her anal.
Libia had never seen a woman taken that way.
She had never seen a body used with such complete, unhurried, absolute ownership. The man did not negotiate. He did not ask. He simply took, and the women simply gave, and the sounds they made were not the sounds of pain but the sounds of something deeper than pain.
Something that Libia’s body recognized even while her mind recoiled.
She had been rubbing harder.
