My writhing secondary cock starts spurting uncontrollably when she takes the primary in her hand. The substance isn’t seed, I vaguely recall from one of the lectures my father gave me about what to do when it came time to breed my fated mate. Rather it is a sort of lubricant that allows for us to breed our drakki with more ease.
Apparently, Ola is aware of its function too. “Don’t need it upfront,” she says, regarding my spurting secondary cock with a knowing smile. “But your second guy’s free to take my ass.”
Such crude words. Too crude. Yet my secondary cock plunges into her second hole without hesitation.
I am in. Both my cocks are buried deep within my mate. I have never in all my millennia felt a pleasure so exquisite. My flame roars, blazing up every nerve ending in my body.
And then she places her hands upon my chest and begins moving.
My mind blanks with the motion. Then, I instantly lose all sanity. There is only the crazed pleasure of this and the madness of being inside her but unable to touch her.
“Let me out. Let me out of these shackles!” Unable to control myself I rattle my chains against the iron bars and attempt to compel her with a desperate craze.
“I can’t…I can’t…” she chants. Tears brim in her eyes, as she regards me with a helpless look. I’m not certain if she speaks to me or herself.
In the end, it matters not. Her chant cuts off with a sharp cry when she arrives at her pleasure. The sudden loss of her riding motion should mean the end of my own pleasure, shackled as I am.
But the clamp of her around both of my cocks…the sight of her with her head thrown back, bountiful breasts heaving as the pleasure wracks her body…it’s too much.
I explode into her, both cocks spilling copious amounts of seed without care or thought of procreation.
And somehow that is not the best part.
The best part comes when she lowers herself down, her lips once more finding mine.
I accept the kiss greedily at first, my entire body straining against my chains with the desire to touch her.
But then I remember myself. Remember who she is. Who I am.
Remember the plan.
I deaden my half of our mate bond, and this time, it is she who lets out a surprised groan when I cut off the kiss.
“Let me out of these chains, Ola.”
She stills, the lazy contentment fading from her eyes. “I should go. Can you do that retracting thing with your dicks?”
Despite not immediately knowing what that “retracting thing” is, I find in the next moment that I am able to pull my male works back into my scaling with a mere thought. The fact that she knows my body better than I do doesn’t sit well with me. Not at all.
Nor does the sight of her scrambling off my body and pulling back on her nightgown and robe. She turns to leave again. While I can only lie here helpless.
“I will free myself from these chains,” I warn her.
She pauses, shoulders tightening, but doesn’t turn around.
“And when I do,” I continue with a lazy tone, “I will no longer be afraid of hurting you.”
As expected, she turns around, eyes blazing.
But instead of yelling, she simply runs her eyes down my fully exposed body. “I’m looking forward to making you say please again tomorrow,” she tells me.
I don’t answer. Am careful to keep my half of the mate bond as numb as I wish I could be when it comes to her.
But I can tell by the way she smirks that I’m not doing a good enough job of masking my impotent rage. I have failed. Again. Because of her.
I will remember that, I tell myself as she turns and leaves.
Chapter Seven
OLA
“You will not best me tonight,” he says when I walk in the next evening with my two pots. One for soup and one for bathing.
I let my eyes trail down his body, to where his second dick is visibly squirming underneath his scales.
“Good to see you too, Triple D,” I answer with a grin. And unlike him, I don’t bother to suppress my side of our mate bond.
I let my anticipation flow over it. I’ve been looking forward to breaking him all day, and I want him to know it.
He’s looking way better I notice during my scan. Like, weirdly better. He began gaining weight even before he woke up after a week of sleep. And I swear he’s put on at least ten more pounds since I saw him last.
“Do you plan to feed me, or will you stand there ogling me all night?” he asks.
My heart squeezes. That high-handed question is so the opposite of anything Other Damianos would have said to me. Sometimes it feels like the dragon I fell in love with didn’t just disappear.