“A drakki’s female works are much different from yours. She has several entrances into her womb, and a few of them are quite hard to find,” he answers.
Okay, well that explanation just put some interesting images into my head. And it doesn’t settle my mind at all.
“You have no reason to fear it, Reverence. I will keep it lodged into the bottom of your female works as I did the last time we mated.”
The last night of my heat flashes into my memory. The shame, the degradation, but also the amazing orgasm when I came on his dick.
“Why has your flame turned to embarrassment, Reverence?” The question appears inside my head, overlapping the memory.
And maybe that’s why I find myself telling him the truth. “I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed because I actually enjoyed sex with you. Having both of the dicks at the top and bottom of my pussy. Fucking you in general. My heat’s totally done, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
He considers my words for a long hot moment, both dicks pulsing hard.
Then he says, “You have made this confession, so I will make one as well. I am ashamed too, Reverence. What you said before about me being a 15,000-year-old virgin. Well, I am older than that. But the other label is true. I was a virgin the same as you when your heat started. When I sat in that chair and made you come to me it was more about pride than humiliation. Male wolves, including the basketball player I bid to date you, most often have sex before their first heat session. But drakkon do not have such instincts until their male works drop for a female they are sexually compatible with. You are the only female who has ever made my reproductive organs respond in such a manner. I was…confused about that, but mostly I did not want to hurt you with my ignorance.”
My eyes are two saucers by the time he’s done.
“I have shocked you into speechlessness.” He looks away from me, his giant body going stiff, and I can feel his shame radiating over our mate bond. “If you no longer wish to mate with me outside of your heat, I understand.”
I know he’s a dragon. And an alien on top of that. But there’s something so human about him in this moment. I reach out and press a hand into his bearded cheek to get him to face me. “Hey, you look at me now.”
His glowing gaze lifts back up to mine.
“Since we’re both coming in awkward to this sex stuff, how about we figure it out together. Okay?”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “You honor me with your offer,” he answers. “Okay.”
“Alright then.” I get on my hands and knees and smile over my shoulder at him. “Let’s try this again. From the top.”
I’m trying to be funny, yet it feels like the most serious thing I’ve ever said.
I don’t know what I’m doing. Or why I’m doing it. Or how it’s all going to turn out.
But as he tentatively lines up behind me, a new truth settles over my heart.
Something changed between us tonight. This new leaf of Damianos still feels too good to be true, but starting right now, I’m going to stop questioning it.
No more putting all my energy into planning another getaway. No more running. I’m here. And I’m going to stay here until something takes away this new feeling forming in my chest.
I don’t know how. And I couldn’t say why if anybody asked me to explain it.
But right here, right now?
I’m totally his.
“Let’s do this,” I tell him out loud.
“Yes, let’s.”
We’re both good and rarin’ to go, but unfortunately, I find out in the next moment that enthusiasm isn’t all you need to pull off good, or even halfway decent sex.
I suddenly realize how extremely large he is when he starts to push in. And without my heat obliterating all considerations for emotional and physical comfort, my body seizes up like “Nerp! Not happening!”
He barely gets the tip in before I’m crying out, “Ouch…stop…stop. Please stop!”
He immediately stops behind me.
“Reverence, forgive me. I can see by the way your flame burns with discomfort that I am too large to fit inside of you. Without your mating heat, your female works will no longer grant me entry.”
He pulls the tip out of me, and can you believe my wolf has the nerve to cry out? I wouldn’t call the girl a pain slut, but she definitely doesn’t care how much it hurts, as long as she’s being claimed.
I flip over, and it feels like I’m addressing both him and her, when I say, “Yeah, we’ve got some size issues, but I’m pretty sure, this is what foreplay was invented for.”
“Foreplay,” he repeats, tilting his head.