Chapter 119 Hold Tight to Kindness
(Apollo & Adelaide)
Adelaide was shaking so violently that the bench scraped across the stone. Her vision flickered, black edges creeping in as her body tried to comprehend the sheer fullness of him. Her breath came in ragged, uneven bursts, each one edged with half-formed cries.
There was no air. No words. Just sensation—stretching, burning, filling—so intense it felt like she was splitting open from the inside out.
When he pulled back, just the slightest amount, her whole body shuddered. Her walls clamped instinctively, trying to pull him back in, desperate for the pressure even as her nerves screamed from the strain.
Apollo lived for the sight. For the knowledge that it was him doing this to her. That no one else will ever get to see this level of beauty. To experience this level of submission.
He jerked forward, and she screamed again. Her walls fluttered against his two lengths.
“That’s it,” he praised. “Take me all in.”
He held her there, trembling around him, his breath a molten growl above her. Her body spasmed, clinging to him in frantic pulses, as if her flesh itself refused to let him go. He felt every flutter, every sharp little quiver inside her, felt her teeter on the edge of breaking and reshaping all at once.
Heat rolled off her in waves, each pulse of her body mirroring the frantic pounding of her heart. Even the air around them vibrated, thick and trembling, as if the chamber itself leaned closer to listen.
He started to move, to slide himself in and out. His two scaled cocks stretching, filling, claiming.
Every inch dragged sensation through her like a scream pulled into a whisper—sharp, molten, devastating. Her breath shattered against the padded bench, the sound lost under the wet slide of him moving inside her.
Her screams vibrated through his bones. Through the floor. Through the bond—white-hot and wild—flooding his senses. He gripped the bench on either side of her, his claws sinking into the wood as he tried to contain himself.
The stone beneath the bench tremored, responding to the force of her voice, as though Hell itself recognised its king’s taking.
With each thrust, her body convulsed around him, not knowing whether to fight or surrender, and he felt that conflict like it was happening in his own skin. Her pain. Her pleasure. Her desperate, trembling need. His vision flickered at the edges, gold bleeding into black.
Her confusion fed him. Every shudder that rattled her bones sent heat spiralling into his chest, tightening something ancient and territorial around his ribs.
His hands slid slowly down her back, savouring the way her muscles shuddered beneath his touch. The sight of her—bent over the bench, gasping, stretched around him—pulled something darker, quieter, more calculating into his expression.
She was trembling so hard her feet slipped against the floor; only the chains at her wrists kept her from collapsing. Her breath fogged the obsidian surface with every panting exhale.
She thought this was the limit. She thought she’d taken all he had to give. She was wrong.
He needed more. Not more of her sounds. Not more of her submission. But more of her entire body. More of the way she broke against him. More of the way she clung to him. More of the way her magic sparked against his like a dying star begging to be reignited.
He wanted every inch of her. All at once.
He leaned closer, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “We’re not finished.”
When he pulled back enough that one of his cocks slipped free, Adelaide groaned deeply, either in relief or annoyance. The sound tore out of her, raw and involuntary—her body mourning the sudden empty space even as her mind scrambled to process it.
Apollo chuckled and slapped her left asscheek. He hit surprised Adelaide, and she yelped. The sting bloomed instantly, heat spreading across her skin in a way that made her thighs quake harder. Her inner walls instinctively squeezed around what was left inside her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, “you’re still so damned tight.”
She felt his hand slide over her back, down her hip and thigh and back up again, stopping at her ass. He squeezed hard, leaving new bruises in her flesh. He pulled her cheeks apart, exposing her back ring to him.
The cool air brushing the newly revealed skin made her shiver violently, her pulse hammering in her ears until she could barely hear anything else.
She flinched and tried to wiggle away, but his grip was firm. Her breath came fast and shallow, her hips trembling in his hold, her body conflicted between instinctive retreat and molten anticipation.
A second later, and she felt a drop of warm moisture hit her crack. She froze. Heat pooled instantly under her skin, a helpless flush creeping up her chest and neck.
Apollo watched as his saliva slipped between her ass cheeks to her hole. Using his finger, he rubbed the spit around her entrance, preparing it for him. Every slow circle of his finger sent sparks racing up her spine, her muscles clenched in frightened, involuntary pulses.
He pulled back, angling his hips so that his second cock nudged against her tight ring.
“No!” Adelaide cried. “You can’t. Not there.”
Apollo’s breath came slow, controlled, as if her panic only sharpened his focus. His hand slid up her spine, not soothing—staking his claim.
“You keep offering me rules,” he murmured, voice low and implacable. “As if you’re still somewhere that rules matter.” He leaned closer, words brushing her ear like heat. “You wanted kindness, Little Flame. Hold tight to my kindness.”
He pushed his hips forward; his cock was already coated in her juice, but the saliva still helped. His cock slid through the resistance easily, as if her ass welcomed him.
Her scream echoed sharp and ragged, shaking loose something deep inside her chest—fear and pleasure clashing violently until she couldn’t tell one from the other.
As Apollo pulled back, only to hit forward again, penetrating deeper inside both her holes, Adelaide screamed again. Her body flopped onto the bench, limp and breathless. Her cheek pressed against the heated padding, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaking down her flushed skin. Her throat tightened around the next breath she dragged in.
Tears pricked her lashes. Her pulse thundered in her temples. Her entire world had narrowed to the thick, overwhelming presence of him inside her. Of him stretching her in two places at once.
Her body quivered helplessly around him.
“Please…” She didn’t know what she was begging for. “Please—” Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears—thin, shredded, stripped bare.
“You’re doing so well,” he growled. Then he moved.
The rhythm he set destroyed her. Her mind blanked. Her breath hitched in broken gasps. Her vision pulsed with sparks. Her fingertips scraped uselessly at the stone, trying to anchor herself against a reality that kept fracturing under the force of each thrust.
Pleasure and pain tangled sharply, violently, until she couldn’t separate one from the other.
Her voice broke on every exhale. Her fingers clawed at the floor. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably.
The bond exploded—flaring in wild spikes that ricocheted between them like clashing storms. Each pulse ricocheted through her nerves, bright and unbearable, flooding her veins with molten sensation.
He’d never seen anything more beautiful. Her spine was a perfect curve beneath him. Her back was slick with sweat. Her hair tumbled forward like a dark waterfall. Her body trembling, clutching around him, trying to take him deeper even as she gasped from the impossibility of it.
She’s mine. The words echoed in his skull.
He leaned over her, lips brushing her ear. “Such a good girl you are. Now take what I give you.”