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My own fingers trembled as I finally unhooked the corset and slipped it off then lifted the short hip-length chemise over my head.
Then I stood before him completely nude. Yet again.
Except this time, there were no marching drums or raucous audience, or even the barrier of gold paint and black runes on my skin. Except there were actually. I twisted my inner wrists to face away from him, not yet ready to discuss what that meant. I wanted his full attention, and I seemed to have it.
His breathing was labored as he drank in the sight of me. Slowly, he unbuckled the belt and dagger at his waist.
He didn’t wear full armor today. He hadn’t since we returned to Näkt Mir. He wore simple clothing. Today, he wore a long-sleeved black shirt and pants made of soft leather, darkened to charcoal, a shade darker than his skin.
By the time he’d shed his last bit of clothing, the blue coal had heated the cavern while the sizzle of lightning and rumbling thunder continued to roll and beat violently down on Northgall. Drak slumbered, blocking out the storm. Here, our little world was toasty warm and colored in hues of blue and gray, the light dipping over his beautifully muscled form and his long, thick erection.
When his hand went to his length and he gave it a long, slow stroke, I gulped hard. My mouth was dry, but my cunny was wet. He inhaled deep, his chest puffing out and his eyes closing as he smelled the air. When he opened his gaze on me again, it was the dragon who looked back.
“Get on your knees.”
I paused for only a second before I stepped onto the Meer wolf fur and knelt. He walked a slow circle behind me then lowered to his own knees. But when he touched me, his hands weren’t where I thought they’d be.
He swept my hair over one shoulder, and then his fingers gently trailed the skin where my wings jutted from beneath my shoulder blades. He traced with tender slides of his fingers, easing his body closer to mine. The heat of him was a wall at my back, yet for a few moments all he touched was where my wings sprouted from my body.
“I know you believe these are useless, that they can carry you nowhere. But you are so wrong, Una.” His lips touched the curve of my shoulder. I trembled as he slid his hands to my hips and his mouth up my nape. “These wings carried you to me.” His grip tightened as he whispered against my skin. “Where you belong.” Then his voice darkened. “Lean forward.”
I knew what he wanted and what he planned to do. I’d seen a Pellasian stallion mount a mare before. And gods above, the image of him doing the same to me had warmth pooling quickly between my legs. I fell forward onto my hands.
His palm skated up my spine, between my wings to the base of my neck. “Lower,” he commanded.
I bent my elbows, but he continued to press and guide me until my cheek was against the fur, my breathing quick and unsteady. Then he slid his hands to my hips as he shifted back.
Confused, for I’d expected to feel him pressing at my entrance, I jolted when I felt his warm mouth on my cunny. “Ah!”
He gripped my thighs, sliding his thumbs to open my folds, and groaned as he lapped at me. “Slick and wet for me, Una.” He suckled my clitoris on a groan. “You’re dripping.” Another flick that made me jump and whimper. “Your body doesn’t seem to hate me even if you do.”
I curled my fingers into the fur, reeling too high from pleasure to feel ashamed of what he was doing to me, acknowledging that he was right. I might be furious with him, but I didn’t hate him. Not anymore.
I couldn’t understand the truth of it, so I let my body go, let myself experience the pleasure. He moaned and licked me intimately, his tongue sliding inside me, his lips closing on my clitoris where he sucked me hard.
That wondrous sensation of arousal spiraled higher, dragging incomprehensible noises from my throat. “Goll,” I whimpered as my climax tore through my body, melting me with pleasure.
He growled deep in his throat, that familiar sizzle of his magick stroking over my skin. I tried squirming away, but he held my thighs and drank deep from me.
Then his mouth was trailing up my spine, between my wings where he purred against my skin, his magick sparking a tingly fire along my body.
He planted one clawed hand next to my head, and his face dipped low as he gripped my hip tight, “You were meant for me.” Then pressed his cock inside me on a deep, savage groan.
I breathed through the tight sensation, panting with pleasure. Only the pleasure this time. There was a brief moment of discomfort when he seated himself fully, but it lasted only seconds before there was nothing but ecstasy.
He pumped with long glides in and out of my body. “You aremymizrah,” he breathed into my hair, his forehead pressed to my shoulder.
His words felt as desperate as his body, stroking and stretching me, trying to communicate some indefinable message that he wasn’t able to articulate clearly enough. He grunted in frustration then wrapped his arms around my waist and chest and sat back on his haunches, bringing me upright with him.I cried out at the jolting sensation of sitting fully on his cock, digging my nails into his forearms to hold on.
He reached one arm across my chest to the opposite shoulder, holding my back tightly to his front. He slipped his other hand between our legs and stroked with the pads of two fingers, the ones still filed short, and massaged my sensitive sex where he entered me.
He didn’t move, simply held me pressed tight against him, inside me, his mouth at my neck as he gently spread the slick from my sex through my quim and around his cock.
“I’ll never let you go.” His fingers worked me while he remained buried deep, unmoving. “Do you understand?”
It was a king’s command, a promise. It was no use to tell him yet again that I hadn’t been trying to leave him. He wanted it abundantly clear that I washisand would always be so.
I brushed my palms up his forearms, arousal tightening where he speared inside me. If he was giving commands, I could demand a promise of my own.
