Page 22 of The Witch & the Dragon

“You’re not imposing anything on me. Don’t worry.” He approached her slowly, gently placing a hand on the small of her back to usher her inside the room. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, apparently oblivious to the electric jolt that appeared to transfer from his resting hand to her lower spine.

She held her breath, her heart thumping ever faster as she looked around the room. “It’ll do nicely. But… I admit. I was hoping for…” She turned to him slowly, her movements careful and deliberate. She reached out with one hand to cup his cheek, feeling the bristle of his beard. She kept her gaze locked on his, wondering if he might hear her skittering heartbeat since she had no control over it. His eyes searched hers in return as if searching for an answer and perhaps getting it.

Their lips met again with fervor and passion. Her arms pressed him tightly to her, and he did the same, and it was as if flames burned wherever their bodies made contact.

This felt right, this felt natural, and Chloe did her best to push aside the little doubts, the ones that wondered if this was serious and if he liked her as much as she hoped or if it was only her who indulged in such emotions.

He’d never given her any real reason to doubt, though – all the doubt was conjured from the chaos of her thoughts.

“Let me know if things go too far or if this gets uncomfortable,” he whispered against her lips, and somehow, the care in those words turned her on more than anything else. She clung to him, losing herself in the kiss, eyelashes brushing against his, breaths mingling together. One kiss became many, and they began light, teasing movements toward his bedroom. Crossing the threshold sent a thrill rippling through her, a sense of expectation for the room and whatever might occur in it.

He gently lowered her onto the bed, and she pulled him down with her. They took a moment to adjust into comfortable positions, still engaging in heavy kissing and caressing. All with clothes on, though the longer this went on, the more she wanted to start tugging things off. His leg hooked between hers and pressed in a way that made her gasp and writhe, both trying to escape the sensitivity yet not really wanting to move far enough to escape.

Now, the words sweet torment made more sense to her when, before, they’d just slid by. His lips pressed against her neck as he ground against her, eliciting another surge of pleasure, causing her to leg lock him to keep the close contact. She arched and stretched her neck, allowing him easier access, and the warm breath and pliable lips sent her crazy from the stimulation and had her gasping for more.

The torment heightened, and she began to pluck at his clothes, even as he plucked at hers.

“Are you sure this is okay,” he murmured against her skin, even as his hands deftly lifted her top off.

“You ask me that again, I might have to smack you,” she replied, busy with unbuttoning his top. She wanted just to rip it open, but it seemed a shame to ruin such a nice shirt, so she opted for the slower, politer route. That polite patience was wearing thin, however, and the desire to feel Tiran’s skin against hers grew without limit, and her heart felt as if it was pumping fire through her veins.

The electrical sensation had her pressing against him, running her palms over his skin, over his shoulder and muscles, and down to his firm rear, now exposed. She felt his hardness pressed against her stomach, and a seething desire to adjust, to have that not resting there but going between her legs, began to override any sense of reason.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped, halting the action as she began to fumble with his hardness. “Do we, uh, want to stop at this point, or…”

“I want to go all the way,” she whispered, and he gently entwined his fingers with hers, lifting them away.

“I admit I didn’t expect things to progress quite this far.” He kissed her neck, her cheek, and her lips before withdrawing from the contact and the bed entirely. “One moment.”

He vanished in an almost comical way, and she lay there in the bed, still aroused, slightly puzzled, and sat up on her elbows, listening intently. It sounded like he bumped into something or several somethings, and there was also a curse before he returned with a pack of condoms.

“Ah,” she said. Right. Condoms. That was probably smart.

He placed them on the side of the bed and went for close contact again, skin to skin, their lips roving over each other, chasing the wonderful, sometimes alien sensations that rippled through them both. The brief pause had lowered some of her excitement, but this helped to get it right back up again, and she embraced him with vigor and kissed his forehead as he worked on putting on one of the condoms from the box.

When he had it on, his hands took a teasing motion, running along her thighs, between her legs, stumbling over the wetness there, which caused him to groan. Her excitement was at a fever pitch, and she struggled to find as much pleasure as possible from him, resulting, finally, in the contact she craved. He slid inside without much resistance, and it didn’t take long for her to become completely undone, lost in the rhythm of their body movements, lost in the chase for each other’s peak. It wasn’t always graceful, but the enthusiasm and passion overrode everything else.

Tiran got the bright idea at one point to brush her bundle of nerves with each of his hip thrusts, and the journey to the peak didn’t take so long from then. She’d only experienced this a handful of times, and those were solo adventures when attempting to learn more about her body. This time, the boiling warmth spread through, so brief yet so astounding in its strength, numbing her muscles in the process. She struggled to hold onto Tiran as he went for his own peak, and stroked his face, kissed his neck and chest when he did.

They cuddled briefly before the both of them, without words, ventured into the bathroom and shared a shower. This time, a more sensual experience followed, where they washed each other’s skin with hands and shower gel, embraced under the hissing water, taking the time and dedication to look after one another and clean up. They stole a few more kisses, but the experience itself elevated because of her already sensitive body and lingering rush of endorphins.

They wrapped up the evening with some hot chocolate, and snuggling on the sofa.

“We should have more dates like this,” Tiran said, cradling his mug with one hand and her shoulder with the other. “Preferably far away from the academy. Some people there have very sharp hearing.”

“Oh crap,” Chloe said, hand over mouth in realization. “Right. All the werewolves and everything. I guess they can hear what’s happening through the walls, right?”

“Dragons, too,” he said. “Our hearing is pretty decent as well. Big cat shifters, even better – their hearing is insane. But I guess if you don’t mind listening to hanky panky, it’s fine.”

“Don’t say hanky panky,” Chloe groaned. “That sounds so bad!”

He leaned closer to her ear. “Hanky panky.”

“Don’t make me have to explain to a police officer why I murdered my date…”

He laughed but stopped, and they relaxed in each other’s company until retiring to the same bed together, this time for sleep.

Sleep didn’t exactly come with pleasant dreams, however. Of course, she hoped to reflect on the activities shared with Tiran over and over, but at some point, her mindscape shifted to something else entirely.

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