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Moss’ talons slid over her hips, cupping her ass again before digging in and up, piercing through the leather but only pressing firmly against the skin beneath. Tira struggled in anger, protesting the destruction of her clothes, but Moss only growled softly, luminescent blue eyes squinting as if daring her to continue.
“You can wish them whole when I’m done with you.” His cock bobbed menacingly in a shaft of reflected moonlight between them at the wordwish, and Tira was starting to suspect it was more than a magical duty to Moss, that fulfillment. Talons cleaved the restraint of belt and leather away, coils shifting to brusquely peel her out of pants and boots like so much corn at the harvest. A quick talon swipe down the bodice laces at her chest left her gasping despite the sudden freedom to breathe more deeply, only the airy kiss of her sweat-damp shift covering her now. She tugged self-consciously on the bottom hem, a sudden bolt of shyness racing through her and colliding with the adrenaline already there.
Moss gathered her against his chest, the impossibly-thick girth of his cock shoving against the bottom of her shift, pressing against her entrance through the thin cloth as he moved. Her thighs widened automatically, body bending towards the delicious friction before she blushed again, squirming to put a little space between them. She’d never been this eager with a lover before, but something about Moss made her a little wanton - his strength, his care for her while she was helpless, or perhaps even his unusual nature.
Fear pricked at her again as something new brushed her skin - the slightly-rough surface of rope against her arm. She raised a hand to push a carefully-placed strand off her shoulder and Moss huffed with warning as he replaced it. “You can’t seem to conquer your hesitation, and that could be harmful when we…progress. I promised not to hurt you, and I am a creature of my word. Hold still.”
She let out a squeak of alarm as the rope, practically a serpent itself, was threaded under and through her thighs, cinched tight off her skin with masterful knotsveryclose to someveryintimate places. “Moss, I can remain still, please - this isn’t necessary, I’ll stop-”
Moss presseda gentle finger to her lips, stopping the tumble of words. Satisfied she’d fallen silent, he guided her under the well shaft, sending her stumbling into the knee-deep water, clinging to his hand to keep her footing. After ensuring she could stand on her own, he leaned back, grasping at something, and Tira let out a thready cry as she suddenly found herself hoisted, bare feet kicking at air.
The ropes Moss had threaded and knotted around her thighs held tight to her hips, supporting her as if she was sitting on the swing in the town square’s oak. Only here, there was no plank of wood beneath her ass, just slings of rope around each thigh that held them apart as her hands grasped the ropes trailing upwards for balance. The rhythmic plunks of water drops, tickling their way off her shins and heels to tumble into the water below, broke the silence. “Moss! What are you-”
The old stone blocks around her lit up with a soft, unearthly blue as Moss ducked under the well mouth to join her, the glow emanating from his tail and eyes. Her stomach, now level with his eyes, quivered as he stepped close again, turning his head and pressing his lips to one of her bound thighs in a lover’s caress. He punctuated his murmur with a teasing flick of his tongue. “I told you. I’m keeping you safe.”
Her damp toes curled in alarm as his head tilted, dangerously close to what the edge of her shift didn’t even really cover anymore, rucked up as it was by the ropes. What little she wore in the way of undergarments was now in a damp heap somewhere on the floor of the well, shredded with the rest of her clothes. She certainly didn’t feelsafe, particularly when Moss splayed his warm, wide palms on her suspended thighs, parting them further and plucking her shift up with taloned thumbs.
In the moment, Tira felt a feverish spark of gratitude for her earlier wish; if there’d been anyone remotely near the clearing, they would have been summoned by the loud, startled noise she made when Moss’ mouth dove eagerly between her legs. Her hands immediately flew to his head to steady herself, settling his horns in the curve of her thumbs, fingertips burying in his silky hair. Relinquishing the steadying ropes caused her hips to tilt upwards, rocking her against his seeking tongue with the movement. The soft scrape of the coin in her palm against his horn gave her some measure of courage in this strange, pleasurable adventure.
None of Tira’s handful of prior, ultimately forgettable interludes had includedthisact, and more was the pity for that, because it wasglorious. Tira’s heart beat wildly, particularly when the silky-scaled edges of Moss’ cheek brushed her inner thigh, reminding her that this pleasure was doled out on the tongue - and talons - of something inhuman. Even with that unsubtle reminder pressed against her skin, Moss’ skilled tongue proceeded to obliterate protests, worries, and a very long dry spell with every blissful twist.
Tira rocked wantonly in the ropes, and Moss slid his hands to her ass in response, gripping it and keeping her pressed tight to his tireless mouth. If her earlier noise had been enough to startle the owls and night-creatures in the clearing above, the cry of pleasure at her unexpected climax would have sent them to the skies. Without thinking, her hands gripped Moss’ horns like the front of a saddle, riding her hips against his obliging tongue as pleasure swelled and crested at her core.
Her strange new lover might have been monstrous in some ways, but he was certainly no fool. He buried his mouth against her as hard as he could, exactly when she needed him to, his talons surely leaving marks for how tightly they gripped her below. She didn’t mind, Tira thought deliriously - let the men of the tavern see how well a beast could do what they could not.
It waswith great reluctance that Moss eventually drew back, leaving a tender kiss on the silk-soft skin of Tira’s thigh. Tira’s body had begun to twitch and curve away from his tongue, delicious little bird-like cries spilling from her lips with every touch. He still had work to do, and he was determined to bring her more pleasure, not inattentive discomfort. He’d need her willing indulgence, at any rate, if he was going to see this through and keep his hands.
He pulled his lower lip softly between his fangs, tasting her musk as he dropped a hand to his shaft for a rough stroke. He didn’t need it, having her like this was more than enough to have him completely ready, but he needed his little human to see what she was in for. That predator’s fantasy roared back to life, the desire to see her eyes widen and breath quicken.
He was instantly rewarded with both.
Delaying too long would give Tira’s worries about carnal architecture time to surface through the pleasure he’d just wrung from her. At least, that’s what Moss told himself as he stepped forward and aligned himself at the sweet center he’d just devoured to completion. In reality, he didn’t want to wait a second longer to sink into her, and if he was being honest, it had nothing to do with his bracers.
Her breathless noise of surprise - but not refusal - at the touch of his cockhead to her cunt dissolved the last of his already-thin restraint. With one hand, he reached for the ropes on her right hip, curving the other hand into her hair while carefully avoiding her wound. She felt so small like this, so helpless, and the thought made his cock kick as he surged forward, a little mindless now.
Trapped between his grasping hands and firm talons against her skin, Tira whimpered softly in apprehension, but parted her thighs as best as she could in the ropes.
“That’s it….good girl…” Moss purred the approval through tightened fangs, needing to work his girth into her by slow, patient inches. When her hands and nails scrabbled at his shoulders, just like he’d hoped, he got a little rougher despite himself, determined to hilt himself in his pliant human now.
“Moss!” Tira’s voice trembled between caution and acceptance, her arms looping around his neck as she sought support from the very lover currently ruining her. Sharp intakes of her breath at his ear accompanied every nudge of his hips until finally -finally -he bottomed out in her tight, glorious warmth.
“Shh, there. There, Tira. You’ve done it. You’ve taken me so well, little sovereign. Doesn’t that feel good?” Moss cooed reassuringly as moved his hips, tightening his hold on Tira’s hip-ropes to start a rhythm between them. Tira buried her face against his neck in response, nodding tightly and holding on, letting Moss set the pace as she adjusted to him. She couldn’t do much else, trussed as she was, and Moss’ dragon preened that his ropes had worked so well.
He really tried to be gentle, but as her body softened against him and the glide became easier, he began to chase his own pleasure when his concentration slipped. Tira leaned back, holding onto his shoulders for balance more than comfort now, tentatively rolling her own hips to match his. Her features still tightened on some of his faster thrusts, but still she always met him in the center, both of them crashing and grinding into the other now with increasingly-wild abandon.
Moss relinquished his careful hold on her head to grab the ropes at her other hip, holding her body tight to him as he began short, hard thrusts up into her cunt. He knew he’d come in moments, and was seized by a need to bring her with him over that exquisite edge. Tira’s eyes were glassy with pleasure as she eagerly took what he offered, tilting her hips to chase the friction they shared.
Finally, the muscles of his tail burning from the effort of thoroughly fucking his beautiful charge, Moss growled a soft warning that was lost in the joyful cry of Tira’s second climax. He dropped his head to her shoulder with a low groan as he buried himself in her, filling her to overflowing with jets of hot, glowing spend as she clutched around him.
The act certainly hadn’t taken as long as he’d liked, but the feel of her - the way she moved, sounded, and smelled - it had undone him down to his scales. Even now, he should withdraw, help her clean the mess he’d made between her thighs, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but hold her panting, sweating form against his chest. They spent long, quiet moments holding onto one another in the faint luminescence, his talons stroking gently through her hair as he breathed against her uninjured temple. Her own breathing slowed gradually as she drowsed, making a small, contented noise under his neck, still sheathed around him.
Tilting back to rest her weight on his chest, Moss loosened an anchor-knot in the ropes above them, releasing her into his arms and withdrawing his cock into his body in the same movement. Gently tugging the ropes away from her legs, he tamped down the fierce satisfaction of the glowing smear reflected in the water below - his seed on the inside of her thighs. But he’d had his moment of brutality in the throes of their passion, now he’d play the gentleman again. Soon, Tira would undoubtedly flee, debt repaid, leaving him once more to his solitude.
Why did the idea that solitude feel so empty, now?
He had no sooner laid her in the heart of his nest, cleansing her legs and core with a soft cloth, when she stirred. Sleepily propping herself up on her hands, she yawned and rubbed an eye. “The- um - bracelets. Mm. Good now?”
It took Moss a moment to understand what she was asking, but he nodded as he turned his wrist experimentally. “Yes. Back to normal, and thank you.” Moss smiled softly as he pulled his heaviest blanket over her to keep her warm. It wasn’t much, as he didn’t need them the way humans did, but it was better than nothing in the damp chill of his well.
