Page 40 of Daghel

“Then you shall always have one,” Daghel replies and I chirp my agreement as the male curls his arms around her, hugging her to his side.

It is a perfect moment and I am about to suggest that Daghel go into the palace to locate some mulled wine for us—even if it does irritate the fires just a little for wyverns—so that we can drink, make merry, and carry out our prepared gift for our female, a true mating as we both take her and bathe her in our fires. An itch of excitement runs over my scales but a knock at the door interrupts the mood. Linahna… already.

Grumbling surlily, I sprawl on the floor and glower toward the entrance, letting my displeasure be known as Anya disappears and then quickly returns with Linahna in tow, the latter laughing at our mate’s exuberance as she carries a large, colorfully wrapped box with her free arm with a bottle tucked into the crook of her elbow. Her smile widens unrepentantly asher gaze falls on me and then shifts to Daghel, who stands a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest. I am not the only one annoyed by the interruption. I am certain that he told her of our intention to mate with our wyva tonight. That the female gives us an evil spice and cheery wave when Anya releases her hand upon entering the common room chafes.

What is this female up to? What is Anya up to? My gaze narrows suspiciously on the pair of them before falling slowly back to the box. What is that? The favor that Anya mentioned?

Anya frowns at us with disapproval before turning a smile of chagrin to Linahna. “I’m so sorry about this reception. I did warn them that you were coming.”

“It is fine,” Linahna assures her. “As it happens, I cannot stay, but I did say that I would bring this by for you, so I am just dropping it off.” She hands the colorful box to Anya. “And this,” she adds as she also hands her the bottle, which our female immediately passes to Daghel.

“Are you certain you did not want to stay? At least share a drink with us,” Anya insists, but the princess shakes her head, her eyes sparkling mirthfully.

“I would like to,” she drawls, making my scales prickle angrily, “but no. Not this eve. As it happens, I was invited to another village for some merriment for Gehl, and it will be a relief to get away from all the gloom of the palace and upper village. But your rookery is spectacular,” she admits with a note of admiration in her voice.

That softens some of my hostility. At least the female has some taste, even if she is unpleasantly devious.

“Oh, well, that is a different matter then,” Anya says. “We went to Glas Village, and it was truly beautiful. We had such a good time. You can just join us another time. You will be missed, of course.”

“Oh, I am certain you will survive without me,” Linahna teases. “But I will check in with you tomorrow for all the details,” she says as she leans in and brushes a kiss on Anya’s cheek. “Be sure to do everything that I would not do,” she teases.

Giving Anya’s arm a fond pat, she turns and struts to the door, winking slyly at us as she passes. “Happy Gehl, you all,” she purrs before slipping out the door, leaving us alone with our wyva.

I glance down at the gift left on the stuffed sitting bench. Curious, I prowl over to it and tap the box with one claw. The package is so overdone with the costly fabric wrapping it that it strikes me as exactly what an elf would come up with. Humans clearly did not improve at all on the tradition’s garishness. It is a strange custom overall. However, what strikes me as even stranger is that Anya did not immediately stuff it under her Yulen tree as she explained is done. Instead, it is left here, teasing us. Even Daghel is peering at it curiously, though his expression is as impassive as ever. It is clear that neither of us knows what to expect. Among the orcs gifts are given spontaneously through the twelve-day festival, little tokens of affection, and among wyverns… well… our gifts are the same gift we give for everything—a good rutting to ring in the holiday.

“Is this… for us?”I query, and our wyva claps her hands together with a laugh of delight.

“Yes! I’ve been waiting patiently forever for it to be ready and Linahna sent me a message this morning. Happy Gehl!”

I glance over at Daghel and nudge the gift with my claws in his direction. I am too nervous to open it with my limited dexterity. My bonded male gives me an understanding look and unties the ribbon that holds the fabric snuggling tucked into place. It all falls away to reveal a box stained black with brass metal fittings. With a flick of a claw, he releases the latch and opens it. We stare down at the contents together and I chirpsoftly in wonder as he reaches into it and withdraws a long lash with several woven tails at its tip. He glances over at our mate, an eyebrow rising.

“What is this, wyva?”

“A box of pleasures,” she replies in a sultry voice.

“Pleasures,” the orc rumbles, his voice deepening with interest as he sets the lash aside and reaches in again to withdraw a large phallus hooked to an unmistakable strap. “I have an idea of what pleasures can be had with this. I would be delighted to make you scream.”

“That’s sweet,” she replies as she gently plucks it from his fingers and sets it aside. “But later. As it happens, the box of pleasures itself is not your only gift. The actual gift is so much more than this.”

“More?” Daghel echoes with interest.

“Oh yes, but first… let’s take this to the bedchamber,” she says as she picks up the lash and phallus, depositing the latter into the box. She points at it with the lash and smiles. “Don’t forget the box.”

There is no objection there. That was exactly where our festivities were to go, anyway. I continue to chirp with delight as Daghel scoops up to the box and we follow our female down the corridor. She turns in the center of our bedchamber to watch us enter and gestures to the bed with the lash.

“Put the box on the floor,” she commands, her eyes following him as he carefully lowers it to the stone floor. Her lips quirk in response. “Good. Now, take off your clothes and get on your knees.”

Daghel eyes her impassively for a moment but then smirks and quickly sheds his tunic and surc. Anya’s smile widens and her hands go to her simple shift to untie the ribbons keeping it together. The warm layers to drop the floor as she undoes each one and hunger stirs within me as I watch my gift slowly beunwrapped. It is perfection and when the firelight touches her skin, giving it a warm glow, I want to skip the preamble and go straight to giving her my fires now. It is only my intrigue with what she has planned that keeps me in place as she prowls toward the bed where Daghel kneels, his eyes tracking her movements with predatory intensity as she stalks over to where he is kneeling.

She drags the lash along his shoulders and chest, and I watch with interest as his flesh quivers in response. Flicking it against his chest, she draws a soft rumble of pleasure from the male as a bright mark streaks across his chest. Anya smiles and traces patterns over his skin before flicking him again and again, each at unexpected intervals so that his muscles clench with anticipation and his cock swells with desire. She slides it over his straining length, her toes brushing against his sack so that they cradle the root of his phallus. She rubs her foot gently on the underside of his shaft, making him growl in pleasure, a sound that breaks into a loud moan when she gently flicks the lash against the tip of his cock.

“Good,” she murmurs. “You are doing so well. Perhaps a reward, yes?” Placing her hand at the top of his head, she widens her stance as she pushes him down, bringing her beautiful cunt close his face. She widens her stance, firmly settling her foot against his cock and gently rocks her weight, pressing her slick folds close to his mouth and nose. I stare with fascination, salivating with my hunger as Daghel’s nostrils flare. “Taste me,” she purrs.

Daghel growls with desire and his long tongue slips from his mouth to slick over her slit. She sucks in a breath and his growl deepens as his powerful arms curl around her to grasp her ass, holding her in place, his tusks spreading her folds as his mouth seals against her. A cry of need rises from our wyva and she grinds her pretty cunt against his mouth as her foot rubsagainst his cock. She punctuates the pleasure of my bonded with intermittent flicks of the lash that she continues to trace over him as she surrenders to the haze of her desire.

Her moans fill the bedchamber and my cock swells lustfully within my sheath, her hips canting in rhythm with every stroke of her foot again Daghel’s cock. Every so often she presses down against it with a fraction of her weight, making the male snarl, delirious with his desire. With every touch, his moans are drawn steadily from him, muffled against her cunt. All the while he works against her sweet flesh, lapping and sucking at her sex with boiling need.

“Such a perfect mouth,” she moans as his tongue delves into the hot clasp of her sex, making her tilt her head back with a short gasp. “So good.”

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