The aftermath of the deluge left Nerith feeling hollowed out and utterly violated. As the sensation of the semen and bile began to settle in her throat, the reality of what had just occurred crashed down on her.
The experience wasn't the graceful, spiritual connection the druids spoke of, but this was a conquest. She had been used, her body forced into a rhythm she hadn't chosen, her dignity swallowed along with Rex's seed.
A sob, sharp and jagged, tore from her chest. Then another.
The tears came hot and fast, blurring her vision as she collapsed inward, her forehead nearly touching the dirt. She wasn't just crying from the physical ache in her jaw or the sting in her throat, but she was crying because she felt broken, a vessel that had been forcibly filled and then discarded.
"It... it was too much..." she choked out, her voice trembling with a genuine, soul-deep misery. "He didn't... he didn't even ask... it was like being swallowed by a beast..."
