Page 13 of Devoted to the Dragon

She says something about how the heavy cage will remind the body that it is restrained for a reason, even when aroused, but it doesn’t make sense to my cotton-cloud brain. The word focus pops out of her mouth multiple times, and I try to listen, but my dick is pounding.

The room smells like an omega, soft and sweet and inviting.I can’t suck it in fast enough, searching for more of the orange that’s just a hint in the air.

Discontent rolls through the room, and the movements of wolves slinking to the guard at the door to bail draw my eye. But then a streak of crimson light shines on us, pulling my attention back to the dragon, and the room around us fades to the background.

“Let’s begin.” Her grip tightens. She smiles at me, but it’s all teeth. “Fire or ice?”

Her gaze lands on where she holds me by my length. The amount of precum dribbling from the tip should be embarrassing. But how often does a wolf get bossed around by his dick at the hands of a sexy dragon?

“Fire,” I choke out, the sound desperate. I don’t know what the fuck she means, but I’d rather go out in flames.

Her palm around my cock heats with a tingling warmth that sends a straight zip of pleasure to my balls and makes my knot ache to expand. She crowds into my space, her breath warm against my chest as her other hand rakes her nails along my abs.

I grab for her, desperate to get my hands on those serious curves. My hand just barely grazes her hip.

“Hands to yourself.” The dragon laughs, and I want to drown myself in the sound.“Vandera?”

The witch steps into view, blinding in her colorful robe. She mutters something, giving a flick of her wrist. Both arms are yanked above my head, held by an invisible rope digging into my skin. The pressure of the knotted rope only adds kindling to the fire raging in my body.That same invisible force spreads my legs, locking my ankles into place. My dick thinks this is an improvement, jumping in the dragon’s hand.

The witch’s melodic voice weaves through the room, but this time, I can’t hear anything more than my own panting. The beautiful dragon’s hands roam across my skin, little bolts of fire that tickle and tease, warming me from the inside.

I get lost in the sensations, my dick aching for her to return. The haze of rut washes over me, red and hot, as the dragon teases me until I’m only wolf, pounding with the need to sink my teeth into my mate’s neck.

Somewhere in my mind, alarm bells are wailing over the ridiculous thought that this powerful dragon is my mate. But the warning is drowned out by the fire raging in my balls.

The sharp, sweet nip of her teeth on the line of my ear makes my knot pop. “Come for me, little wolf,” she commands.

My body is hers entirely, and an orgasm blasts through me, so sharp and achingly beautiful that the world is a kaleidoscope of colors and light. It goes on and on, but she doesn’t stop tugging my cock. She keeps me there, her hands wrapped snugly around me until my body shakes uncontrollably. Then she picks up her pace, her small, heated hands twisting and squeezing until she forces me to come again. My vision blacks out, and I sag against the invisible rope, floating on some blazing sea of fire so warm and whole that I never want to leave its cocoon.

She murmurs in my ear, “That’s a good wolf. Come for me one more time. Let me get this fat cock soft.”

I submit to her with ease, letting her rule my body. She strokes me, her grip snug, warm, and wet as she fucks me with my own cum. Her maddening pace is relentless, going until my dick is spent and my limbs can barely hold me up. Something soft wipes against my oversensitive cock, then heavy steel encases my shaft. It’s smooth and unyielding, full of intense pressure from sharp points that graze the tip of my glans.

With glazed eyes, I look down, and a moon-mad laugh tumbles free. My cock is caged in a steel dragon, its mouth open at the tip to reveal four sharp fangs. This dragon literally has my dick by her teeth.

She leans in, whispering so only I can hear, “This comes off when I say you’ve been a good boy, pup.”

I’m done for. Shackle me to the dragon for life. Let me smoke the witch’s hash for the rest of my days while this dragon owns my cock.

She turns to the room and nods to the witch, who has amassed what appears to be a small army of the same omega-sweet-smelling humans from yesterday.

“Ice the others,” the dragon commands. To the silent watcher, she says, “Escort the wolf to my personal guard tower. I’ll be up in a moment. You’re to train him personally. Bring him up to speed before we leave.”

I can’t decide if that’s good or bad; my mind is too hazy to make sense of anything. The invisible ropes sag, and before I can collapse, I’m in the arms of the silent wolf. He picks me up as though I weigh nothing.

I should probably be worried that the wolf in charge has to carry my laid-out ass from the room, but for some reason, I only feel cozy. The weight of the cage is like a lullaby; my eyes are so drowsy they can’t stay open.

Home. Mates.

That’s the worst idea my half-formed wolf has ever had, and I try to stir from the silent wolf’s arms, saying I’m fine to walk, but the words come out slurred.

The distinguished wolf studies me, his gaze stern. “Who exactly are you?”

His hold tightens, pulling me against his chest, and I can’t hold out against the weight of oblivion any longer.

Chapter 7

Fennik

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