"You're mine," he said, low and even, driving her up the table with every word. "Mine to fuck. Mine to march. Mine to keep."
"YES...! HIEEKK...! KEEP ME...!!"
He finished buried to the root, holding her hips flush to his, pumping her full in long pulses while she clawed the maps and wailed at the tent roof, her whole body shuddering through her release around his.
Pah. Pah.
Then quiet. Lamps hissing. Distant camp sounds.
Vess lay sprawled across the map of the hive's border, thighs trembling, his seed leaking onto the very nest towns they would burn, and she started laughing again, breathless and satisfied.
"You're going to make me march tomorrow."
"You'll keep up."
"I always keep up, my lord." She rolled her head sideways, looking at the open flaps, at the fires, at the whole listening camp. "Let them stare. They should know what the man who owns them owns."
He ruffled her red hair like a good dog's, and she closed her eyes and purred like a wolf.
