She smiled hesitantly and let him draw her a little closer, holding very still as he moved his hand with his lethal claws over and around the folds of her pussy. Relief and gratitude, spiced by new confidence in her position as still belonging to him, made her close her eyes, even rock a little with his movements. She brushed one hand over her breasts, her nipples permanently hardened by steel, and sighed.
“That’s enough,” he growled, but he sounded as if he might be smiling.
He gave her a gentle tug and she went to her knees, carefully avoiding the sticky puddles of blood around his chair. He was smiling, she saw, showing his fangs as he played with the tips of her hair and watched her unfasten his pants. She lubed him with her tongue, licking and rubbing to work the moisture in, and felt him swelling even more in her grip. She’d had so many dicks in her mouth today, it was privately a little amazing to her that she could work up anything like enthusiasm for this, but there was nothing in the world so arousing as kneeling in a bloodbath and hearing the killer say that you were special and still worth keeping.
“Go a little slower,” he murmured. His hand came up to lie heavy on her head. “I want to feel what you can do.”
Raven was marginally unnerved by this deviation from the norm, but cautiously jubilant at the same time. She could give damned good head, although she’d gotten used to the way he seemed to like, rough and fast. She began to tongue lightly at his glans and stroking down the shaft to massage at the place his balls would be if he were human, unsure whether this were what he meant or not. She could never quite relax when he wasn’t hurting her. Not that she liked pain, although she’d put up with it in the past if the ends were lucrative enough. No, it wasn’t that she wanted to be hurt, it was just that she knew where she stood when Kane hit her. When he didn’t, it was nerve-wracking—was she doing something right, or was he just ignoring her?
Raven began to throat him, hesitant at first as she took his girth, but she’d long ago learned the trick of suppressing her gag reflex and so even if she couldn’t take him all right away, she could take a lot. She made swallowing motions, squeezing his thick base and he put his head back and groaned, flexing his powerful thighs around her ribs.
She released him, nipping at the head of his dick before bending over him, lapping at the sweat pouring down his chest and stomach as she massaged his cock.
“Do that again,” he hissed. “With your throat.”
She swallowed him obediently, gulping around his shaft as she squeezed and pulled at the base. She was rewarded with a raspy “Haaaah” of pleasure from Kane, who kneaded at her hair with his careful claws.
Raven could hear, beyond the wet sounds of her work and Kane’s grunting growls of pleasure, the quiet sobbing cries of captives muzzled by duct tape. She pulled back to look over her shoulder, rubbing her fist up and down with one hand while tracing the alphabet on his glans with the thumbnail of her other. She tried to find it in her to be sorry for them, but felt only a shivering relief in the knowledge that she would be saved.
The two hookers were facing each other, both weeping, pressing their bound hands together in a captive’s embrace. The biker chicks, by contrast, were staring back at her—the redhead wide-eyed and pale with shock, the blonde with narrow concentration, as though studying for a test.
Raven heard a rumble of throaty laughter and looked up into Kane’s pleasure-darkened eyes, now cat-narrow and content. He, too, was looking at the women, although his hand still combed down Raven’s hair.
“When I send you to sleep,” he remarked, amused. “I believe I am going to hear an offer of the best fucking humans can give.” He hissed sharply and looked at her hands, adding, “Which, if I do in fact receive, I may be astonished enough to let the ichuta’a live. You can’t imagine how good that feels, with five fingers. Put your mouth on me, Raven.”
Raven rolled her shoulders back to come at him from an angle and sucked him in all the way, until her lips locked around his base. She swallowed and pumped him, swallowed again several times as fast as she could, until he began to spasm and she pulled back, sucking the cum from his cock and letting it drool down from the corners of his mouth to stimulate what he called his ‘true’ cum. She’d gotten quite good at this, at closing both fists around his shaft and milking him in rhythm so that she could drink him without gagging on the flood of it until his body could react to the stimulant in his spend.
“Tell me,” she gasped between mouthfuls. “Tell me when, and you can have my ass.”
“Isn’t that…bad for your period?” he asked, his reluctance belied by the clenching excitement in his hands.
“Yeah,” she lied, sucking harder. “But I want it. I want you. I’ll risk it.”
He hissed between his teeth, was silent as he pumped out another three spurts of cum. Then, “I just got you the way I want you—Unh! I don’t want to break—break you! Chok, that’s nice! All right! But I’m going to be pissed if you die. Get up, right now!”
He hauled her up by the arm and swung her around, growling as he fisted his own dick, as if it hurt not to have her there, even the instant it took to place her against the booth table. She felt his claws pricking at her hips as he spread her cheeks and pushed his slick cock slowly into her. He groaned, bent to rest his full weight on her, and took several ragged breaths. Then he reared back and fucked her in earnest, banging the table into the wall with every thrust, pushing her breath from her body in low grunts which he apparently took for pleasure. He drove at her harder, faster, and she heard what might have been a part of her name in his roar of release as his cum coated her bowels.
He shuddered and bent, gasping, and lay his head on her shoulders. “Raven,” he said, laughing a little as he lay atop her. “I’m taking you with me when I go. If I never see Jota, if I never have Heat again, I can’t imagine the rest of my life without a fuck that fine.”
He nuzzled at her hair briefly, then straightened, slapping her flank stingingly but with affection, and bound himself up again. “Now go sleep. I’ll need you ready when it’s time to go.”
Raven went to the dank bathroom in the back of the bar to clean up and when she came out, Kane was injecting his scanner into one of the females, leaning back on his haunches to study the results. The hooker who was his object of consideration was sobbing into her fists. She screamed when he gripped her hair, but at least she died right away when he harvested her. It was just too awful when they didn’t.
Raven lay down in a booth and watched. The second hooker ended up the same as the first, which left Kane with the two bikers. He sat and considered them, then punched a hole in each of their duct tape gags.
“You’ve got plenty of poison in you,” he said, and rested his eyes on the one with red hair. “But there’s something strange in your blood, something I don’t recognize, and there isn’t much I can’t recognize. What can you tell me?”
“I’m pregnant,” the biker said.
“What?”
“Pregnant,” she said again.
Kane rubbed a little at the bridge of his nose and sighed, then hauled back his hand and slapped her, hard enough to flip her from her knees onto her side. “I heard you the first time. Tell me what it means.”
The redhead started sobbing. “I don’t know how!”
“It means she’s cooking up a baby,” said the other.
Kane looked at her, and Raven recognized the gleam of early impatience in his eyes. “She’s what?”
“A baby human,” the blonde said. “You know, baby? You fuck, you get a baby?”