The Dragon's Bride (A Deal With a Demon 1)
She presses my cock harder to her clit, shivering and shaking around me. She can’t speak with my tongue in her mouth, but she doesn’t have to. I can feel the resistance in her. I don’t know if it’s play or not. I’m not certain I care. I shove deep enough to make her squeak. I have to break the kiss to keep speaking. “If you touch another, I’ll rip their throats out, and then I’ll fuck you in the pool of their blood. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she sobs.
This time, when she cums, I manage to hold out, to slow down enough to not follow her to the very end. I don’t let up, though. The tide of rage is receding, will be gone with the next orgasm, but part of me wants to cling to it a little longer. Right now, she’s not drawing lines in the sand between us. She’s limp and pliable and oh so wet with the combination of us.
My orgasm is coming on too intensely to deny. I pull out of her at the last moment and come across her ass in great spurts. Almost… I shove my second cock into her, and only then do I start fucking her ass with my tail, working my seed into her there as well.
My second orgasm bottoms out inside her and takes the last of my strength. I slump to the side and haul her with me to sprawl across my chest. We’re both sticky with bodily fluids, which I find strangely soothing.
Mine.
I don’t realize I’ve spoken aloud until she says, “Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear.” I tense, expecting a well-deserved snarl or two. Now that the mating frenzy is easing, it’s clear I went too far. Again.
But Briar nuzzles my chest and wiggles until I wrap my arms around her. She lets out a soft sigh. “I’m going to need more of that balm.”
“I’m sorry.”
She lifts her head. She looks a mess. Her red hair is tangled, and there are tear tracks on her face. But the smile she gives me is sweet and a little sinful. “Don’t be sorry, Sol.” She reaches up and cups my jaw with her hand. “I just came so many times, I lost count. There is absolutely nothing to apologize for.”
It feels good to have her in my arms like this. Right. I had every intention of utilizing every resource available to bring her around, but this strange feeling in my chest is happening too quickly, too strongly. I’m free falling, which I want to enjoy, but I can’t quite relax enough to do so.
Most of my people lost the ability to fly centuries ago.
I can’t shake the suspicion that I’m setting myself for a brutal landing that will leave me bloody and broken when this is all over.
Chapter 19
Briar
We don’t make it to the library for two more days. I can’t say I’m complaining. Our time is spent alternating between outstanding, filthy sex and softer moments where he takes care of me. Sol keeps watching me as if he expects me to crumple, but the second things start to heat up, his control snaps, and he’s wringing every bit of pleasure from my body possible.
Even so, I can’t shake the frisson of glee when I wake up and find him already dressed. He looks down at me, his eyes going hot, but he gives himself a sharp shake. “I promised you the library, Briar. Get dressed and we’ll go down.”
He got a bit creative with the healing balm last night, so I’m only vaguely achy as I climb to my feet and duck into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Sol makes a move like he’s going to carry me but aborts it halfway through.
As much as I like being carried by him—and I do—it is rather nice to walk through the halls side by side. Sol matches his longer stride to mine, and the silence is perfectly comfortable. As we descend the stairs, I realize I’ve stopped watching him closely, waiting for some indication he’s hiding a true monster inside.
I won’t change my mind about having a child only to leave them behind, but I can’t deny that Sol seems to be a genuinely good person. He’s kind and caring and completely willing to play bedroom games with me without any judgment or shame. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.
Sol goes still, his crest rising the slightest bit as he sees who waits for us at the bottom of the stairs. “Aldis.”
She’s wearing what I’ve come to realize is customary dragon clothing. Her pants are a deep blue that contrasts her scales beautifully, and they swish about her legs and tail almost like a skirt. They’re much fancier than the plain—if luxurious—ones Sol seems to prefer. Her vest is a matching blue and, unlike how Sol wears his, she’s buttoned it up to cover her breasts. She looks lovely.