An indiscernible noise escapes your lips at the sight of his perfectly sculpted torso, as if you hadn't seen it every day at some point. The nautilus shell glows ominously around his neck. Your eyes drop down his frame to the V—the protruding, hard V—that now hints to something forbidden. You shakily meet his burning gaze as he looms over you, hands slithering around your waist and to the corset's drawstrings where he brusquely undoes them and discards the garment. A rush of breath collapses your chest. He grins, suddenly ripping your dress off. You practically melt into his arms that hike your legs about his narrow waist as he carries you to the bed.
He drops you unceremoniously, not that he has time to be otherwise.
The heat that's been boiling inside bids you to tug hard at his pants, causing him to almost topple atop of you if it isn't for his quick reflexes. He doesn't bother intervening while you grope what you can only guess is the human's version of a sex, all the while he takes in your bare form with his powdery blue eyes. "First impatient to touch yourself, and now impatient to touch me, Captain?" He chides, grunting when you manage to shuck his pants down enough for him to be exposed.
What your hand meets practically burns your palm when it squeezes the rock hard appendage. Ursul groans hoarsely, hips flexing into your grip, and yet he removes it and subsequently flips you onto your right side. The bed creaks from his weight and broken mewls tear from your throat at the scorching, languid kisses he lines your ass then hip with, his hand grasping your inner thigh and making its way to your weeping folds. He makes an appeased sound once realizing he won't need to wet his fingers, and wastes no time slipping two inside you.
Your mouth flies open, fingers digging into the sheets that you bury your face in, and focus on each knuckle that he inserts.
Ursul chuckles. "Oh my," he drawls, twisting his hand carefully as though feeling for something. "Is the Captain untouched?"
The implication doesn't dawn on you right away. "W-what do you mean?" You ask through the haze. Another high pitched mewl erupts when he pulls his digits out then reinserts them with a low groan of his own.
His eyes all but are set alight as he looks up at your twisted expression. "Is the Captain's womanly innocence mine for the taking?" He hums wickedly, and the feeling of being devoured instantly washes over you.
"Well..." you pant, shuddering upon another stroke. "If it's such a big deal—ah!"
One more finger is added inside you slowly, but forcefully. "Oh it's a very big deal," Ursul seethes, whole body now grinding along with his ministrations. "What an honor, Captain. I would promise to be gentle and kind, but well...I'd be lying."
You cuss after a squeal that's in response to him pushing his digits until they're fully sheathed. When he removes them entirely, he grips your thighs and peels them apart—skin already sticky from arousal—and lowers his face comfortably between them so every breath fans across your sex, sending powerful chills throughout your body. His nose nuzzles dangerously close as he growls, low and drawn out. There's even a deep inhale. "To taste flesh untamed, untainted, unfulfilled..." he breathes, still slick fingers leaving glistening lines down your stomach and legs. "You really have spoiled me."
Without another word, Ursul's gaping mouth clamps onto your folds, tongue taking up residence within to both taste and clean the mess he'd made, another savage growl vibrating into you. The immediate arching of your back and startled moan fuels his motions. He lifts your shapely thighs over his arms, broad shoulders balancing them effortlessly while his tongue delves in further, harder, lapping up your pure essence. It's such a divine flavor, such a rare delight that he's eagerly feasting on. Your hips buck into his ministrations that earn uncontrollable shudders and whimpers that you can't fight nor lessen, but simply mumble an incoherent mantra of his name with each stroke of his tongue. It rubs something previously unknown to you, a spot so chillingly pleasurable that you're rendered helpless against salvaging any shred of dignity and, instead, give in to the blinding heat pooling in your loins that spills forth more ambrosia for Ursul to devour.
He buries his face between your legs to burrow deeper and deeper inside you. An ecstatic, pitching moan arches your back as fingers desperately twine with his fiery hair, allowing you to feel the fast paced bobbing of his head that's accompanied by ungodly sucking and lapping sounds. Control was once thought to be lost when he'd steal kisses in the shadows of the palace; it's clear that was a red herring, for now it's been so ferociously abandoned it feels as though you're being eaten alive. You're not entirely certain if his impassioned tongue fucking is even for your pleasure or his—the ravenous groans tearing from him hint at the latter. Tears prick the edges of your eyes at the ever growing heat that now fills your stomach and legs he pushes towards your chest, and with a hard suck to your pearl of pleasure, you're overtaken. A lust-laden scream ricochets off the chamber walls, an intoxicating testament to your first ever climax that Ursul has gifted you in a matter of minutes.
With an animalistic growl, Ursul removes his mouth, tongue cleaning chin and lips, and stalks up your quivering body that rolls back onto its side so your face disappears into the sheets. Through the throbbing of your head, you vaguely discern him speaking.
"Take a breath," he orders.
Does he not hear the hyperventilation coming from you? Before you can criticize his lack of observation, Ursul jerks his slender hips and impales you, and all that comes from your mouth is a strangled moan. He lets loose a similar, unintelligible sound that turns into a throaty groan he sustains as he presses forward with determination, not stopping till you've fully enveloped him. You writhe beneath his massive frame even though a hand pins your thighs to the bed while the other holds him up. The sensation of being filled to capacity is overwhelming, almost as if it can be felt in your stomach, then lungs, then throat where another choked moan slips when he pulls out and pushes back in. Absentmindedly you cling to his arm by your face, brow resting on wrist, and cup his bicep.
Every roll of his body remains slow, measured—whether for your sake or his—and you find yourself marveling at the perfection of the large male, his exquisite physique even more flawless than you had originally imagined. While broad in frame and well defined, human Ursul is a sleek creature – his musculature combined with his daunting height gives him a powerful yet graceful appearance. His arms are hard like stone, encased in the velvet softness of pale, faultless flesh. The muscles in his back tense beneath your fingers as you carefully study each small grouping with lusty fascination. Continuing your thorough exploration, you notice a sudden yet slight change in your lover's movements, the once gentle thrusting having increased in both force and speed. You respond in kind, arching yourself while flexing your hips upward, curling against him with a delighted, shuddering moan.
You're swelling his already massive ego, you know, by reacting so beautifully to everything he does, but the thought is far from your mind when the pleasure coursing through every vein is blinding. He's singlehandedly created and subsequently filled an emptiness within you for him to take—and god is he taking it. His hips roll so sensually into your ass like a wave of the ocean; each ebb and flow of his engorged length draws your strained breaths with it till you're drowning in pleasure.
"Well, well," Ursul hums, ending it by pushing harder against your womb. A whimper is caught behind your teeth as you glare at him from the corner of your eye. "What was that adorable quip about not being corrupted?"
Instincts kick in. It takes every ounce of concentration to form a coherent sentence. "I'm not...corrupted," you grunt, though your nails practically dig into his wrist.
Something dark flashes in his eyes, wicked smirk forming while he shifts his grip to the top of your thighs near your hip joint. "Still denying the obvious, dear? It's unwise to lie to yourself."
He thrusts so forcefully a loud clap sounds, and you barely choke down the moan it almost elicits. "I'm not the one lying to themselves, or to me, for that matter," you breathe. "You're the one who said they'd break me, and yet I remain intact." Where are you going with this? Challenging Ursul has never been a smart course of action, and yet you stand firmly behind your words. A nausea builds in your belly at the resulting narrowing of his pupils. The last time you witnessed this, he was seconds away from betraying Triton.
His voice comes out scathingly low. "Careful... You're asking for more than you can handle."
You say nothing.
A wide, malicious grin creases his face that causes you to shiver. He purrs, flipping you face down onto the bed. Still snugly submerged in your core, he mounts your ass before a hand grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your head back, ripping a pleasingly painful groan from your chest. His cold lips tease your ear. "Aye aye, Captain."
There is no helping the startled scream that bursts from your mouth at that first, unexpected impact, the strength behind his thrusting rocking you violently and pushing it from your lungs. The wet slap of flesh is very quickly joined with a chorus of deep, animalistic snarls and high, elated moans, the music of your joining filling the space to a near deafening degree. You twist helplessly, writhing on the ruined sheets like a woman gone mad. His furious pace is driving you to another pinnacle; he can see it in the flushing of your (s/c) skin and feel it in the mild trembling of your legs. Your heart hammers loudly in your chest, your supple body thrashing as he winds an arm across your collarbone and drives himself faster still into your wetness.
Yet it isn't enough. He wants to hear you screaming for your stubbornness, to have you crying his name to the heavens above, to the kingdom below. Ursul will screw you until you can no longer function. The sorcerer would show you exactly what it means to challenge the next King of Atlantica, and perhaps when this is finally over you'll know better than to flap your tongue so dangerously.
You begin feeling the warmth of that incredible friction pooling in your lower regions once more, the beginnings of release making your toes curl and breath quicken. You feel ready to break, the pleasure tightening inside until you're certain it can tighten no further. One large hand cradles your hip and guides you up into every fierce thrust, the other curved underneath to roughly massage the swelled bead between your legs. The onslaught of combined pleasures is enough to send you into a squirming fit if it isn't for his unforgiving weight holding you still.
Ursul then leans over to brush his lips along your ear, arching your back painfully so your ass stays firmly planted against his lap, and in a voice as sinful as it is dominating, he whispers a single word:
"Break."
He gives an especially hard thrust and simultaneously pinches that bead, everything comes to a screeching, suspended halt... and then you explode.
"Yeesss!" you shout jubilantly, stars dancing across your vision. Eyes rolling back, you grasp desperately at one thickly corded forearm, human nails scoring deep crescents into Ursul's lilac flesh.
He is unrelenting in his pace, not slowing even when you begin to twitch with tiny aftershocks. Instead, he picks up speed further till the bed bounces violently beneath you in a way that has you rocketing up into his penetrating length, never allowing you a moment to recover. A ravenous growls tear out of Ursul's throat—your slick channel has clenched down on him like an unforgiving fist, and it is delicious. The swelling of his groin is dangerously tempting to give in to—to coat your walls and irreversibly steal the last of your innocence, claiming you body and soul—but he's too greedy of a man to be finished with you just yet.
With a reluctant grunt, he pulls out of your snug core and turns you over. The removal of his thick member leaves you achingly empty, however it permits you a quick moment of sanity and rest. Panting through ragged breaths strewn with mewls, you brush your (h/c) hair away from the sweaty plane of your forehead and struggle to focus on the vaulted ceiling. It becomes nearly impossible to do so from the phantom sensation of still being screwed, that sensitive spot of ecstasy lighting up every half second as though Ursul remains deep inside you. Whatever just happened really left you in a blind daze.
You soon gather your senses enough to look down at Ursul, who stands by your feet watching you rather impatiently. To your surprise and dark delight, he's still fully erect. "What?" you snap.
An almost indiscernible glint sparks across his eyes. His hands grip your knees and force them open, eliciting a yelp from you. "Your tongue's still flapping after you've broken so tremendously?" he asks jeeringly. The comment is directed to the large dark stain settled beneath your ass, and to the sticky sheen coating your inner thighs. "I thought a Captain would know when to back away from a losing fight."
He's right. Completely right. However, you've also been taught be resourceful in regards to obtaining an optimal outcome, and that optimal outcome right now is another rut. It's clear you're letting Ursul of all people have his way with you, but there's not a single care in your body anymore. He's already beaten them out of you.
Smirking, you spread your legs a margin further, his icy blue eyes flickering down at the flushed feast. "Well if you don't want any more..." you sigh and move as if to retire to bed. With inhuman speed you're yanked then thrown into Ursul's arms, legs straddling his narrow waist. His nails flex into your thighs as he dares to ghost his lips across yours.
"If you want me to keep fucking you, you should just say so, dear," he hums, his cool breath tickling your front. You gawk soundlessly while he carries you to the window that opens without him touching it. The night air causes you to shiver, and it only worsens when he sets you down on the pillowed sill. You feel the scorching heat of his member undulating against you, and if it isn't for his arm behind your back, you'd collapse and probably fall to your death. Then again, what Ursul has in store for you might be worse. (God, you hope it's worse.)
He makes a circular motion with a finger. "Turn around."
Clicking your tongue, you shakily do as he says. "You're getting rather audacious with the orders," you mutter, stifling an elated sigh at his mouth that lines your shoulder and neck with bites and kisses, his hands cupping your breasts firmly.
When he pulls his lips away, he chuckles, teeth grazing your ear, "Don't take it too hard, dear."
His hands slither between your thighs and yet again you're tossed upwards with your legs completely splayed.
You lean into him, arms wound behind his head. "What're you doing...?" You ask, hesitant, squirming nervously at the cool breeze that caresses your exposed loins. You feel his hips flex and you're dropped with brutal force onto his girth. You can barely hear yourself moan over his rabid growl.
"Proving to you and my dear brother once and for all that you belong to me," he hisses. Before you can rebut, he's bouncing you effortlessly on his stalwart member that's completely drawn out then rammed back in over and over again. Every inch of your body wants to fold in on itself from the blinding pleasure; his grip under your knees prevents this, obliging nails to hold stead fast to the hair on his nape till they dig into your palm, yet the keening wail isn't in response to the pain. Not even close.
"Look at the kingdom soon to be ours, sweetcheeks," he says breathily, throatily. Through squinted eyes you obey him once more. Though it's night, you can't help but imagine the probing stares of the merfolk below, watching in horror as their Captain is violated so violently by the outcast prince. Ursul seems to read your mind. "Do you see what I've done to your precious Captain, Triton?" he shouts as he pulls back his hips to thrust into you hard.
You let out a mangled sound and toss your head back onto his shoulder.
"She's no longer yours, you fool," he grins. "Tell us, (y/n), who is the true king of Atlantica?"
You open your mouth only for jolted mewls to be heard. "U...Ursul," you whimper. He picks up speed abruptly till you're practically screaming.
"Speak up, dear. We want Triton to hear that pretty voice of yours."
The request is hardly registered, for you're struggling to merely breathe and keep yourself from blacking out. "Fuck," you groan low, arching against his chest. "URSUL!"
At the sound of his name, the sorcerer moans and feels the swelling return. His massive thighs begin shaking at the quickly nearing climax. Only a few more strokes—"Atlantica belongs to us, doesn't it?!"
"Yes, my King!" You cry out.
"And we will not fail this time!"
"Yessss!"
Ursul buries himself to the hilt within you as a torrent of scorching heat covers your walls. The sensation is beyond anything you've experienced; it sends you squirming in his arms, his face buried in your hair while he growls with each load that wrenches from him. It's overwhelming to the point you truly believe you're melting inside and out and collapse in his hold, finally giving in to the blackout.
You're not convinced you actually fainted until you wake up the next morning in the bed, only Ursul is no where to be seen. Groaning, you stiffly sit up—legs and back aching—and try to stretch your sore body. It was apparent he was rough, but you didn't think he'd been that rough. The door opens and the man behind your pains waltzes, smug smirk plastered as usual, and hands you his cape—you also note he's wearing nothing but a small sheet tied around his waist.
"Good morning, my Queen," he hums pleasantly as he leans over to kiss your forehead. Instinctually you tilt to catch his lips, but he retracts.
Sighing, you observe the faded navy sky. "What time is it?" You ask, voice cracking from previous strain.
"Just before sunrise," he replies, "Which is why we must hurry along."
"Why?"
He chuckles and bows over to now kiss your neck, though it's firmer and lingers. He's doing that thing to shut you up again, you realize, and yet you can't resist giving in. "Just be a good girl and come along. Everything will be explained in a matter of minutes," he says with an outstretched hand.
Shaking your head, you accept it and stand, but the moment you shift your weight onto your foot, you crumble into him—though he appears to have been anticipating it. Sure enough, when you look up at his grinning, angled face, he seems more smug than before. "What'd you do?" You ask, scowling.
He swoops you up bridal style and starts for the door "Nothing, angelfish. But I was hoping I had fucked the mobility out of you. Think of it as a self achievement," he winks, causing you to blush furiously and avert your gaze. He chuckles again and carries you out the house, down to the shoreline, and sets you down on a large boulder. The hard stone elicits a wince when it presses into your sensitive underside. It doesn't go unnoticed. "Don't tell me I was too rough..."
You attempt to put up your hard exterior and wave him off. "Nothing I couldn't handle," you scoff.
"Still lying, are we?" He cocks a brow. "Cause if I need to drag you back into bed—"
"No!" You yell, hand out. "That's not...necessary. You've made your point."
Ursul chuckles darkly.
"What'd you bring us out for?" Change of subject.
"I said I'd explain the situation, didn't I?" Ursul nears you and palms the boulder beside your thighs. "It's time for us to return to Atlantica, unfortunately, meaning you finally get to kiss me like you've been dying to." Without hesitating you go in to do just that, but, yet again, you meet his finger. He's really starting to piss you off with being apparently vague. "Patience, Captain. I must explain why a kiss will unravel the spell."
Huffing, you sit back with arms crossed and motion for him to continue.
He smirks. "If I wished to return to my true form, I'd have to kiss you specifically for a very specific reason. A reason, I sincerely hope, is the same for you as well; a reason that prevents either of us from planting kisses on just anybody."
Beyond the horizon the sun begins to rise, spilling hues of orange and amber into his fiery hair. Taking that as his cue, Ursul picks you back up and wades waist deep into the water though you still bear a perturbed expression. "Which is?" You ask.
In that moment, Ursul looks at you in a way that makes you feel as though you're melting all over again, and with the smoothest voice, he says, "True love, you fool."
A smile more brilliant than the golden sun sets on your face and you fling your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his as fervently as possible. The second you do, you can feel yourself engulfed in glimmering light, your shape shifting and binding. And soon dozens of tiny suckers begin lining your body with kisses till you break away giggling to see his tentacles wrapped about you. But you're not allowed to ogle for long, for he guides your mouth back to his where his tongue glides inside to taste what he's long missed and hungered for, and without another word, he returns the two of you into the ocean towards your future kingdom.
~Fin~
