Page 69 of Whisper Woods

My shirt on the landing.

My pants in the hall.

My underwear in front of the door to our—his—bedroom.

Anticipation has my heart racing triple time as I race around the room to find what I need. A lamp has been left on. I’m assuming the staff have left it for me. Because without the Tathissian ability to just casually wield magic, I can’t turn on the lights. But that’s a hurdle for another day.

After a quick search, I find what I’m looking for in Rafe’s bedside drawer—a bottle of that special oil he likes to use as lube—and dive onto the bed, arranging myself like I’m not restless and panting. Practically vibrating with need.

My cock is leaking onto my belly, valiantly attempting to hold itself upright but falling against the weight of itself. His footsteps are purposefully heavy, making my heart beat painfully fast. I know he can hear the blood thundering in my veins.

Uncapping the oil, I pour some onto my hand and quickly recap it again. I poured a little too much, the scented liquid spilling onto my stomach, but when it comes to lube, more is usually better than not enough.

There is a scratching on the door, Rafe’s claws scraping against the wood. He’s taunting me. I smile at the notion and wrap my fist around my dick, giving myself a long, slow stroke.

It’s not enough. I need him and his touch. His weight on me and all around me.

The door opens slowly, revealing Rafe in all his beastly glory. The shadows make him look bigger, scarier.

Hotter.

In full beast form now, he reclines against the door frame, crossing his scaled arms over the smooth, leather-like skin of his chest. I didn’t think dragons could smirk, but he proves me wrong, the corner of his mouth hooking up on one side, revealing the dangerous points of his teeth. His long ears twitch at my gasp. I have to squeeze my dick to keep from coming right there.

The sight of him prowling towards me does nothing to ease my racing heartbeat. His clawed feet click against the wood as he approaches slowly, his taloned-hands swinging almost carelessly by his side.

As if I can’t read the tenseness in his muscles, the sharpness in his eyes. The way he tries to stop his forked tongue from darting out to lick his non-existent dragon lips.

Standing beside the bed, he takes me in, “You started without me.”

The rough growl in his voice is like gasoline on fire, pushing me right back to the brink I just walked myself back from. I have to keep my grip loose as I continue to stroke myself off, avoiding my leaking head.

I don’t reply—honestly, I don’t trust my voice. Instead I wink, and using my free hand, the one currently resting super casually above my head, I pinch mynipple, rolling it between my fingers. And then, just for a little extra flair, I arch into the touch, biting my lip and groaning dramatically.

Rafe doesn’t appreciate my theatrics. He snarls, leaning on to the bed with one knee. Finally he touches me, his talons scraping up my calf and over the sensitive inner skin of my thigh. My legs fall wider in invitation, but he doesn’t take it, withdrawing his hand instead.

“I think you should catch me up. It’s only fair, after all.”

He stands upright, one knee still on the bed, knowing how fucking magnificent he looks, the light reflecting off the intense blue of his scales. Even without eyebrows, just the scaled ridges, he still manages to raise one haughtily in my direction.

“But, Rafe.” I don’t have to feign the simpering whimper to my voice. Or the shudder that runs through me when I accidentally catch the sensitive V under my head on an upward stroke. “However could I do that?” I even bat my eyes at him, pinching my nipple even harder before stroking over the soft, blonde hair dusting my chest, down to my stomach.

If there is one thing I know on this earth, it’s how to play sexy himbo.

A threatening growl rumbles from his chest. It’s the only warning before he pounces and I find myself pinned to the bed, my hands clasped in his claws above my head. The fire inside me blazes into a raging inferno. Rafe’s ass—part scale, part thick smooth leather—sits on my hips where he straddles me.

He watches me intently as my eyes drag over him, settling on his groin, where that seam has split, revealing the slick folds of his sheath. My lungs fail me entirely as I watch the bulbous head of his cock slowly protrude. The flared head rises like a flag, hoisted by the thick, girthy shaft of his cock. Slick and glistening in the light, it’s the same midnight blue colour as the rest of his dragon form. I almost don’t spot the thick scale-like plates running down the underside of his length, but when I do, all I can think of is running my tongue over them.

Rafe’s tight grip on my wrists holds me in place when I try to move to do just that. Even when he switches, collecting my hands in just one of his, I still can’t break free. I buck my hips in a valiant attempt—to loosen his hold or throw him up so his cock lands in my mouth; I don’t know. My mind’s abandonedme at this point.

The attempt is futile, all I manage to do is rub my already too sensitive cock against his ass and make him smirk down at me.

“Now, now.” He soothes, that free hand cupping my cheek. I try to turn into it, but his thumb-claw catches on my lower lip, pulling it roughly before his hand coasts down my body with his claws. Over my neck, my pecs, my belly, leaving a quivering fire in his wake. I knew those claws would feel good.

Just like I taunted him only moments ago, he takes himself in hand, stroking himself firmly from root to tip. He’s so impossibly thick like this, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to fit the whole thing in my mouth.

But, I lick my lips, desperate for a taste of him. I really want to try.

“I thought you liked being good for me, Seff.” His honeyed voice is rough, pure sex. His hand twists over the head of his cock, collecting the liquid beading there. I glare at it, resentful that it isn’t my hand, my tongue.

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