Page 32 of Daghel

I hesitate, uncertain despite the eager flex of my cock, until Drisk’s biting voice blasts through my mind in chastisement.

“Do it,”he growls in a command that he never dares with me.“Your indecision is maddening. Skewer her upon your prick and comfort yourself with the fact that as the two of you are slaking your pleasure that it will be an additional point pinning her in place and extra warmth for our female.”

I groan a growl that rips from deep within me as I surrender and clamp my legs hard around his torso, then reach into my surc and pull my swollen cock free. It is already slippery with pre-cum and every ridge and pearl of flesh painfully hard. I let go of it with an impatient sound and tug Anya’s skirt just enough out of how I’m able to reach between her legs and drag a clawed digital gently through her sopping, messy heat. She is literally dripping, her heat scorching me despite the coldness of her skin. She bumps against my finger and whines in protest.

“Daghel, fuck me already,” she hisses and sighs with a low moan when I grip my cock and push her undergarments and the hidden opening of her surc out of the way, feeding it against the welcoming slit of her cunt. “Perfect. Just like that. I feel so warm right now—make me blaze.”

I growl deep in my chest, and I am not entirely sure if it is with lust or protest. The darkness plucks at my senses, stirring the most primal parts of my instincts to breed, claim, protect, and love higher in a jumble of confusion where I cannot separate my own feelings from those which the darkness inspires. I feel utterly lost within it, but above that is the hunger and need to join with my mate that echoes Drisk’s own longing. Withoutpreamble, I thrust, forcing the girth of my cock into her slick channel, driving completely to the root as we cry out together in ecstasy.

Holding her to me, I grip the saddle once more and begin to rock against it, shuttling my cock fiercely in and out of her as Drisk’s strand squeezes my shaft and strokes the inside of it with every pass. I can feel his other strands sliding against my cock within her, stroking her channel as she shakes and shatters over me. Yet still she rocks in counterpoint to my every thrust, her pants turning aggressive as she desperately rides herself to another climax, her channel milking me when such strength that I erupt with a roar as she screams her pleasure.

I drive into her trembling, squeezing heat, seed boiling up from my testicles, spewing in hot bursts that make me bellow with every jerk of my cock. The darkness strokes over us, bringing us to fever pitch over and over, my cock spilling so often that I can feel it saturating my surc completely, but still it does not cease. It does not give us a moment to rest, does not slacken its hold on us to allow the heat to cool—it laughs, a dark chuckle burrowing through my head straight to the center of my being as I rut my mate on Drisk’s back as the wyvern shrieks his own pleasure and flames the low, icy peaks beneath us, our pleasure joining us and entwining us together as one.

The hold of the darkness seems infinite until at last it untangles from us and slips away, leaving us gasping and shivering in the aftermath as the outline of the palace peak and our cold rookery within its cliffside comes into view. Drisk makes for it without even a tremble in his wings as he powers through the snow with renewed vigor. He skims along the face of the palace cliffs with a surprising speed before folding his wings to plunge into our rookery’s access point, plunging deep within its long tunnel as we finally arrive home. Perhaps in more waysthan one as my cock gives one last spasm within her clutch and we both cry out our bliss.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

ANYA

Iam drifting so sweetly as Daghel dismounts, drawing me from Drisk’s back as the male’s strands pull free from me, making me shake with bliss. Unfortunately, the cold air and the residual effects of the storm are catching up to me with such strength that I’m violently shivering in my mate’s arms. I can’t complain too much. If not for all the fucking, I would probably be dead. Although I had been warned, the reality of the situation settled with a grim and inescapable weight. I shouldn’t have survived. I don’t know what happened up there. Daghel seemed possessed as he fucked me, and the way my body answered to it and craved every bit of it with a wild frenzy frightens me in retrospect even as I feel a deep, dark craving for it come alive within my core.

“Saved by dick,” I whisper with a chuckle, bringing Daghel’s worried gaze to my face.

He shakes his head but quickly gathers me more firmly into his arms and swiftly carries me to our bedchamber. “Your odd sense of humor never ceases to surprise me,” he mutters as he gently deposits me on the bed.

I grin weakly at him in response, but promptly bury my face in the furs to moan pitifully when he turns away to gather up the largest and thickest of the furs. Gods, I am so messed up. His gentleness makes me feel even worse because I can see the guilt in his eyes. It is obvious that he didn’t get the same charge out of it that I did—or if he did, then it must have made him uncomfortable. Damn.

Oh, Anya, can you be more shameless, I scold myself. Who in the right mind wants to be fucked to the edge of oblivion while practically in the cold clasp of death’s claws?

It did teach me one important lesson, though: the winter storms that are so common in the depths of the Cold Mountains are no joke. And realistically far more than any human could handle. It is no wonder that Zyerk’s king and ruling parliament are content to leave the mountains undisturbed as the northernmost border of the kingdom.

“She is too cold,”Drisk complains, and he belches a startling huge flame directly into the hearth, making Daghel drop the furs with a curse as he runs to smother the tiny embers and flames dancing across our bedchamber’s floor.“Apologies,”Drisk grumbles and grimaces as he settles close to me in an attempt to warm me with the heat of his body.

I hate to tell him that I don’t feel a thing and that’s beginning to worry me. In fact, I dare say that my shivering is getting worse. The numbness doesn’t stop me from jumping at the loud banging echoing from the rookery’s door. I can see that Daghel is tempted to ignore it as he bends to gather the furs that he dropped, but whoever is knocking is relentless and the banging is now a nonstop symphony that works his last nerve until he tosses the entire bundle he’s collected onto the bed beside me and storms from the room with a clipped command to Drisk to keep me warm.

I want to cry for the lack of good it’s doing, but blink back the icy tears before they can drip down my cold cheeks. No sense in making myself even colder and more miserable than I already am. Instead, I focus on trying to control my shivering enough so that the sound of my teeth rattling in my head doesn’t drown out the voices echoing down the hall when Daghel pulls the door open with a surly, “What is it?”

“About time,” an irate female voice snaps, and I imagine that she shoves her way inside from how her voice rapidly increases in volume. “Vorn sent me the moment his guards noticed Drisk dropping into the rookery. I am to tell you that he requests your presence… immediately. I cannot imagine what could possibly be so urgent about Glas Village of all places that it cannot wait until morning. Honestly, it was suicidal that you returned tonight at all,” she berates him.

I grimace. Linahna doesn’t sound happy, but I cannot blame her. It is a cold and miserable night, and the prince has no compunction about sending his sister and the rightful heir on errands for him.

“I cannot. Not right now,” Daghel replies flatly. “I am needed by my wyva’s side. The return was hard on Anya, and she is having difficulty recovering from it.”

“Wyva?” she replies with a note of surprise that promptly fades into fury. “She is your wyva, but you are telling me that you took her there and didn’t stay? Are you completely insane? I had assumed that perhaps you left her here to await your return, and that was the reason for your rush back, but to hear this… where is she?” she loudly demands seconds before I hear a commotion in the hall like a pack of hellhounds preparing to eviscerate me.

Perhaps I should be a little concerned about what is charging my way, but I wince as the entire rookery seems to shake with her bellow. Is my hearing becoming more sensitive, or does Linahna simply have a very powerful set of lungs? I steel myself,preparing for the worst. Perhaps she will think a foolish human too weak for the male she cannot have and will take it upon herself to murder me on the spot to put me out of my misery? It is an insane thought, but I can admit that I’m not feeling quite right. I may be slightly feverish after all.

I slump against Drisk, suddenly very tired, drawing a concerned rumble from the wyvern seconds before Linahna flies into the room with Daghel hot on her heels. Her eyes go round for only a heartbeat before she springs into action and rushes to my side.

“She is practically frozen,” Linahna scolds, a scowl tightening her face. “If you insisted on taking her, why would you ever keep her out so long? And then to fly back… You should have just stayed in the lower village overnight. Drisk would have found a comfortable enough place to sleep and keep warm. Get these wet things off her.”

“I wouldn’t let him,” I admit, forcing the words between chattering teeth. “I wouldn’t let him leave Drisk outside. I-it’s damned inhumane the way wyverns are barred from any of the comforts their orcs enjoy whenever the gathols must attend to the villages. And don’t scold him too much because until now I’ve been delightfully warm.”

She gives me an arched look, but upon peeling off my frozen skirts and drawers, she chuckles wryly despite herself. “I guess I can imagine exactly how you were kept warm. Creative. Insane as all hells, but creative, I must give you that.”

“I did not plan it, female,” Daghel grouses as he nudges her out of the way to drag off my chemise and bundle me up in a thick fur as he rubs me briskly. “Call it a compellation if you will,” he grunts. “Thankfully, whatever it was, it at least did some good by way of keeping her safe until we returned. But I do not know what to make of this.”

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