Page 61 of The Thren's Fated

Finally, she let herself drop onto his abdomen with a long moan, a comfortable pressure pulsing within her. She leaned forward, resting her hands on Screl’s chest as a sucker attached to her nipple, sucking with a delicious pressure that forced desire to beat through her like a drum.

She wrapped her hand around his upper cock, squeezing it against her slit as she rocked back and forth against it. He seemed to be enjoying the show—or perhaps unable to do more as he recovered—letting her set the pace as she fucked herself on his cock.

The slow, hard rhythm made her back arch and her eyes roll, a pleasant tension coiling in her stomach.

“Yes, amoreth, use me,” he said, his voice gravelly with lust.

Amoreth.

The same word, the one which warmed her in a way she never thought possible, the one that made her think everything would be alright. They could start over, forget the abduction ever happened. They could go slow, like a normal couple would.

Perhaps she was good enough.

As she fucked him, his lacerations began to close, the bruises fading ever so slightly with each thrust. It was like magic, but she could feel the power pulsing between them, a strange and inexplicable energy tying them together.

It was strong enough to make her believe that soul mates were real, and that hers was the alien whose cocks she was riding.

The tip of a tentacle brushed across her lips persistently before she finally parted them. It pressed its way into her mouth, heightening the pleasant purr emitting from his chest. Her legs shook as she used him, driving closer and closer to release, his tentacle gagging her moans as it explored her mouth.

“Tell me you are mine, precious one, that you will always be mine,” Screl groaned as his eyes bored into her.

He withdrew his tentacle from her mouth for a moment, waiting for her answer as the tip tickled her lips.

The words slipped out far more easily than they should have.

“I’m yours, Yavriel, and I always will be.”

With that, the tentacle was back in her mouth, pulsing rhythmically down her throat in time with his thrusts. Another wrapped around her bottom, the tip playing with the tight ring of muscle of her ass.

Lena was filled with bliss, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge of release, stroking her hand over Screl’s upper cock so it stimulated her clit. With a garbled moan, she rocketed over the precipice, her cunt clenching onto Screl as his groan echoed hers.

Just as last time, it was as if the simultaneous orgasms ricocheted between them, Lena riding the waves as she let him take over, thrusting up into her and extending the pleasure far past the usual aftershocks.

She rejoiced in the sticky seed dripping from her entrance, slicking her thighs with pearly essence, a jolt of shock surprising her as his upper cock erupted like a pleasure volcano. She aimed it toward her, eager for more, letting cum splash her face and neck, dripping over her shirt and creating an erotic mess.

Eventually, she stopped rocking, her chest heaving with exertion as she came back to the room, to the male with the glowing chest she was straddling. Her chest was glowing as well, a faint blue that barely shone through the fabric of her shirt, though the heat told her it was there, matching his.

Lena slicked a finger through a streak of seed slipping down her neck, bringing it to her mouth and sucking hard. The taste was exquisite, bittersweet with a touch of salt, like dark chocolate or salted caramel.

“Look at my beautiful human, covered in my mark,” Screl murmured, swiping a claw through the cum dripping from her entrance, still stuffed full with his cock.

“You taste good,” she said, as if that explained the ravenous euphoria that slammed through her, her body feeling as light as a feather and as desperate as a starving animal.

Screl brought the finger to his own mouth, tasting their combined essence and rolling his eyes with pleasure.

“As do you,” he finally said, his finger licked clean, the erotic act stoking the flames of arousal once more.

Lena giggled—the sound shocking even herself—enjoying the fact that his cock still filled her despite the evidence of his orgasm covering her with sticky wetness both inside and out. Though he still had some scars and bruises, it was such a drastic change from how he looked just a bit ago, and she savored the way she could heal him with her presence.

When she tried to get off him, he just wrapped his tentacles tighter around her, holding her flush to his glowing chest.

“Stay. I will recover quicker if you are with me,” he said, and she believed him.

She snuggled into the crook of his neck, a deep sense of satisfaction and exhaustion racing through her as if she’d run a marathon.

“Why do our chests glow when we…” she started, trailing off as her eyes fluttered shut.

“It means we’re meant to be together.”