Lirael’s breath hitched as Thorne’s thick cock dragged slowly through her soaked channel, the deliberate grind forcing her walls to flutter around his girth while his fingers maintained that maddening circle around her clit, never quite pressing hard enough to tip her over. The enchanted mark on her lower body flared brighter in response, its runes pulsing with heat that traveled straight to her core, making her slick folds clench greedily around him. She could feel every ridge of his shaft, the way the head flared and rubbed just shy of her deepest point, her elevated hips trembling against the leather straps that held her open and helpless on the breeding bench. Sweat beaded along her spine, trickling down the curve of her marked ass as his free hand gripped her hip, fingers digging into the glowing skin with possessive force.

“Such a greedy little pussy,” he rasped, voice thick with lust as he leaned harder over her bound form, his broad chest pressing against her back. “Milking me like it’s already begging for my seed.” He withdrew almost fully before thrusting back in with controlled power, balls slapping lightly against her as he repeated the motion in a torturous rhythm. Each stroke stretched her anew, the wet sounds of their joining filling the chamber, her juices coating his length and dripping down her thighs. Thorne’s thumb finally flicked her clit with more insistence, sending sparks racing through her nerves, but he withdrew the pressure just as her moans rose in pitch, denying the release her body strained for. Her breasts pressed into the padded bench, nipples aching against the fabric, while the magical mark seemed to throb in time with her racing heart, amplifying every sensation until her mind blurred with need.

His cock hardened further inside her, twitching against her inner walls as he quickened the pace just enough to chase his own edge. “Not yet,” he warned, voice a dark promise against her ear, one hand sliding up to cup and squeeze her breast, thumb brushing her nipple in tandem with his thrusts. Lirael whimpered, her body arching as far as the restraints allowed, the coil of arousal tightening unbearably in her belly. Thorne’s hips snapped forward with sudden intensity, burying himself to the hilt and grinding deep, the head of his cock nudging insistently at her cervix. She felt him swell, then pulse, hot jets of cum flooding her womb in thick spurts that made her gasp at the fullness. His fingers returned to her clit with firmer pressure now, circling rapidly as he held himself buried, ensuring every drop stayed locked inside while her walls spasmed around him in frustrated ecstasy.

Thorne’s hips rolled with unhurried power, each thick inch of his cock stretching her slick pussy in a deliberate grind that made the glowing runes across her lower body pulse in time with her racing heartbeat. Lirael’s bound thighs trembled against the leather straps as his fingers maintained their torturous circle around her swollen clit, never quite pressing hard enough to grant relief, while the head of his shaft dragged repeatedly over that sensitive inner spot without ever driving deep enough to claim it. Her breasts flattened against the padded bench with every forward thrust, nipples aching from the friction, and the enchanted mark flared hotter beneath his palm as he gripped her hip, his seed from the previous release already warming her inner walls and beginning to leak around his invading length.

A low, needy whimper escaped her as he leaned closer, his broad chest pressing along the curve of her spine, the heat of his body contrasting the cool air that kissed her exposed skin. “Such a tight, greedy little cunt,” he rasped, voice rough with restrained hunger, his free hand sliding up to cup and squeeze one full breast, thumb flicking over the hardened peak. Lirael’s inner muscles fluttered around him in helpless response, milking his cock with rhythmic pulses she couldn’t control, her arousal dripping down his balls and onto the bench beneath her. The slow, grinding pace built a maddening pressure inside her, every stroke sending sparks of pleasure radiating outward from her core while the magical mark seemed to throb in sympathy, heightening every sensation until her breath came in short, desperate pants.

He withdrew almost completely, leaving only the broad crown nestled at her entrance, then slammed back in with a wet slap that echoed through the chamber, his grip tightening on her breast as he repeated the motion once, twice, each time angling just shy of her deepest point. Her toes curled against the restraints, the leather creaking softly with her straining movements, while fresh heat flooded her belly at the thought of his earlier promise—to flood her womb again and again until she carried his heir. Thorne’s breath grew heavier against her ear, his shaft swelling thicker inside her as his own control began to fray, the deliberate torment shifting toward a more primal rhythm that promised to finally push her over the edge he still denied.

The Enchanted Mark: Bound by Law