Keaton scoffed. “Yeah, well I’m not like them. I don’t need to ‘win,’ especially when it isn’t a contest to begin with.”
She considered him for a long moment, her head canted to one side, a slight smirk on her lips. Finally, she asked, “You wish to fuck me, then, not a helpless little nothing who looks and feels like me?” Keaton just nodded, a sense of wariness encompassing him. “Then you will have to earn it, dungeon lord.”
Cassia moved so quickly that he never had time to react. She shifted, grabbed his arm, all but threw him onto the bed and was atop him before Keaton even had the opportunity to blink. The wind was knocked from him and he distinctly remembered being in this position before, with his spear pressed to his chest and her hands around his throat.
This time, though, the movements she’d strongly implied on the battlefield became far more of a reality. She rolled her hips against him, sliding his cock through her folds but never taking him inside. Keaton let out a groan, reaching up to try and grip her hips, her thighs, anything to have some semblance of control. But she roughly grabbed his wrists and pinned them behind him, pressing him down into the bed with the weight of her lithe, muscular body against him.
“What do you want, dungeon lord? Do you want to be inside of me? Do you want to fill my pussy with that thick cock of yours?” she purred, grinding against him, her soft, sleek fur providing a pleasant contrast.
“Y—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” she tutted, leaning close and laving her tongue over his lips before drawing the bottom one into her mouth and tugging. “I don’t want you to beg. I want you to earn.”
How was he to earn anything when she overpowered him? The same way he earned anything in life, he supposed. By finding an alternate way, a different tactic that made advantage of the element of surprise. Cassia expected him to try and flip her, to wrest control away and thrust into her. There was no chance for him down that path, so instead Keaton decided to use her own arousal against her.
This time when she rolled her hips, he matched in an offset rhythm, so the head of his cock rubbed over that swollen bud. She gasped, her thighs shaking, giving him a moment to act unimpeded. A different man might have used that as an invitation to turn the tables, but Keaton instead used it to progress the plan he’d adopted. He controlled his movements, his hips lifting just enough to rub against her. The Emvola let out a loud, low moan, and Keaton did everything in his power to keep from groaning.
“Very smart,” she told him, breathless, her nails beginning to dig into the flesh of his wrists as her head ducked down, teeth poised by his neck. “But that tactic will not work a second time.”
“I’d be disappointed if it di—argh,” Keaton’s taunt ended with a shock of pain as she bit down at the junction between his neck and shoulder. Her teeth were blunted, clearly made for chewing plants rather than tearing meat, but they were still forceful enough to break skin. He was sure he was going to have a mark there the next day, but once the pain faded, it was replaced by a warm euphoria that seeped into his bones, a soft sound of bliss slipping from his lips.
That sound turned into a moan when she lifted up and took a hand from his wrist just long enough to grip his cock before she sank down on him. Keaton’s head fell back, his hips rising on instinct to meet her before she put a stop to it by taking him all the way to the hilt. She was so tight around him, her pussy squeezing around his cock and drawing another sharp moan from him.
He expected her to return her hand to his wrist, but instead she grabbed said hand and roughly placed it upon her breast. The fur was even softer there, just fine hairs covering the luscious, malleable swell of such gorgeous tits. They bounced vigorously as she started to ride them, and Keaton used the same roughness she’d shown earlier to squeeze, roll, and pinch, the last sharp grasp of his thumb and forefinger making her gasp, her head thrown back and a laugh falling from her lips.
She’d freed his other hand, so Keaton used that to grip her hip, his blunted nails digging into her skin. He couldn’t have controlled her even if he wanted to, but it gave him some way to hold on as she slammed down against him. The slap of their thighs resonated through the chamber, and every time she took him deep into her tight, soaking pussy, Keaton felt a new surge of pleasure.
She rode him so hard, so fiercely that the bed’s makeshift frame was already beginning to creak. It wasn’t going to last the night. It likely wouldn’t even last another ten minutes, but he didn’t care.
He would have let her ride him into complete oblivion, yet that wasn’t what this was about. Just like in their duel, he needed to make a good show. He started by lifting up off the pallet, thrusting into her as she slammed down against him. He drove deeper, his balls slapping against her skin from the momentum, and he could tell with every thrust, her control was slipping that much more.
Especially when he angled them so he was able to rub against her clit.
She moaned, sitting astride him with near perfect posture, her hands extended as far as they could reach, fingers gripping, nails digging into his chest. She started to buck against him, just grinding down against his hips with his cock fully seated inside of her, and Keaton wasn’t sure how much of that he could take.
Matters weren’t helped any when she came with a shout, her pussy clenching so tightly around him, squeezing his aching cock and demanding he fill her with his seed.
Keaton held out, a fact that must have impressed her because she threw back her head again and laughed. “My, you do have more stamina than the average human, don’t you?”
“I said I wanted a challenge,” he answered in a breathless huff.
His hands went to the furs that covered the pallet and he pushed himself into a sitting position so that she was atop his lap. Then he gripped her thighs so hard he was sure there would be marks the next day and started thrusting into her. The action resulted in a cry that sounded surprised, but pleased, and another round of rough, husky laughter.
“Go on, then. Fuck me. Harder. Harder.”
Keaton did as she demanded, until his thighs burned with the effort of pounding into her, lifting off of the pallet to do it. It wasn’t enough. He felt overcome, as if he couldn’t get enough. It was a compulsion, a deep-seated need, and Keaton gave into it fully.
Drawing upon the new strength he’d gained since coming a dungeon lord, he flipped Cassia, her legs instantly wrapping around him and squeezing tight, hooves digging into his back. She gripped his shoulders, a gleam in her eyes as he pressed his knees into the pallet and started to fuck her with wild abandon.
He’d never experienced anything like it. It was as if he’d succumbed to some kind of frenzy, like a wild animal overcome by the need to mate. He felt something inside of himself, a prickle of warmth telling him this was right; this was the way he was meant to do things. But all he was consciously aware of was how good she felt, how she met him with every thrust, how that husky laughter was her way of telling him he was doing what she wanted.
A loud crash followed an especially hard slam of his thighs against hers. Keaton felt himself falling, and his hands instinctively moved to try and help cushion his partner as the bed frame splintered, collapsing beneath them in a shower of wood.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, her fingers curling tightly into his hair and then pulling. Hard.
Keaton let out an almost feral growl, his knees scraping against the pile of wood and the stone floor as he kept pounding into her. His balance wasn’t as good here, though, his position not allowing him to leverage his own mass. He knew in the back of his mind that she was going to exploit that, but he didn’t care.