Page 58 of Drenched

“Don’t stop,” I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. My hips began to move instinctively, grinding against his mouth as his tongue worked me with unforgiving precision. The pleasure was blinding, a tidal wave that swept me under and left me breathless.

When I finally shattered, the release was earth-shattering. My cries echoed through the cavern, mingling with the low hums vibrating from his chest. He didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to stroke me through the aftershocks, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until I was trembling above him.

But I wasn’t done.

Sliding lower, I positioned myself above his cock, feeling the ridges press against me as I adjusted. His hands moved to my hips, his claws grazing my skin as he guided me down onto him. The stretch was exquisite, slow, deliberate, as I took him inch by inch. Each ridge added a new sensation, the pressure building in a way that left me gasping.

His growl rumbled through the cavern as I began to move, setting a steady rhythm that sent waves of pleasure crashing through both of us. His tail coiled around my legs, anchoring me in place as his claws gripped my hips, guiding me as I rode him. The ridges of his cock caught against me with every movement, amplifying the intensity until it bordered on unbearable.

His black eyes burned into mine as though I were the only thing holding him together. “Pearl,” he rasped, his voice raw and desperate. “You’re…”

“Mine,” I finished for him, leaning down to press my lips to his. The kiss was fierce, consuming, as our bodies moved together, each thrust pushing us closer to the edge.

When his release came, it was overwhelming. His body trembled beneath me, his claws gripping my hips tightly as a low, guttural roar escaped his lips. The heat of him filled me, a sharp contrast to the coolness of his scales. I rode out the waves of his climax, feeling the tension in his body unravel as his tailloosened its hold on my legs. For a moment, he seemed utterly still, his breaths ragged and shallow.

He looked up at me, his black eyes softened by something I couldn’t name. Reverence, perhaps. Or trust. It was almost too much to bear, the way he gazed at me as if I were the center of his universe.

“You’re…” His voice cracked, low and unsteady. “You’re everything, Pearl.”

I smiled faintly, leaning forward as though to kiss him. My hands slid over his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath my palms. He was vulnerable now, utterly undone, and he didn’t see it coming.

My fingers found the hilt of the dagger hidden behind the rock beside him, the one he’d gifted me in what he thought was an act of devotion. The metal was cold against my skin, its weight grounding me as I gripped it tightly.

His eyes fluttered shut, his head tilting back as he savored the moment, lost in the afterglow. That was when I struck.

The dagger sank deep.

His body went rigid beneath me, silver bioluminescence spilling from the wound like liquid moonlight. His chest heaved, a strangled sound caught in his throat. For a moment, his black eyes went blank, the void within them stilling as if time itself had stopped.

Blue blood oozed from the gash, coating my hands. It should have felt like victory. But instead, a chill dread crawled up my spine.

Then his eyes snapped open.

The darkness within them surged, a swirling blackness that drank in the faint light. His lips curled back, exposing rows of jagged teeth that glistened like wet glass. The glow in his wound dimmed, the blood pulling back as though retreating into his body.

A low, venomous laugh bubbled up from his throat.

“You thought you could kill me?”

His claws shot up, seizing my wrists with a crushing grip. My breath caught as his tail coiled around my legs, pinning me down, the cold scales biting into my skin. He sat up slowly, the dagger still buried in his chest, the handle slick with his blood. His gaze burned into mine, a void brimming with raw, unrelenting rage.

“You truly thought a weapon, such as the very dagger I gifted you, could end me?” His voice dripped with contempt, each word a drop of poison. “How naïve.”

I struggled, panic clawing at my throat, but his hold was unrelenting. The shadows in the cavern seemed to stretch toward him, pulled by an invisible force. The water around us vibrated, trembling with a low hum that resonated in my bones.

“Let me go,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “You’re bleeding, you’re dying.”

His laugh was hollow, a sound that scraped against my mind like a rusted blade.

“Bleeding? Dying?” He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. “You still don’t understand, do you?”

The air grew colder, the water around us darkening as if light itself was fleeing his presence. The glow in his wound pulsed, then dimmed completely. He reached down and wrapped his claws around the hilt of the blade.

I watched, horror freezing my veins, as he pulled it out, inch by inch, the metal slick with his shimmering blood. There was no pain in his eyes, no weakness. Just a cold, consuming fury.

When the dagger slid free, the wound closed instantly, silver scales knitting together as if nothing had happened. He held the dagger up, studying it with disdain before tossing it aside. It clattered to the stone floor, forgotten.

“You think you understand what I am,” he said, his voice a cold whisper that echoed through the cavern. “But you’ve barely glimpsed the truth.”

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