Her Dragon Captor (Her Dragon King Duet 1)

But of course, I can’t think. About anything but the small piece of engorged flesh now pulsing like the deepest hip-hop beat between my legs. My body has become one big nerve-ending. Begging to be touched. To be invaded. To be mated. Even by a dragon.

I fist my hands in the covers to keep myself from going to him. But I can no longer control my body. My back arches and my hips jack off the bed, circling in the air with the need to be mated. And my eyes tear with the effort to keep myself from bounding off the mattress.

“Why do you torture yourself?” Damianos asks, with what sounds like genuine curiosity. “This is what you she-wolves were designed for, you know. To breed above all else. And the king of your maker requires your services. You should rush to attend to me, instead of clinging to your silly pride.”

Silly, he calls it.

This fucking bitch.

“Yes, you’re right, I should rush to fulfill my one dream in life. Fucking a fifteen-thousand-year-old virgin,” I say. The sheer meanness of my answer salves my wounded pride. “Fensa said she had to teach Xenon everything from the ground up. And I get the feeling you’re one of those entitled bitches who hasn’t even watched a single how to please a woman video. I bet that’s the real reason you want me to come to you. You wouldn’t even know what to do with a female if you had her, you old-ass incel.”

There comes a long moment of silence. Dangerous and burning.

Then: “Thank you for saying that, Ola. I will enjoy your utter humiliation even more now. It is 11:15. I predict you will give up within the half-hour.”

Bad…stupid…prediction…. I’m going to hold on. I’m going to hold on as long as it takes.

My wolf is fighting me. My body is fighting me. But I’m going to hold on.

And that’s exactly what I do. I grit my teeth and ignore the waves of lust crashing over my body. The world becomes the fight, and hours pass as I battle my wolf and all the pheromones raging through my body. But eventually, the heat lets up, and I look at the clock, victorious and drenched in sweat. “See, I told you I would hold...”

The “out” fades away when I see the time.

11:28.

And not 11:28 the next morning. Thirteen minutes. Only thirteen minutes have passed since I decided to die rather than give in.

And that’s when I suddenly realize something that I didn’t in that sophomore year health class.

Could…

The teachers and the textbooks said a she-wolf could die if she wasn’t mated.

But in all the examples of bad mateships I’ve studied, I’ve never seen a history or even a fiction about a she-wolf dying from not mating when she was in heat. And that’s because it’s never happened.

This is what you she-wolves were designed for, you know, to be bred above all else.

Above all else.

That could had only been theory, I realize now. At a biological level, I can’t die by not mating with Damianos, just like I couldn’t die by holding my breath. Because on a biological level I won’t be able to keep myself from mating with Damianos.

But maybe…once won’t be enough to get me pregnant. If I can fuck him just long enough to regain my composure.

The strain to control myself gives away and the tears in my eyes become real as I give in and climb out of the bed. Not a crying-ass bitch, so I don’t let them fall. But God I hate myself, hate my design as I move toward him.

“Yes, Ola, come to me.” His dark voice says, pulling at me. Like a puppeteer’s string.

My legs are so weak now, they give out.

If I’m expecting Damianos to feel sorry for me, forget that. His dark laugh provides the soundtrack as I crawl on my hands and knees over to his chair.

When I reach him, he holds up a hand and rises from his seat.

He’s so much larger than me. Especially from my position on the ground. It’s like watching a mountain grow even taller. Shame and humiliation wash over me as I watch him remove his shirt. His face is a good con job, thanks to his capped tongue and the teeth that, unlike Xenon’s have apparently been shaven down from razor points. But his lower torso doesn’t look like anything approaching a human’s. Technically he has abs, but they’re covered in some type of pale white scales.

That’s a lot to process, but my mind completely stops when he pushes down his pants.

Okay, what am I seeing?

What. Am. I. Seeing?

I thought I was mistaken when I grabbed him inside his Greek villain fortress, but I wasn’t.

He’s packing two cocks. One of which is visibly moving. The first dick is heavy and thick. It’s not scaled, but it has the same pale white coloring as his belly and it’s so perfectly smooth it put me in mind of marble. Throbbing marble. But if the first dick is pulsing, the second one is full-on squirming. Long but thinner than the first one, it seems to be straining to find something.