Content Warning – 18+ Consensual
This chapter contains mature themes, including consensual sensual combat (Westling) and emotional degradation within an adult fantasy context. All interactions depicted are consensual and part of a fictional universe where physical intimacy is a form of strategic battle. Reader discretion is advised.
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Kara's memory spiraled into the moment when her fight slipped completely from her hands.
The goblinoid's pace had grown faster, harder, each thrust pounding into her body with relentless rhythm. His weight pressed her down, pinning her hips to the dirt as if declaring his dominance. Sweat dripped from his brow onto her cheek, salty, musky, staining her flushed skin.
Her cries rang through the trees, tangled between desperation and the strange betrayal of her body:
"Ahhh—hahhhhnnn—d-don't—no—i-it's too—hhhaaahhhhnnnn—!"
But the truth was written across her face. Her small chest heaved violently, nipples tight, her back arching so far it almost hurt. Her wide hips bucked without meaning to, betraying her words as much as the hot tears at the corners of her eyes. Her hips moved on their own, responding to the rhythm with traitorous enthusiasm, defying the resistance she tried to hold.
No… no, I can't…! I can't lose like this…!
Her mind tried to hold to the thought, tried to tell herself she could still resist, that she could still reverse and win. But each time his hips slammed against hers, the air rushed from her lungs in a stuttered moan, her focus shattered.
His grip tightened on her, not cruelly but firmly, like a teacher demonstrating control in a grappling match. His guttural grunts mixed with her cries, filling the air with the carnal rhythm of combat that had twisted into something else.
Her thighs quivered, her body clinging to him even as she tried to think of escape. But with every thrust, a new pulse of warmth spread from deep inside her stomach, crawling outward, setting her skin aflame.
Th-this isn't right…! I was supposed to win… supposed to—supposed to—
Her thoughts collapsed into fragments, no longer coherent, drowned out by sensation. Her voice cracked again, a moan escaping raw and uncontrolled:
"Ahhhhhhhnnnnnn—n-no—ahhhhnnnn—haaahhhhhh—!"
The goblinoid growled low, his thrusts turning sharp, erratic. She felt it—the tense, sudden shudder in his movements, the heavy pulse building deep inside him. Her eyes widened, but her body was already too far gone. Her hips jerked upward in reflex, as though welcoming it.
And then it hit her.
A surge of heat pulsed deep inside her, his body trembling above hers as the match reached its peak.
Hot release flooded her core in thick waves, searing warmth pouring into her as his body tensed over hers. His guttural cry tore through the clearing as his climax overtook him, hips grinding down into her with desperate, rutting force.
Kara's own body betrayed her completely. The sudden surge inside her ignited something she could no longer hold back. Her walls clenched around him involuntarily, her toes curling, her thighs locking tight. Her voice broke into a long, uncontrolled scream, a moan so raw and shameless it didn't even sound like her.
"HHhhhaaahhhhhhHHhhhnnnnnnngghhhhhh—!!"
Her vision blurred, stars sparking at the edges as she trembled violently beneath him, wracked with the overwhelming tide of sensation. Her body shook, convulsed, caught in the storm of a climax she hadn't wanted but couldn't deny.
Her mind drowned. N-no… I… I lost… but… it… it feels… too…goo....HHhhhaaahh...good!
Her mouth hung open, drool slipping at the corner as her eyes glazed, tongue pressing against her teeth. The shame twisted with raw ecstasy, trapping her in a state that made her feel more exposed than any wound in battle.
The goblinoid collapsed partially over her, panting, his hips still pulsing small aftershocks inside her. The sound of his ragged breath mixed with the faint chirps of the forest, the world eerily quiet around their union.
Kara lay beneath him, chest heaving violently, sweat matting her bangs to her forehead. She was trembling all over, her thighs still twitching around his hips, her hands weakly clenching the dirt.
Her thoughts returned in broken pieces. I… I lost… he beat me like this… Her face twisted, torn between despair and an unwilling acknowledgement. But… it… it felt…
Shame. Defeat. And a strange, confusing satisfaction burned through her.
The goblinoid finally shifted, pulling back, leaving her trembling and filled. A trail of white seeped down her thighs, glistening against her flushed skin. She moaned softly at the emptiness that followed, her body shivering as if rejecting the separation.
She lay there, staring blankly at the canopy of leaves above, lips parted, chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths.
Westling… she thought, dazed and flushed. It's not just dangerous—it's intoxicating.