Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Chapter 53

Chapter 53

How long had we been fucking now?

I couldn’t say. Time had stopped meaning anything inside the Red Room. Days blurred into nights, nights into more days, all of it measured only by the ache in my hole and the sticky heat drying on my thighs. My body had stopped fighting it. It had accepted the rhythm as natural, inevitable. Every morning I woke already stretched open around Kai’s cock, the thick length of him resting heavy inside me while he slept, or half-hard and twitching as if even in sleep he refused to leave me empty. He’d start slow at first—deep, rolling thrusts that made my spine arch and my mouth fall open—then pick up until I was screaming, coming in long, messy pulses across the sheets. After that he’d flip me, press his face between my cheeks, and eat me out until my wetness ran down his chin and soaked the mattress. Then he’d fuck me again. And again.

Kai had turned into a brutal monster of a breeder, and I had become the thing he bred. He took me on the bed, then dragged me to the chair, bending me over the armrest so the backshots hit deep enough to knock the air from my lungs. When my legs gave out he’d haul me onto the floor, knees scraping against the carpet while he drove into me from behind, one hand fisted in my hair. The walls weren’t safe either. He’d pin me against the cool surface, lift one of my legs, and fuck up into me until my toes curled and my voice broke. The bathroom got the same treatment—tub overflowing, water splashing across the tiles, my hands slipping on wet porcelain while he pounded me through another orgasm.

Our heat and rut fed each other like two fires sharing the same oxygen. I begged constantly. Sometimes for more, sometimes for mercy I never truly wanted. He’d always give the same answer, voice low and rough against my ear.

"You know the safe words."

I never used them.

Why would I? That cock was too good. Kai’s cock was fucking perfect. I still didn’t have the right words for it. The shape of it—thick, slightly curved, veins raised just enough to catch the light and make my mouth water every time I looked. The girth filled me completely, a stretch that bordered on too much yet somehow never was. The length reached places that made my vision white out. And the way he moved... steady, controlled, relentless. He knew exactly how hard to thrust, when to grind deep and stay there, when to pull almost all the way out and slam back in. He was a master, and my body had learned to open for him like it had been waiting its whole life for this exact cock.

That was why the empty feeling hit so hard the morning I woke up alone.

No thick heat stretching me open. No heavy arm draped over my waist. No slow, possessive rock of his hips starting the day the way it always did. I sat up, sheets sliding off my bare skin, and the silence of the room felt wrong. I checked the bathroom. Empty. I looked behind the heavy curtains. Nothing. The Red Room was still locked in its own little world of red fabric and sex-scent, but Kai wasn’t in it.

I hadn’t stepped outside in what felt like weeks. Sunlight, other rooms, normal air—none of it had touched me. Sex, alcohol, food delivered on trays, and the constant wash of red light were all I’d known. And I hadn’t minded, because Kai had been there.

I almost walked out in the chest strap and the short skirt he liked me in—the ones that made me look exactly like what I’d become: his well-fucked, thoroughly claimed whore. Instead I grabbed the nearest sheet, wrapped the soft red fabric around my body, and stepped into the hallway. The door wasn’t locked. That detail settled cold in my stomach.

Slow steps carried me down the corridor. Voices reached me before I saw them.

"...you need to see how they’re all disassembled. You did place them in disarray truly. Clawface couldn’t even handle the fits..."

The speaker stopped mid-sentence.

"I can smell the just-fucked scent on you, Alex. Come out."

I groaned under my breath.

Only one person would say something that blunt, that shameless, when we barely knew each other. Marcellan. My brain really had been fucked into a softer shape if I was almost glad to hear him.

I rounded the corner.

Kai sat on the couch opposite Marcellan, legs crossed, a glass of something dark in his hand. Sunlight—actual sunlight—caught the silver streaks in his hair and turned them almost white. His chest was bare. Only the black chinos covered him, the ones he’d promised he’d wear when we eventually left the Red Room. He looked... beautiful. I had almost forgotten what he looked like outside the constant red glow. The sight of him made my empty hole clench hard.

His eyes darkened the second he scented me. That familiar, possessive heat rolled off him in a wave. Then his gaze dropped to the sheet I clutched around myself, and something almost offended flickered across his face.

He hadn’t wanted me covered.

Marcellan sighed loudly and slapped a hand over his eyes. "Y’all can stop eye-fucking each other now, please."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I still reeked of Kai—his cum, his sweat, the pheromones that had soaked into my skin for days. Of course Marcellan could smell it.

"Marcellan came to report on the Court," Kai said, voice even. "Nothing to worry about."

Marcellan didn’t look convinced. He stood, strolled closer, and looked me up and down with open amusement. "More than that. I came to see the newlyweds. The Court may be jerking off their rage right now, but at least y’all are still consummating. They want an heir, after all."

"It’s time to go," Kai said flatly.

Marcellan chuckled and raised both hands. "What? Don’t tell me you’re both shy?"

"You’re fucking embarrassing."

"Nah, it’s you two. Ugh. Fucking indoors all this time and ignoring your duties. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck." He raised his voice on purpose, dramatic and loud, until Kai stood, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him toward the door.

I stayed where I was, watching them like two oversized children who still needed supervision.

Kai returned a minute later. The second the door shut behind him, the air changed. His rut was rising again—I felt it in the way my own body answered, heat blooming low in my belly, wetness already starting to slip down my thigh.

"You can take that off now," he said, voice lower. "I’d love to see you in—"

I didn’t let him finish. The sheet dropped.

His eyes went molten.

I stepped into him, rose onto my toes, and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Marcellan didn’t lie, though. How many weeks now? I’m sore as fuck..."

Kai’s hands settled on my waist, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above my hips. "You still want to be fucked by me, don’t you?" Soft kisses trailed along the upper swell of my chest, right where the sheet had covered me. "Or what if I decide to let my rut go on forever?"

"Then you’d dry out your sweet peach into bitter peach."

"Not you." He nuzzled the side of my throat, voice a soft growl. "You can never be bitter."

I laughed, quiet and shaky.

Kai’s hands slid lower, gripped the backs of my thighs, and lifted. I wrapped my legs around his waist out of habit—but that wasn’t what he wanted. He kept lifting until I was higher, until my legs draped over his shoulders and my cunt was right against his mouth. He started walking back toward the Red Room with me balanced on his face like I weighed nothing.

His tongue pushed into me immediately—hot, wet, relentless. I gasped, fingers twisting in his hair, hips already rolling against his mouth. He fucked me with his tongue the entire way down the hall, every step jostling me just enough to make the pleasure sharper.

By the time we crossed the threshold of the Red Room again, I was dripping down his chin and shaking.

Oh, shit.

I could never win against that fine cock of his.

It was just too good to resist.

Fuck me, Kai.

Fuck me till thy kingdom come.