by Jaid Black
He hissed.
“Please.”
He settled himself comfortably between her legs, then bent his dark head to nip at her neck with his teeth. Not enough to drink of her, but enough to puncture the skin and to cause a few droplets of her blood to trickle out onto his tongue. He lapped the beads of blood up, groaning as if she tasted like an elixir from the gods.
“Oh lord,” she groaned, her belly knotting with impending climax, “oh yes.” She felt delirious—good grief what was he doing to her?
She didn’t know what instinct made her bite him, couldn’t say what drove her to it, but in a frenzy of lust and intuition, Nancy’s head shot up and she clamped down onto his jugular vein as hard as she could with her comparatively dull teeth. He began to writhe and moan, his low growl evolving into a fierce roar.
Incisors sliced cleanly into her jugular, causing her to whimper from the human fear of death mingled with an evolving predator’s ecstasy. She never let go of his jugular, though, and soon she would be glad she hadn’t.
An orgasm exploded inside of her as he drank her blood, the violence of it intense enough to make her body involuntarily convulse. Amidst the throes of a full mating frenzy, it didn’t matter that Nancy’s incisors were dull in comparison to the teeth of the male who was preparing to mount her. Her human teeth sank into his jugular as far as they could go, and although they couldn’t go far enough to drink of him they were able to go in far enough to nick him, which caused him to bleed a single droplet of blood.
It was enough. The moment the sweet taste of his blood hit her tongue, Nancy groaned as her body convulsed with yet another orgasm. She enjoyed the intensity so much that even when he made her release his neck so he could mount her the way he wanted to, she bit down onto his chest and drew blood, refusing to let go, moaning and groaning when orgasm after orgasm rocked through her.
“Oh aye, little one,” he said hoarsely.
Her body stilled. Her teeth fell away from his chest as reality set in. She was drinking a man’s blood.
“Oh God,” she dramatically wailed.
“I need to mount you, vorah,” the giant said thickly, seemingly unaware of her tumultuous thoughts. His silver eyes glazed over as he nudged her down to lie fully upon her back. He then settled himself on his knees between her legs, clutching her hips with his hands and spreading her thighs wide.
“Wh-what are y-you doing?”
What a dumb question!
“Mounting you,” he said in a hoarse voice.
Eeeek!
Against her volition, Nancy’s nipples hardened and elongated as she watched the gargantuan-sized predator prepare to thrust inside of her for the first time. Eyes closed and nostrils flaring, she could tell by the look of impending nirvana smothering his features that the eight-foot giant getting ready to mate her had never been with another woman. Never.
A five-hundred pound virgin. A five-hundred pound virgin who drinks blood and possesses a penis the size of a small whale.
Eeeek!
“Oh dear,” she whimpered, her logical mind at war with her eyes—eyes that were busy drinking in the intoxicating sight of his heavily muscled body. Why did her body react to him as if it had been preprogrammed to? “P-Perhaps we should start slower,” she hedged, glancing uneasily up at his fangs. “Maybe holding hands would be nice—“
She said no more when he looked at her as though she’d gone mad. Good lord she probably had gone mad! That certainly explained this new world she was inhabiting. Perhaps she and the other mental wards at the local asylum were visiting here at the same time. Right after they’d had tea with Napoleon. Nervously, her hand darted up to push the spectacles she always wore up the bridge of her nose. Oh that’s right. She wasn’t wearing any spectacles.
Damn it!
Nancy closed her eyes and groaned, a melodramatic feeling of martyrdom overtaking her. What was so wrong with being a spinster? she mentally wailed. Why had she ever thought to get a new life?
“’Twill be alright, little one,” he murmured. “Verily, I could never hurt you.”
Her eyes flew open. For the first time it dawned on her she could understand what he was saying. And, she thought bewilderedly, he wasn’t speaking English by any stretch of the imagination. “H-How…”
“Thy blood is in me.” He bent his head and sipped at her neck again, causing her to gasp. “And mine in you,” he murmured.
Her breath caught when, with no more preliminaries, he raised her hips up a bit, then impaled himself within her flesh in one long, arousing stroke. It hadn’t killed her after all. “Oh my,” she gasped, her back arching.
“Vorah,” he ground out, sweat dotting his brow, “I’ve the need to rut in you, little one.”
Vorah—Bloodmate…the human equivalent to wife.
Oh lord.
Nancy gazed up at the gigantic male whose flesh was fully embedded in hers and was surprised by the array of emotions she felt just looking at him. It worried her really, for it meant that not only had her body been preprogrammed to need him, but her heart had been as well. But preprogrammed by whom? By what? She sighed, very confused.
Vorik stroked into her flesh slowly once more, the look of rapture on his face heady enough to tug at Nancy’s heartstrings. She closed her eyes briefly, opening them on a sigh, the poignant feeling of being his first lover doing a tap dance on her emotions…and her libido. She actually found herself wishing that she knew what to call him by.
Vorik, he answered in her mind. Thy Bloodmate.
Their eyes met. Nancy nibbled at her lower lip as her reticence dissolved.
“I’m Nancy,” she whispered.
Vorik entered her slowly again, groaning as he seated himself fully within her. “Nawncy,” he ground out. He held her thighs apart with his large hands, his hips rotating in between them as he thrust into her flesh.
She gasped, her nipples hardening.
Vorik bent his head to her chest, his tongue darting out to curl around one jutting nipple. Nancy moaned loudly, for his tongue was rough like a cat’s and the gentle sandpaper sensation sent tremors shooting through her. He sucked on the nipple for a long time while he slowly thrust into her, and pretty soon she was so wet that she could hear her pussy making sucking sounds with every slow upstroke.
He flicked at her nipple with his tongue, then raised his dark head. “Are you ready for more, beautiful one?” he murmured.
“Yes,” she gasped, her hips arching up to meet his next downstroke.
He closed his eyes and picked up the pace, thrusting into her flesh in deep, wild strokes, moaning and groaning the entire time. Sweat broke out onto his forehead. The muscles in his arms clenched and corded. His teeth gritted as he rode her into oblivion, never wanting the sensations to end.
Nancy watched his face the entire time, moaning as he took her. It was a heady feeling, owning the first pussy a man ever fucked. The expression on his face was indescribable in its intensity. He looked delirious with pleasure, yet she could tell from the way his jaw was clenched as he rocked in and out of her that he was doing his damnedest to keep from orgasming. He wanted the euphoria to last. He never wanted to stop fucking her.
She moaned when he rode her harder, his hips pistoning faster and faster between her thighs. She could hear her flesh sucking him in, trying to hold onto his cock every time he rocked back and forth.
“Aye,” she heard him growl. His eyes were closed, as if concentrating intently on the feel of her cunt. He mounted her primally, holding back nothing.
Harder. Deeper. Faster. “Aye.”
Nancy gasped as incisors sliced cleanly into her neck. She came instantaneously, screaming as she threw her hips back at him.
With a growl he gorged on her, feeding on her blood as he stuffed his stiff cock inside of her over and over, again and again. He moaned and groaned throughout every last orgasm, allowing her as much pleasure as he could, taking from her as much pleasure as he could, before the deed was fully done and he
wouldn’t be able to touch her whilst she incubated.
When she came again—writhing and moaning, throwing her hips at him like a wanton—he could take no more torture. Raising one finger to his neck, he allowed the nail to spike up, then slashed open his jugular and lowered it to her.
She drank of him, became one with him, never thought to deny him. He roared at the euphoric sensation of her feasting on him, the feeling akin to never-ending orgasmic release.
Only when Vorik knew the deed was done, when he was certain she’d drank enough of him to evolve, did he allow himself the final, harsh release. Realizing as he did that he would not get to make love to her for a sennight, he glutted on her blood and cunt as long as ‘twas possible, hedonistically enjoying every sip, every thrust.
“Vorah.”
He came on a loud roar, his eyes crimson with passion, with possession. The orgasm went on and on and on, ‘til finally his man sac had been emptied of all seed.
When it was over, when both of their breathing returned to normal, Vorik smiled down at her, his expression worshipful. “Many thanks, little one,” he murmured. “’Twas more bliss than I can say.”
Nancy grinned. “You weren’t too bad your…” She gasped, as she felt her breath slowly leave her body. “Vorik,” she panted, “what the…”
He smiled. “You are evolving, my love.” He disentangled his body from hers so as to not impede the process. “’Twill be but one sennight in the cocoon—”
“C-Cocoon?” she cried out. Gasping for air, she rolled onto her side, noticing for the first time that a web was forming around her hands—a thick web of sticky material. “Oh my God.”
She screamed, trying to bat the web away with her hands, but it was growing and thickening, and climbing up her arms. “Help me!” she screamed, jumping up to her feet. She gasped as more air left her lungs, then fell to her knees.
Nancy watched in dawning horror as the web made it’s way up her arms and began encasing her fully, all the way down to her toes. Unable to scream from a lack of oxygen in her lungs, she mentally screamed, rolling and rolling, and rolling her body to the far side of the nest.
Vorik came after her, not wanting her to harm her cocoon lest she die. “Vorah!” he commanded her. “Calm thyself and quit moving anon!”
But Nancy was delirious, wild, frantic. She rolled further, and Vorik stepped closer. The nest teetered and swayed.
“Vorah!”
Cold terror knifed through her as the nest collapsed and she began plummeting toward the ground at a bone chilling speed. She bypassed winged animals, mountain peaks, and—oh God—a mountain base, as she plummeted down, down, down, down…
She was almost completely encased, nothing but her eyes showing as the cocoon turned over so Nancy could see up instead of down.
Vorik.
He was coming after her, swooping down from the heavens. But he was no longer a man.
Silver body. Silver wings. Fangs. Crimson eyes…
Nancy silently screamed as the cocoon encased her fully, her last conscious thought before her breath left her entirely that the man she’d just made love to was a gargoyle.
And worse…he had turned her into one too.
* * * * *
Vorik swooped down and caught the vorah-sac in his arms, careful not to snag it with his teeth as was the automatic instinct possessed by his kind when in kor-tar form. But then usually when one was descending upon a body ‘twas as a predator seizing prey so he cared not whether his fangs ripped through the animal’s flesh. Since this was the cocoon of his evolving Bloodmate, however, he cared mightily.
He cradled the vorah-sac in his arms, cautious of her delicate state at all times. She was defenseless just now, unable to protect herself whilst she incubated, and so ‘twas her Bloodmate she depended upon at this time for safety more so than she ever would again.
When Nancy awoke, he knew the metabolic changes within would cause her to be as deadly as was he—mayhap even more so—for he’d never heard tell of a species of predators in any dimension where the female wasn’t deadlier than the male. Mayhap ‘twas to compensate for the fact that she would be much smaller than a lot of the species of prey they would stalk together throughout their seven lifetimes together.
There were many characteristics that the Barbarians of Khan-Gor shared in common with other predators, the most fundamental one being the difference between the genders. Although Nancy would be gifted with the ability to kill attackers and seize prey in many deadly ways that Vorik could not, she would never be able to best her own Bloodmate—never.
Vorik smiled at that thought, thinking the gods showed much in the way of smarts. Verily, if the deadly female was able to bring the male she had mated with down, then males would be killed off left and right, mayhap every time their vorahs got into a temper. Since Bloodmates mated for life, ‘twould be foolhardy of nature to allow for such, for the predator populace would die out and those lower on the foodchain would become too great in numbers.
And so it had come to pass through the long process of evolution that the Khan-Gori male was possessed of two gifts the female was not: whilst in animal form his silver skin was impenetrable from puncture wounds dealt by a Bloodmate, and whilst in either form he could mesmerize his Bloodmate should he so desire it. Those two attributes, working in conjunction with his larger, fiercer size, gave the Khan-Gori male eternal dominion o’er his deadly vorah.
Vorik dismissed his stray thoughts as he scanned the grounds and mountain passes for a safe place to make camp til the sennight of incubation had passed and his Bloodmate emerged from her cocoon. He couldn’t chance flying all the way back to F’al Vader lands this way with her in his arms, for if a rival predator made battle with him, he would be forced to choose between dropping the vorah-sac to fight—which would kill Nancy in the process, or allowing himself to be killed by a male from another pack. Since Vorik would choose to die with his Bloodmate rather than drop her, he knew ‘twould mean death to them both.
His crimson eyes located an empty cavern below which his visual acuity told him was not currently being inhabited. He swooped down to make haste toward it, realizing as he did from years worth of hunting that the cavern was nestled within neutral lands unclaimed by any pack. ‘Twould do.
Vorik sent out a mental warning to weaker lifeforms below that did they wish to see the next morn, they would clear out the cavern immediately until he and his Bloodmate left it behind. His acute hearing picked up the vibrations of scampering feet and, verily, by the time he arrived with his vorah-sac and had shape-shifted to humanoid form, all signs of life were long gone.
He carried Nancy into the ice-coated cavern, his Bloodmate securely cradled in his arms.
Chapter 6
One week later
Nancy’s breath came back in a rush, her lungs heaving and expelling a huge gush of air. Crimson eyes flew open and fangs exploded from her gums as she instinctively sought out her Bloodmate. In a behavior pattern that had genetically been programmed into her during the incubation period, she exploded from the cocoon with a fierce roar, able to do so by a lining of deadly spikes that jutted out of the skin cells on her forearms.
Unable to think of anything save the need for Vorik’s nearness, and voraciously aroused after having not mated during the entire week she’d been cocooned, Nancy flew at top speed out of the cavern, her heightened sense of smell detecting that Vorik was a mile off, somewhere in the vicinity of the mouth of the icy riverbed below.
The scent of him aroused her further, inducing her nipples to harden and her belly to knot in anticipation of being mounted. The moment her Bloodmate saw her descending upon him, his lips formed a snarl as he shape-shifted into kor-tar form and took flight towards her.
Their silver bodies came together in a mid-air clash, and Vorik immediately sank his teeth into her neck. Nancy gasped at the arousal, her need to be impregnated by the large male too instinctual to resist him. That he now looked like a gargoyle, that he
was fanged and winged and his eyes were crimson—all of these things her earthly memory cells were wary of, but the need to couple was too pressing to pay them much heed.
As her Bloodmate lowered them to the ground with a fierce growl, then forced her bodily onto her hands and knees, she could think of nothing—nothing—but being mounted. It was as if she’d never been human, as if her body harbored no memories of an existence before she’d emerged from the cocoon.
On a dangerous growl Vorik entered her from behind, his thick swollen penis impaling her warm flesh in one thrust. She hissed at his roughness, glancing over her shoulder to snarl at him. He growled in response, then nipped at her shoulder with his teeth to show her who was in control as he pounded into her cunt from behind. She yipped in response, whimpering like a puppy who’d had her tail stepped on at the chastisement.
Vorik immediately soothed her, his tongue darting out to lap at her shoulder while he kept up his steady tempo of thrusts. Nancy gasped in pleasure, then began to couple with him, throwing her hips back at him to increase the friction and the deepness.
Aye little one, she heard a hoarse voice in her mind say. I’ve missed thy presence sorely. Fuck me with that sweet cunt.
She did as he bade her, throwing her flesh back at him, moaning and groaning as he pounded into her body, hissing with ecstasy as his sharp fingernails dug into the flesh of her hips. She didn’t understand why the sensation of his fingernails piercing her skin felt so good, only knew that it did. It was like a sensual massage, akin to the way it would feel if her clitoris was being rubbed.
On a growl she burst, her wet flesh contracting as she came. The orgasm was a thousand times stronger than anything she’d ever before experienced, causing her to moan and groan and writhe and twist as Vorik continued to impale her over and over again, his tight balls slapping against her buttocks while he frenziedly rutted inside of her.
