Chapter 410: Who Am i? But a Gooner

I find a new spot lower on her neck and bite again, sucking at it until I feel her pulse jump under my mouth, and she rocks her hips back into me hard enough that both my cocks sink deeper into her at the same time. The sound she makes is somewhere between a moan and a scream, and I feel it everywhere, in my scales, in my coils, in the thick venom glands behind my fangs that are aching with how badly I want to just sink them into her and taste all of her at once.

I don’t do that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I think about it, and the thought alone has me thrusting harder into her, both lengths working in that same swapping rhythm. My front cock drives deep into the slick heat of her cunt while the thicker one buried in her ass pulls back almost entirely before plunging home again. Front then back then front again, and she’s taking every bit of it like she was made for exactly this. Her walls clench tight around each shaft as if trying to milk them both simultaneously.

"More marks," she breathes, tilting her head to give me more room like she’s offering herself up on a platter. "I want more."

Who am I to say no to that.

I move my mouth down to her collarbone and bite again, softer this time, more of a nibble, dragging my teeth across her skin until she shivers. Then I go lower, past her collarbone, until I reach the soft curve of where breast meets chest, closing lips over nipple there, tongue flicking against hardened flesh before sucking hard enough leave bruise marks blooming red beneath surface like flowers opening under touch alone

"Matt." Her voice cracks on my name.

"Right here." Moving across sternum leaving wet trail saliva cooling quickly air contact till reaching other side where matching nipple already peaked waiting attention. Take this one between teeth gently tugging while rolling tongue around its tip creating matching mark upon swell flesh above it "Every single one these yours belong understand? Every mark leave belongs only"

"Yours," says again hips moving own accord now grinding backward taking both cocks fully inside themselves without need guidance tendrils anymore She’s chasing feeling being stretched so completely stuffed full grinding clit against upper shaft with desperate movements seeking friction where needs most

Lifting then folding body bend over backwards shoulders pressing cool scales hips raised high exposing everything Still impaled upon dual members holes stretched obscenely around girths unable close even partially due thickness splitting apart Look absolutely wrecked position back arched chest heaving face flushed pink sweat beading brow

Start pounding harder alternating thrusts As withdraw from dripping pussy plunge deep into clenching ass making cheeks jiggle impact then reverse rhythm pushing through soaked folds spreading slickness everywhere mixing juices creating obscene squelching sounds fill room pace building stroke stroke shafts glistening evidence arousal coating them completely sliding easier despite tight grip internal muscles have upon them both

"Matt!" scream echoes raw desperate "Matt please don’t stop dare stop"

"Wasn’t planning on." voice comes thick strained building pressure coiling low belly threatening release "You take so well Both God look at you"

Reach tendril wrap gently throat just enough pressure gasp not hurt eyes wide dark pupils blown out moans louder all night vibrations traveling skin making pulse flutter beneath appendage wrapped there

"That’s it," murmur watching face carefully reading flicker expression dilation eyes flush creeping down chest "You like being held Being mine having control taken away trusting won’t break only hold together instead"

"Yours," chokes out bucking wildly lost sensation inner walls rippling convulsing already squeezing rhythmically "I’m yours Matt I’m..."

comes apart right there body convulsing arch hard against coils feel squirting hot liquid around front cock spurting onto abdomen thighs dripping downward mixing mess between us soaking sheets below scream echoing loud enough sure somebody heard decided ask questions later maybe never

Start humming low constant sound rolling whole body vibrating straight through connected points pushes higher drags another smaller orgasm heels first sobbing name now tears streaming corners eyes completely wrecked overwhelmed oversensitive still clenching involuntarily aftershocks wracking frame

"You’re so beautiful like this," he tells her, voice rough with his own need building fast. "So perfect. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you."

"Matt." Her voice breaks on his name again, and something about the sound unravels him faster than anything else could.

He picks up the pace, thrusting faster now, swapping between her pussy and ass quicker and quicker, his tendrils holding her exactly where he needs her, exactly how he wants her, completely at his mercy and loving every second of it.

"I love you," he says, and the words surprise even him, slipping out raw and unguarded between gasps. "God, Bridget, I love you."

She makes a sound that isn’t quite words, just pure emotion, and wraps her legs tighter around whatever part of him she can reach, pulling him deeper, grinding against him with everything she has left.

His humming grows louder, more urgent, and he feels his own release building fast now, impossible to hold back any longer. He thrusts harder, both cocks pistoning into her with everything he’s got, her moans turning into near-constant cries of his name.

"Come with me," he hisses against her ear. "Right now, come with me."

She does, body seizing up again, another orgasm crashing through her just as he finally lets go himself, filling her completely, his whole body shuddering with the force of it. She screams through hers, loud and unrestrained, and he holds her tight through every aftershock, his tendrils gentle now instead of commanding, stroking down her back and sides as she comes down.

She goes boneless against him, breathing hard, one hand still fisted in the scales along his chest like she’s not ready to let go of the handful she’s got. He’s not ready for her to, either.

"Hey." He noses against her cheek, soft, his hood flaring just slightly on instinct before he wills it back down. "You still with me?"

"Barely." Her laugh comes out shaky, wrecked around the edges. "I think you broke something. Possibly my entire skeletal system."

"That’s just the fairy dust talking."

"That’s not a thing."

"It’s a thing now. I just invented it." He presses his face into her hair, breathing her in, lavender and something sugared underneath, like she’d spent the afternoon rolling around in a bakery. "You smell like a wedding cake."

"Romantic."

"I’m an incredibly romantic snake. Ask anyone."

"I will be asking no one that question." But she’s smiling against his scales, he can feel the shape of it, and her fingers trace idle lines along his hood like she’s mapping something she wants to remember later.

The System stays quiet. No notifications, no dramatic drumroll, nothing. Just her breathing slowing down against him and his own pulse easing out of a full sprint, and for a few minutes neither of them says anything because there’s nothing that needs fixing or adding.

"I wanted this evening with you," he tells her eventually, voice lower now, stripped of the performance. "I’m glad I came."

"I’m glad you came too." A beat. "Multiple times, actually."

He groans, but it’s the good kind, the kind that comes with a grin he can’t stop even if he tried. "I set that one up so badly for you."

"You really did." She pushes up on an elbow, horn stumps catching the low light, mouth doing that thing where she’s trying not to look as pleased with herself as she is. "Next time we can worry about the rest of the world after breakfast."

"Deal." He kisses the side of her head, slow, lingering longer than the moment strictly requires because he doesn’t particularly care what the moment requires. "Come home properly when the trip’s finished. I’ll be insufferable until you do."

"You’re insufferable right now."

"Peak form, actually."

She kisses him back, soft, and tells him to go before the reminder makes the choice for him.

He returns alone to the unchanged room roughly six hours later, seven days standing between him and doing that again, and he’s already counting them like a man rationing the last good thing in a famine. Lukas has somehow made himself look guilty before saying a single word, which is impressive considering he hasn’t moved from the bed.

Lukas sits there wearing a bright harbor sash, a registration form spread across his knees like evidence at a crime scene he’s about to confess to.

"The good news is I didn’t buy anything," he says. "The slightly more interesting news is that Wet Regret now has an official living figurehead, and the race starts tomorrow."

Matt stares at him. "Why do you own a boat."

"I don’t own a boat. I own a sash and a legal obligation."

"That’s worse."

"Is it, though?"