Page 42 of Daghel

“To the floor now. You are ready,” he rasps.

“Why the floor?” Anya looks over at him warily, but she follows him to the floor only to stare at him when he lies on the cold stone and pulls her down on top of him.

“When Drisk flames—and he will—it is better if it is on the floor than our bed,” he replies with a wry chuckle and nods toward the charred wall.

I grimace at the black stain. It is not often that I lose control. But in this particular case, it is necessary. When I give her my flame, it is better that there is nothing flammable beneath us.

“Flames?” An uneasy look flashes across her face and she glances over at me as realization dawns that she will have me filling her ass where once her little plaything filled her. Thereis a flicker of doubt, but her jaw hardens, and she nods as she straddles his rigid cock.

Even after climaxing as much as he has, his cock is swollen with his mating rut, so Anya’s cunt has no trouble swallowing him in one easy glide. She rocks experimentally on it to reawaken her own pleasure and need before she sinks down with a sigh, her lush body covering him as his arms wrap tightly around her, pinning her in place. He flexes his hips, working his cock in shallow little thrusts and growls low in his throat.

“Join us now, Drisk,” he pants, and I readily drop from the bed and prowl over to where they lie on the floor.

Our female looks like a decadent morsel with her ass lifted into the air. I want a taste so bad that I lower my muzzle and drag it from her ass to where her slit is wrapped tightly around my bonded male’s prick. I stroke my tongue along the connection point between their bodies, enjoying their little gasps and moans as I stroke and flick my tongue, enjoying their mingled flavors. Tipping my head just a little, I wiggle my long, tapered tongue against her slit, pressing it alongside his shaft as I penetrate her with it, savoring her taste as my tongue curls deep inside of her. I work it in and out of her and am rewarded when she climaxes, spraying her sweet essence into my mouth. It is like nectar of the gods! I could be content to remain buried in such a fashion, dragging my tongue in and out of her for quite some time, but Daghel’s cock jerk in warning against it, reminding me of our purpose.

I grumble but withdraw my tongue, enjoying the snug pull of her channel around it and Daghel’s cock. It is a sensation he also clearly enjoys since he hisses between his teeth with pleasure, but he gives me an annoyed look over Anya’s shoulder. I bare my teeth in a grin, but I adjust my arm-wings as I take my place, my feet planted at either side of Daghel’s legs and my claws dropping on either side of my mates, pressing my wings firmlyagainst the floor. My slick cock grazes Anya’s ass and she shivers in reaction so that I chirp happily and rest more confidently behind her as the tip of my cock notches at her tight ass.

Bracing my weight, I press forward. I take my time, enjoying every whimper from her as Daghel moans in response to the pressure of my cock tightly rubbing against his, separated only by a thin wall of inner flesh.

Oh, this is very nice. I must insist on doing this often in the future.

Flames lick over my tongue as I withdraw shallowly before pressing in a hard, abrupt thrust back into her clenching hole. Anya makes a strangled sound, but it is all pleasure, and I growl as I do it again. And again. My pace quickens as I get into a rhythm and Daghel rocks his hip in tiny shallow thrusts at counterpoint. The feeling is delicious. A shudder rushes over me and my cock swells and spasms deep with her as she flexes instinctively around me. My claws hook against the store floor as I thrust, her hot ass clenching tightly around me. And she is loud, ourwyva, as all of her perfect control shatters as we penetrate her. Her mouth gapes as she gasps and cries out with every thrust. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that I am breeding her. I grunt as I thrust harder, my hips snapping with the build of pleasure rising within me. I stroke into her long and hard as Daghel bounces, his ass lifting to thrust up into her from his position on the bottom. Flames rise from within the pit of me, drawing higher with every thrust and every rippling squeeze of her body around me as she wails her pleasure.

Daghel’s prick flexes, pressing its heavily engorged length hard against mine. His hips begin jerking to drive his cock faster and harder into her, riding the wave of his impending climax. I grind against it, flames filling my mouth once again as I drive my cock into her repeatedly, working myself into a frenzy.

It is coming. I feel the bright, hot glow of my mating flames rising from deep behind my gonads as it makes a scorching path up through my body. My internal testicles pulse and draw tighter as deep spasming takes hold over me. My prick hardens further as the blood vessels swell to their maximum. Daghel comes with a roar, his cock shuttling in and out of her furiously, tipping me over the edge of pleasure. My senses plunge into ecstasy as the fire erupts, spewing in rivers everywhere as Anya screams and screams, her height of ecstasy making her appear as a goddess as she wrenches back from Daghel’s hold, her back arching exquisitely as she reaches back to grip the smallest horn toward the end of my muzzle as she rides and soars through her bliss, remade.

Our wyva. My wyva. She is now ours, reborn in wyvern’s fire, mated and claimed.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

ANYA

Istir languidly, my limbs still aching but in the best of ways. Gods, what a night! Although I still feel the faint flicker of fire beneath my skin, I barely remember Daghel gathering me in his arms and lifting me back onto the bed. I am a little surprised, however, to discover that not only are my mates missing from my bed, but that the furs have long gone cold. They’ve been gone for a while. Sitting up, I rub my eyes and frown as I glance around the empty room. For a moment, I swear I see an inky black shadow looming, but it disappears when I turn to focus on it.

The shadows within the palace and its rookery are strange.

I shake my head and climb from the bed, but am immediately distracted by the sound of laughter coming from the common room. My lips curl happily and pull on a clean shift and dressing gown before slipping my feet into my slippers and heading out into the hall of the rookery.

I do not know what I expect to see, but the sight of Daghel sitting cross-legged on the floor as he wrestles with straw, twisting them methodically into shapes and binding them withcord, is a charming surprise. His eyes lift to me and warm as he offers me the briefest wink. I grin in response to his unusual demonstrative affection. How adorable. Drisk is absent, of course, but he is frequently gone in the morning to hunt up a meal to gorge himself on before bringing a choice rump or section of one of kills back to us. Linahna grins at me from where she is sprawled on the plush bench, a cup in her hand and the hint of spiced hard cider in the air informs me that she located the bottle we hadn’t yet opened and started the party early. She follows his line of gaze to me and lifts her cup in salutation.

“Good morrow, Anya! How does it feel to be thoroughly fucked and mated?”

I grin at her candid words and step into the room, plopping onto the bench beside her. “I see that you already possessed secret knowledge before the fact,” I tease, and she smirks back at me.

“Who am I to get between good fuck and true love?” she says as she takes another long drink from her cup. “May we all be so blessed.”

I frown a little at her note of misery, but she waves off my concern. “Do not worry yourself. I thought I had this thing going with a female in a nearby village, just a flirtation, mind you. Unfortunately, I decided to pay her a call only to find her skewered on an orc’s cock quite passionately.” She sighs a little and shrugs, her lips tipping merrily. “I will find my perfect little mate someday, so do not dare worry about me.”

I give her a sympathetic smile, but I nod in agreement. “Of course, and on your mating, I swear I will drink cups of cider with you as well.”

Her expression softens, and she nods toward the kitchen facing the common room. “Get a cup then and we shall drink heartily to your mating.”

“Not too heartily,” I say as I get to my feet and head toward the kitchen. “We have our sweep to make, and I need to be relatively sober for it. At least enough to not affect Drisk. The last thing anyone needs is a wyvern falling from the sky.”

“That may be the case tomorrow, but not today,” Linahna singsongs from the bench, her head falling back to peer at me over the padded, high back of the bench. “I was walking past Vorn’s quarters—just a touch of my usual spying—and heard Daghel tell him that he refused you into the mountains when you are so vulnerable post-mating.”

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