Chapter 65: Claiming Natasha – Part 5 ( R18 )

Natasha’s world shattered, her vision going white as a blinding flash of pure, unadulterated sensation as Jax’s massive, impossibly hard cock slammed into her. It wasn’t just an entry; it was a conquest.

He split her open, a brutal, searing stretch that burned through her every nerve ending. The toys had been a prelude, a cruel appetizer. This was the main course, and it was a feast of agony and ecstasy.

His cock, thick and ridged with veins, felt like a hot iron being forged inside her, reshaping her pussy to fit his will, his length driving so deep it felt like it was punching into her stomach.

A scream, raw and primal, was torn from her throat, but it was immediately cut off as her breath was stolen from her lungs. Her body, already weak and trembling from the repeated orgasms, bucked violently.

Her hands, which had been braced against the bed, flew out to her sides, scrabbling for purchase on the slick black silk, but finding none. She was completely at his mercy, impaled on the most overwhelming sensation she had ever known.

Jax didn’t move. He stayed buried to the hilt, his heavy balls resting against her clit, letting her feel the full, intimidating weight of him.

He let her adjust, let the initial shock of the invasion settle into a throbbing, aching fullness.

He could feel her inner walls fluttering and clenching around him, a desperate, involuntary attempt to either expel him or draw him in deeper. It was the final, frantic struggle of a conquered fortress.

“Gods… you’re… you’re…” she sobbed, her voice a broken, breathless thing. She couldn’t finish the thought. She couldn’t think. There was only the feeling of him inside her, a brand of ownership seared into her very core.

“Still?” Jax’s voice was a low, mocking rumble above her. He leaned over, his chest pressing against her back, his lips brushing against her ear. “Still so tight. It’s almost insulting. After all the effort I put into loosening you up, you’re still fighting me. Useless.”

He pulled back, slowly, agonizingly. Natasha felt every inch of him retreating, the sudden emptiness a cold, hollow ache that was almost as torturous as the fullness.

She whimpered, a pathetic, needy sound, her hips pushing back involuntarily, trying to follow him, to keep him inside. She was already addicted.

Then, he thrust forward again, just as hard as the first time.

~SLAP!~

The sound of his hips meeting her ass echoed in the cell, a sharp, percussive beat to their symphony of lust.

The impact sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through her, his pelvis grinding against her still-sensitive ass cheeks, the faint magical warmth from the paddle flaring back to life.

He set a brutal, punishing rhythm. Each withdrawal was a slow, teasing torment, each thrust a powerful, possessive claim. He was fucking her, but he was also scolding her, his words a constant, humiliating counterpoint to the bliss he was forcing upon her.

“Is that the best you can do?” he grunted, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises. “Just lying there like a dead fish? A Hero should have better stamina. A better *anything*. Move. Fuck me back.”

Natasha’s mind, a soupy mess of pleasure and confusion, struggled to process the command. Move? How? She was being battered by a storm, a vessel tossed on an ocean of bliss. How could she possibly do anything but endure?

“I… I can’t…” she whimpered, her face buried in the sheets, muffling her words. “It’s… too much…”

~SLAP!~

His hand came down hard on her ass, a sharp, stinging blow that was all pain, a stark contrast to the pleasure of the paddle.

“Don’t tell me what you can’t do,” he snarled, his voice losing its calm, teasing edge and becoming genuinely cold, “I told you to move. You will obey. Now, rock your hips. Push back against me when I thrust. Show me you want it. Show me you’re not completely useless.”

The command cut through the haze. The fear of his displeasure, of him stopping, was a more powerful motivator than anything else. She had to please him.

With a groan of immense effort, focusing every shred of her fractured will, Natasha tried to obey. As he pulled back for another thrust, she pushed her hips back, meeting him halfway.

The effect was instantaneous and cataclysmic.

By meeting his thrust, she drove him even deeper than before. The broad head of his cock, which had been battering against her cervix, now slammed past it with a force that stole her breath.

It hit the back of her womb, the magical, artificially-lowered entrance to her most sacred place. A new, blinding, almost painful sensation erupted deep within her, a profound, full-body jolt that was unlike anything she had ever felt.

It was a pleasure so deep, so fundamental, it felt like he was touching her soul.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

The scream that tore from her lips was one of pure, shocked ecstasy. Her entire body convulsed, a powerful, shattering orgasm ripping through her without warning.

Her pussy clamped down on his cock like a vise, her juices flooding out around him, soaking the sheets beneath them.

“There,” Jax grunted, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “Was that so hard? Again.”

He didn’t stop his rhythm. If anything, he fucked her harder, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding. And Natasha, now having discovered the secret, obeyed without question.

She became a frantic, desperate thing, a bitch in heat as he had called her.

She rocked her hips back to meet every one of his powerful thrusts, actively driving him deeper into herself, actively seeking that mind-shattering collision with her womb.

She was lost. The woman, the Hero, the person she had been was gone, obliterated in a maelstrom of pleasure. In her place was this new creature, this wanton, moaning slut whose entire world had shrunk to the feeling of the thick cock pounding into her.

Her moans were constant now, a loud, shameless chorus of “Ah! Ah! Ah! Yes! Gods! Yes! Harder! Please, harder!” She was no longer just being fucked; she was fucking him back, a willing, eager participant in her own degradation, her own transcendence.

The cell was filled with the sounds of their coupling: the rhythmic ~PLAP~PLAP~PLAP!~ of flesh meeting flesh, the wet, squelching sounds of her dripping pussy, his guttural grunts of exertion, and her loud, unrestrained cries of bliss.

The air, thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and the lingering aphrodisiac, was a heady perfume of submission.

Jax watched her, his golden eyes burning with a possessive fire. He saw the way her body moved, the desperate arch of her back, the way she threw her head back in ecstasy, her hair a wild, tangled mess.

He had broken her, yes, but he had also remade her. He had taken the proud, defiant Hero and unleashed the primal, sexual creature that had been caged inside her all along.

He reached down, tangled his fist in her hair, and yanked her head up, pulling her back against his chest.

He continued to piston into her, his other arm wrapping around her waist to hold her steady. He bit down hard on her shoulder, a sharp, possessive pain that only added to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled in her ear, his voice a harsh, demanding rumble.

“YOU!” she screamed, her voice hoarse from crying out. “I BELONG TO YOU! ONLY YOU!”

“Whose cock is this?”

“YOURS! YOUR COCK! IT’S YOUR COCK!”

“Whose womb?”

“YOURS! YOUR WOMB! IT’S YOURS TO FILL!”

Her answers were immediate, instinctual, the absolute truth as she now understood it. There was no hesitation, no thought. There was only the need to please him, to affirm the reality he had forged for her in fire and pleasure.

Satisfied with her answers, Jax released her hair, letting her fall forward onto the bed again. He gripped her hips with both hands, his knuckles white, and began to fuck her with a renewed, almost frantic energy.

He was chasing his own release now, and he was using her body to get there. Natasha felt the change, felt his cock swelling even larger inside her, felt his thrusts becoming shorter, more erratic. She knew what was coming.

She redoubled her efforts, pushing back against him with all her strength, grinding her ass against him, milking his cock with her inner muscles, desperate for his final gift.

With a final, triumphant roar, Jax slammed into her one last time, burying himself as deep as he could go. His cock erupted, a second, even more powerful torrent of his scalding hot, virile seed blasting directly into her waiting womb.

The feeling of being filled so completely, so deeply, was the final, ultimate pleasure. Natasha’s entire body went rigid, her back arching into a perfect, painful curve as the biggest, most soul-shattering orgasm of her life tore through her.

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