Falling Rain

She purred into Gregor's chest as he thrusted into her, crushing her insides with every movement. And she went in against him, trying to thrust against him with her own hips. Deeper, deeper, ever deeper, ever stronger, kissing the end of her entrance and slipping behind it. Lina yelped and growled and cursed her body for ending. Infinite abyss inside her to take the infinite mass on Gregor. She shifted and moved and finally something gave in her and Gregor's hips met her own.

Blank starburst heat and everything collapsed, and Lina did not really know what else there was in the world to do other than couple and rut. Mash her flesh against his, try to break his bones with hers, just meet in pleasure and warmth. She bit him on his collar bone and in response, he dug his fingers into her back, trying to break through eh skin and crush the bone underneath. But she was strong and invulnerable, resisting the will made against her with a love bite. Love and hatred in equal measure, falling into bliss as well as resisting the strength turned against her. A love bit, something to punish him and mark him as hers. He just went faster, harder, finding new nerves to annihilate with his flesh.

"Baby," he whispered in her ear.

---

He was winning. Gregor was winning against Lina, feeling her writhe and thrash and squirm at his rampage inside of her. Even her bite he answered with clawing her skin and marking just as she had done to him. And she melted into him, submissive and eager, still fighting against his actions. It only helped him cinch his victory in the soft velvet enveloping him. His and only his and no one else's, all his. Only he could go this deep, this devasting sensitive flesh as he crushed the delicate insides. There was only one thing left to do to take down the strength beneath him and make it truly submit.

He leaned in close, so close, feeling the heat of Lina's breath cross his cheek, winding its way down his neck, finding her ear. A soft bite of his own, reciprocated from his own mark. She shivered and gasp and the tense and release filled him with pride. One word, he had one word and one word only.

"Baby."

They had considered it, filling their own little existence with a little more, another soul to scamper and play and raise on their corner of the world. Lina liked it. Gregor liked it, although he had some trepidations. But he was ready. Lina was more than ready, so it might as well happen. Might as well add something of themselves to the world as well, make something to teach and grow and live with them before setting it free to do as it liked. Terrifying in its enormity, but in the moment, there was only the act, the desire to never let the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him go. To see the next step together and that condensed into one word.

That was a mistake. An absolute mistake that should never have transpired. For a moment, she stopped and went still, letting him move a few more thrusts on his own. But then he stopped as well. Her stillness worried him, and he couldn't find any reason for it. It might be his victory for this particular round. Still, even when he was on top of it, even when he was good and strong and had her taken into unconsciousness.

She smiled, flashing glinting teeth that shone in the dark light of their home and Gregor felt his heart skip a beat. Her lips met his, broken away from his skin and. Soft, gentle, a slight brush as gentle as single raindrop and he stared into her eyes as she stared into his, red and dull and glowing like scattering of stars from a disturbed fire. She stared at him as the moment stretched off into eternity and each little pulse, he had sent tremors through his body.

And then she was on top and his head hurt a little from another impact with the floor. She was on top. That immense weight of crushing muscle on top of him and she looked feral, absolutely feral, and dangerous. Teeth and eyes looking to crush and toy with him until he was broken and weakened and chewed and pulp.

She tried to break him, writhing her hips on top in a maddening rhythm and he tried to hold on to the raging blaze on top of him. Up and down, side o to side, again and again and again, going faster and faster and faster and harder and harder than he thought she could manager. Over and over again, slamming and pulverizing his pelvis with hers, going deeper and deeper. He kept hitting the end and she did not care, not one bit. There would be seed in her, Gregor's seed, and it would fill her to bursting and that's all she wanted.

It was coming and he could not stop it. He could only accept the torrent that would issue forth and wash away his mind.

It came and he could not breathe. Pulsing twitching, spasming everything in his body poured into her. Shot after shot after shot of viscous, potent seed into her and he had more, so much more to give her. Pulse and twitch and empty himself into her, that was all he could, every nerve and ounce of his mind devoted to the simple task of impregnating Lina. She still rode him, up and down, coaxing every drop he could produce out of him and into her.

Her stomach bulged from the deluge, the impenetrable wall of her muscles giving in to his seed. A small victory in the grand scheme of things, but Gregor was still proud. She would not walk away from this particular encounter with a clean victory.

The release stopped and left him empty and clean, mind blank and calm and Zen as Lina collapsed on top of him. His stomach hurt, the muscles at his core worked to the brink to state his mate's hunger.

Lina was exhausted, that final burst of energy sapping her reserves, and the new weight added to her belly made even the thought of movement tiring. But she was full, so full, full enough to bloat and grow her stomach round where it once was flat. That's nice, that warmth in her core slowly growing out to the rest of her body. Content, she was content and satisfied and full and there was food on the hearth, slowly coming to an edible state, and a roof that kept them dry and shielded them from the worst of the cold.

"Baby," said Lina, as she huffed and panted.

"Love you," said Gregor, just as out of breath.

"Love you too."

---

"Mr. Stanton, I must inquire about some odd rumors I have heard about your grounds," said Lady Forsteri as she sipped her tea.

Mr. Stanton wished his own cup of tea were rum. Or at least ale. But it was tea. It had to be tea, nothing else would do. Stanton had to drink tea. Shellback drank rum and alcohol and things that burned the throat as they went down. This thing was oily and saturated with the cloying scent of perfume. It needed to be sharper, rougher. But it wasn't. He had some edges that needed to be cut off with the change in lifestyle. Sacrifices and payoffs and the ever-looming threat of death if he ever kept up the old life. Very few pirates got gray hair. And he wanted to experience the terror of finding one of those in the mirror for himself.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Miss Forsteri," said the Stanton that was really a Shellback.

"Come now, no need to be coy. I'm talking about the people living in the forest on your grounds. The savages."

Now Stanton really wished that this were rum. Something to burn and quieten down the rush of anger through his body. Or make it worse. He wasn't really sure what he wanted the cup to be full of. There should be a pistol around here somewhere. That would be the real cincher for what he wanted. He settled for setting down the cup and folding his hands. She didn't notice. Lady Forsteri was lost in the sound of her own voice.

"I think its commendable, really. Giving these people a better life, so far away from the horrors of their home. Giving them something resembling society. I mean, I wouldn't want them roaming around. That would be too much for their delicate constitutions. But I think this is a wonderful compromise."

"You do realize you are talking about my friends correct?"

"Oh, you consider them friends. I suppose that makes sense. I have a dog, a waterhound, that I cherish dearly. Sometimes I feel that we are friends."

He needed a gun, something to pull just to get her to stop talking for a moment. Blessed silence from the woman trying to court him. He didn't want her here. But here she was, and he wanted rum and a pistol and all he had was a cup of tea and an itchy cravat that choked his words.

He sighed.

"Lady Forsteri, whatever goodwill you came here with has just been exhausted. Get out of my home."

"Mr. Stanton, you are making- "

"I am throwing out a guest that has compared some of my dearest friends to dogs. What would you do in this situation? Get out of my home, or I will throw you out."

"Really, Mr. Stanton. You prefer the company of savages over me? Is that really what you are insinuating?

"I am not insinuating anything. You forget who I am. I am a savage as well."

Mr. Stanton smiled a crooked smile and Lady Forsteri swore she could smell gunpowder.