Chapter 39: Mother Of Monsters & Devils?
Chapter 39: Mother Of Monsters & Devils?
Ayala prowled closer with a predatory grace, her eyes locked onto mine. I stood frozen, caught between anticipation and the sheer presence of a woman who towered half a foot over me. The moment she stepped beneath the shower, the rain-like spray slicked her skin, sending a sudden spike of heat straight through me. Seeing her like this, unburdened and powerful, completely shattered whatever restraint I had left.
"Let me," I muttered, my voice thick.
I worked up a thick lather, my hands finally finding their purpose as I began to clean her body. Ayala leaned her head back, running long fingers through her vivid red hair. She didn't flinch at the touch of my soapy hands; instead, she let out a slow breath, leaning into the contact like a statue warming under a sculptor's chisel.
Her emerald eyes drifted down to meet mine, tracing the sheer intensity on my face. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "My heart is beating quickly for my first mating," she murmured, her voice a low vibration in the small space. "You have earned my respect, Loki. Take me when you want me."
"Just let me memorize you first," I replied, my hands mapping out the lines of her hips and thighs, trying to ground myself. "This matters to me. Your form is incredible, Ayala."
Stepping behind her, I guided her damp hair over her shoulder to clear the way. I washed her back and shoulders, the hot water pooling between us.
The moment the soap rinsed away, I wrapped my arms around her from behind. My right hand slid lower, testing her readiness. Even with her staggering height, her skin felt remarkably human—soft, yielding, yet packed with dense, coiled muscle.
I leaned in, pressing my mouth against her shoulder and neck. The height difference made the angle awkward, leaving me feeling distinctly short at five-foot-ten, but the sudden hitch in her breathing erased any awkwardness. Ayala pressed her palms flat against the tiled wall, her knuckles whitening. She was actively fighting the urge to pin me to the floor and take what she wanted by force.
When she parted her legs slightly, giving me room, all hesitation evaporated. I gripped her hips, pulling her back against me. I knew from experience she had the terrifying physical durability of someone like Yin Meng, so I didn't hold back. I guided myself in, pushing forward until we were flushed together.
A sharp gasp escaped her. "Finally, Loki! Now finish inside of me soon... My frustrations are building. If you don't suppress me, I might just turn this around and force myself on you."
Looking down at her arched back, her spread stance, and the absolute focus of her posture, a surge of competitive pride flared up. I gripped her baby-making hips tightly and drove forward with rapid, heavy thrusts, channeling every ounce of stamina I had. I wanted to overwhelm her, to hear her cry out and plead for a break, but I was vastly underestimating Amazon physiology.
"Loki, don't hold back," she gasped, her head tilting back to watch my strained expression. She actually smiled at the sheer effort I was putting in. "We won't be done with only one round. Just give me as much as you can. The more the better!"
Her words acted like a bizarre stimulant. The sudden, fierce contraction of her internal muscles felt like a direct challenge to my capabilities. I intensified the pace, abandoning all rhythm for pure force, until the inevitable wave crashed over me.
"I love you, Ayala... I'm spent!" I choked out, my core tightening as everything drained into her.
She grunted, pushing back hard against me to catch every drop. "I want your babies. All of them. Give me dozens, Loki!"
Even as the exhaustion began to creep into my limbs, her unyielding grip kept me anchored. She rolled her hips, entirely unfazed by the pace. "You will tire yourself out like this," she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "Get on your back. Let me take over."
I didn't argue. Without some high-tier magical healing, I was going to burn out in minutes.
As I slowly pulled away from the slick connection, I tried to catch my breath, blinking away the steam. "Ayala... what if... what if it's a boy?"
She didn't answer with words. She turned around, pulled me down onto the wet tile floor, and claimed my mouth in a fierce, breathless kiss. Before I could process the sudden shift, she was straddling me, guiding me right back inside her.
Fully seated in a dominant cowgirl posture, she sat upright. The water beat down on her face, and for a split second, her green eyes went completely vacant—looking down at me with the terrifying, obsessive gaze of someone who had just found her entire universe.
"If it's a boy... I will raise him, train him, and love him, because he is yours," she whispered, her voice chillingly sweet. "I will birth you dozens of boys if that is what you want. Girls are monsters, boys are devils. Who cares? As long as you keep me pregnant and love me, the world can burn."
She began to move with a brutal, relentless rhythm. Despite the dazed, unhinged look on her face, she looked radiantly happy. The sheer intensity of her pace forced my battered stamina to rally, driving me right back to the edge.
"Ayala, wait, I'm cumming again—"
She didn't slow down, absorbing the sudden rush with a deep groan. She took my hands, forcing them up onto her hips and chest. "Feel my heart," she commanded. "Make me happy!"
Knock! Knock!
The sudden, heavy thud on the bathroom door shattered the atmosphere. Thorin’s booming voice echoed from the corridor. "Loki! You in there? It’s been ages!"
The sudden interruption sparked immediate fury in Ayala. Her internal muscles clamped down like a vice, effectively pinning me in place so I couldn't even think of retreating. She whirled her head toward the door and screamed, "Fuck off! I'm getting pregnant! Don't disturb my breeding!"
I could only offer a silent, panicked thumbs-up in my mind. Her sheer, terrifying dedication was almost admirable. Recognizing the shifts in my expression, Ayala smirked and redoubled her speed, pinning my hands down as she drove us both toward another frantic finish. She leaned down, biting and marking my neck and shoulders as her own climax hit, completely tuning out the world outside.
An hour later, the magical water core finally sputtered and died, leaving the shower cold.
I was mercifully back on top, but I was entirely hollowed out, barely managing a fraction of what I had before. My head rested against her chest, listening to the steady thud of her heart. Ayala’s fingers casually drifted through my red hair, her expression entirely serene.
"I think I understand human happiness now," she murmured, a genuine, relaxed smile gracing her features. "This feeling of content... it is very refreshing. You did well, my Loki."
With a monumental effort, I dragged myself away from the obsessed Amazon, my legs trembling violently. I had to prop myself up against the wall just to keep from collapsing. On the floor, the stark physical evidence of our marathon was entirely obvious, but Ayala only stared at it with a proud, victorious grin.
She rolled onto her side, propping her head up on her hand. "Don't look so worried. Since it's my first time and you are only at the Third Circle, there is a ninety percent chance I am already carrying our little monster or devil. If it takes, they will be out in six months, tops."
I nodded vaguely, my brain struggling to process the words. "Six months, right. That's... wait, what?" I whipped my head around so fast something in my neck popped. "Did you say six months? Not ten?"
She waved a dismissive hand, settling back onto the floor to let everything rest. "What part of 'I am not human' is confusing to you, Loki? Amazons give birth quickly, and our children grow fast. Isn't that wonderful? We can easily manage two children a year."
A cold sweat broke out across my back. I suddenly felt profoundly grateful that I had only gotten Sylvia pregnant so far. The mental image of a dozen hyper-aggressive, red-headed toddlers dog-piling me and demanding combat training was enough to shave years off my life.
"Ayala... I need to go home before my legs fall off," I managed, adjusting my damp clothes with shaking hands. "I'll see you after the day off. And despite the sheer terror in my eyes... I do love you. Okay?"
She closed her eyes, a beautiful, entirely content smile on her face. But her parting words nearly sent me face-first into the doorframe.
"Don't come for morning training. Come after lunch. The fluid leakage makes movement difficult, and we will just end up missing lunch in the shower anyway. Bye, my Loki."
I limped out of the changing room, blinking back a stray tear of sheer physical exhaustion.
In the gym, Yin Meng was fluidly executing her sword forms. The moment I dragged myself into view, her movements stopped.
I knew I was in a terrible state because Yin—who normally possessed the emotional range of a brick wall—was actively sporting a massive, amused smirk.
"Master," she said, sheathing her blade with a crisp click. "Is your... 'breeding' concluded? Are we ready to return home?"
I tried to straighten my spine to save some dignity, but a series of loud, deeply unhealthy pops echoed through the gym. I merely nodded, defeated.
Out by the stables, Sleipnir was throwing a silent tantrum.
Thorin had turned up earlier, looking entirely bewildered, and had taken his mare, Brown Sugar, away. That left Sleipnir completely alone, with no sign of his master or the maid. Considering the looming threat of the snake demon, Shehuang, Sleipnir had fully resolved to deliver a massive mule-kick to Loki’s ribs the moment he showed his face. How dare he abandon his majestic steed in a place like this?
"Ouch... steady, Yin," a weak voice whined from the path. "I need a hot bath and a full-body massage. Ayala is going to kill me..."
Sleipnir spun around, his hind leg coiled and ready to launch—and then he froze.
Loki was a disaster. There were dark purple hickeys plastered across his cheeks, running down his neck, covering his exposed collarbones, and there was even one square in the middle of his forehead. He was limping so severely that Yin Meng practically had to carry him by the armpit. His skin looked entirely drained, resembling a human-shaped raisin.
The urge to kick evaporated, replaced by a deep, profound sense of stallion superiority. Sleipnir lowered his hoof, letting out a soft, mocking snort. Why kick a man who had clearly already been destroyed by life?
As I painfully hauled myself toward the saddle, I noticed the horse looked remarkably smug.
"Sleipnir, you look thrilled," I muttered, gripping the pommel with numb fingers. "Did you find a girlfriend or something while I was dying?"
He didn't even snap at me. Instead, he intentionally dug his hooves into the dirt with heavy, jarring steps the entire way back to the estate, sending a jolt of pain straight up my battered spine with every stride.
Yeah. I was definitely skipping Vanguard class tomorrow.
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