Page 20 of Daghel

ANYA

Initiate me into the pleasures? Holy hells! I stare down at him in horror as a tongue of heat unfurls rapidly within my belly without my leave. And is he going to do this by allowing Drisk to mount him? It defies all beliefs.

“Are you certain? Drisk is a wyvern, and he’s… not small,” I murmur doubtfully but Drisk’s clicking laughter interrupts any response from him as the wyvern enters the main room.

“You did not enlighten her about a wyvern and orc’s bond before mentioning the swallowing of girthy pricks?”Drisk asks Daghel with a sort of savage glee that makes my toes curl with the anticipation of what’s coming.

Hopefully me, repeatedly.

“I have been mounted by Drisk since he claimed and bonded me,” Daghel assures me as he removes his fur cloak and tunic, tossing them casually on one of the lounges.

My mouth goes dry as I realize that all of this is completely in earnest. He is really going to do it… and let me watch. He holds my gaze as he kicks off his boots so that his bare clawed feet touch the floor and unbuckles his belt before flinging that asideas well. My pulse speeds up, and I’m sure it must be matching the rattling purr of the wyvern as Drisk’s amber eyes fasten on the orc. A hint of a smile plays at the corner of Daghel’s mouth, as if he understands exactly how much it’s affecting us, and I realize belatedly that I haven’t been even attempting to control my reaction as I watch him strip. I know he is being barraged by the perfume of my arousal that is only growing stronger as he proceeds to loosen the fabric gathered and tied at his waist. When at last it falls free, the material flows around his legs like a black woolen skirt that shifts around his ankles with every casual movement of his body.

His fingers skim over the ties of the waistband enticingly, but he doesn’t go any further. Instead, he nods toward the hall leading to our bedchamber, his dark eyes no longer icy as they blaze with the fire of his arousal. I lick my lips, suddenly nervous and very, very curious about logistics.

“No offense, but how does this work? I’m assuming, by looking at Drisk, that wyverns have internal genitalia. How do you manage cleanliness or even?—”

“Show her,” Daghel interrupts, his eyes narrowing on me with desire.

The wyvern hums in agreement and sits back on his hind legs, drawing his arms to his sides so that I have an unobstructed view of his genital sheath. His cock slides out, the blue tip pushing from the sheath as inch by inch of his slippery cock is exposed. And itisimpressive. Bearing numerous bumps and one large ridge that runs down the length to a raised pebbly spot at his cock’s tips, it’s far longer and thicker than anything I’ve taken. It’s also mercifully smaller than I expected, considering the sheer size of his frame. While he is no more than twice Daghel’s size, and more accurately quite a bit short on that, I had assumed that his cock would be more in proportion to it.

“Do you see the slick on his prick?” Daghel asks, and I quickly nod my head in confirmation. “That is not only lubrication but also a potent antiseptic, to the point where healers covet it as a cleansing fluid for wounds.”

I balk at that bit of news. “Are you telling me that I had wyvern cock juice spread over my wound?”

His lips twist in amusement as Drisk lets out another hair-raising cackle. “Straight from Drisk, as it happens.”

“Merciful gods,” I mutter. “That certainly comes close to the top of my weird shit list. So I’m assuming that whenever his phallus draws back into his sheath that it is thoroughly cleansed?”

Daghel nods and turns to Drisk, his big hand covering the wyvern’s sheath as he slowly strokes down toward the base, where he points to what appears to be a large gland in the back.

“This is not his testicles,” he informs me as he glances up to meet my gaze with obvious humor. “It is a special gland that stores the waste that occurs whenever his sheath retracts and triggers a cleansing with his excessive fluids. The waste fluid is collected here to be ejected at a later time when Drisk leaves the rookery.”

“My prick is cleaner than any orc’s on this mountain,”Drisk rejoins with a rapid click of laughter. “And my fires sustain the biochemical balance within my bodily fluids to keep it perfectly regulated.”

“That… is good to know,” I admit with a little laugh of my own.

“Come then,” Daghel growls, and the mood shifts, a serious intensity falling that makes my laughter vanish as my gaze snaps back to him.

He blends with the shadows and slips down the hall, becoming entirely invisible to me except for the burning blackness of his eyes that I can somehow still pinpoint. My heartgallops within my chest with nervous excitement as I take my first step down the hall, following after him. Drisk grunts and I glance back over my shoulder at him as he drops on to his hands to prowl into the hall behind me. His amber eyes glow brighter in the dim lighting in the hall, and I swallow nervously as my head snaps forward to where Daghel is waiting for me at the door to our bedchamber. My steps instinctively slow with uncertainty, but there is a tiny electric thrill that races up from a hidden place within me, responding to the fact that I’m very much caught in a narrow place between two big hungry males.

Their hunger is like a sucking void, tugging my senses, triggering a slow buildup of heat from within my core. Daghel waits, eyeing me like a cat watching a struggling sparrow or toying with a blind mouse. I shiver as I come up to his side and tip my head back to peer up at him. His lips twist in a faint smile and I catch a hint of his fangs as I slip past, drawn irrepressibly into the room.

The room is so dark that I can barely see where I’m going, and I must rely on memory as I step carefully so that I don’t accidentally stumble into the table and chair. My pulse pounds in my ears, filling the void with its quickening beat. A thrum rolls through me, echoing deep within me, and Drisk croons to it as he fills the doorway for a moment before slipping inside with a rhythmic hiss and the scrape of his claws against the stone floor. He prowls directly for me, but then he angles away and brushes his head against me like a big cat as he passes and heads for the bed. His pinned wings flare slightly, shadows expanding quickly in the dark and just as quickly contracting, as he climbs onto the bed before circling and waiting expectantly, his eyes like two bright gems glowing back at me.

My skin prickles as footsteps echo within the room, and I turn to face Daghel as he stalks forward, the fabric around his legs whispering with his every movement. He stops just a fewfeet away from me, and I see the shadowy outline of his head turn toward Drisk.

“The fire, Drisk. She cannot see anything otherwise.”

“Ahh,”Drisk hums with another clicking laugh, and a bright ribbon of crimson fire streaks through the air before exploding over the logs in the hearth with an eruption of dancing flames.

I squint as the room brightens abruptly. Several candelabras between the bed and the hearth also sprang to life with the stream of fire, and they cast ghostly shadows over Daghel’s paleness, making him look even less corporeal.

Of course, a wraith would invite me to witness his submission to the shadowy wyvern. Drisk’s dusky blue scales make him look like a living shadow—all except for his slickened cock, which has a strange luminescence. It jerks with a strange pulsing movement that is visible within the raised ridge running down the length of its shaft. A drop of fluid pearls at its tip but doesn’t drop to the furs on our bed. It merely trembles with the vibration of his croon as it grows louder within the chamber.

Daghel turns his head toward me and holds my gaze as his hand goes once more to his waistband. This time he doesn’t hesitate but unties the strings and the fabric slides down his muscular legs to pool at his feet. He braces his feet far apart, so that nothing is hidden, allowing me a long moment to look my fill. My eyes fall to his sex and a startled sound escapes me.

“Your cock…”

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