Page 31 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

The hard ridge of his cock pressed against my belly, insistent through the layers of our clothes. His hips rolled, a slow, deliberate friction that lit a firestorm between my legs. I arched against him, desperate for the contact.

“Clothes,” I gasped, fumbling at the fastenings of his trousers. “Too many.”

A sharp, guttural sound of assent came from him. His mouth returned to mine, devouring, as his claws made short work of the tough fabric. His cock sprang free, thick, dark crimson, glistening. Dark scales covered the base, fading into flushed, impossibly swollen flesh. That strange, mobile lip at the head pulsed. My breath caught.

My own clothes disappeared in a tangle of limbs and frantic need. Torn fabric joined his tunic on the floor. We were naked. I was gloriously, terrifyingly naked against him. He pulled back, his tail unwinding from its resting place to snake up my inner thigh, the tip leaving a trail of gooseflesh.

“Look at you,” he breathed, his voice rough, almost reverent. Golden eyes devoured me. “Open for me.”

Shame warred with a defiant surge of heat. I didn’t cover myself. My gaze dropped, tracing the powerful lines of his chest, the hard planes of his abdomen, down to the thick, alien shaft straining toward me. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, catching the light like a dark jewel.

“Bed,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a register that resonated in my bones.

My legs trembled as I slid down the wall. I took two steps toward the platform, but his tail whipped around my waist, hauling me back against his chest. Hard muscle, cool scales, radiating heat. I gasped.

“Every inch,” he murmured, hot breath ghosting against my ear. “I will tasteeverywhere. Mark you until your scent screamsmine.”

Was it offensive? It should be. But it wasn’t. Heat pooled, heavy and demanding, between my thighs.

His tail released my waist, the tip tracing a teasing path down my spine as I crawled onto the platform. Cool silks against burning skin. It was a moment’s relief. Then he was there, looming over me. His wings flared, plunging us into deeper shadow, a world shrunk to just the two of us.

The tip of his tail returned, dancing between my legs. Teasing strokes against slick folds, circling my entrance but never pushing inside. Never giving me the friction I craved. I writhed, hips lifting off the sheets.

“Please,” the word ripped out of me, raw and unfamiliar.

“Pleasewhat,vrakasha?” That word again. Dark honey and threat. “Tell me.” His voice was a low growl near my ear.

“You. Inside.Now.” I reached down, trying to guide him.

His hand clamped around my wrist, pinning it gently above my head. “Patience.” A predator’s rumble. His mouth descended, closing over my breast. That tongue—long, rough, unbelievably hot—rasped across my nipple. I cried out, arching hard.

“So sensitive,” he purred against my skin, pure masculine satisfaction. “Trembling for me.” His tail resumed its wicked game, sliding through the wetness, stretching me just enough to torment. “So wet.”

It was truth. My body screamed its betrayal, its need. His mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of fire over my ribs, my stomach. I knew where he was going. I couldn’t stop him. Didn’t want to.

The first touch of his tongue to my core—I shattered. It was deeper than human. Rougher. The ridges created an almost unbearable friction. His hands gripped my thighs, parting me further. He consumed me. Relentless focus.

“Taste …,” he growled into me, the vibrations shaking my bones, “like fire. Like mine.”

His lips closed around my clit. Fangs, a hair's breadth away. Delicious danger. He suckled, tongue working magic, and the world dissolved. Orgasm slammed into me, stealing breath, stealing thought. My back bowed off the silks, a scream tearing from my throat, his name echoing in the small space. My fingers clawed at his shoulders, seeking purchase in a world gone white-hot.

He didn’t stop. He kept lapping, sucking, working me through the aftershocks until I was limp, trembling, skin exquisitely oversensitive. Only then did he lift his head, golden eyes blazing with fierce, possessive pride.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, crawling up my body. He kissed me, deep and slow. I tasted myself on him. The intimacy stole my breath all over again.

I felt the thick, blunt pressure near my entrance. Not his cock. His tail. More insistent this time. “Let me,” he murmured, voice ragged against my throat. “Prepare you. Don’t want to hurt …”

Before I could form words, he pushed inside. It was slow. Inexorable. The tapered tip stretched me, scales providing a rippling, alien friction. Not pain. Just … fullness. Strange perfection.

“Easy,” he coaxed, his voice strained. “Take it.”

His tail moved within me, a slow, deliberate invasion. Stretching, curling, learning my depths. Finding places I didn’t know existed. Each internal ripple sent sparks behind my eyes. His mouth worked my throat, my collarbone, leaving damp heat and the faint sting of fang marks. He was branding me.

I was dissolving under the dual assault, writhing, gasping his name, pleading without words. He withdrew his tail. A moment of shocking emptiness. Then it was replaced. Hot, blunt, impossibly thick. The head of his cock nudged against my opening.

“Look at me.” One large hand cupped my jaw, forcing my gaze to meet his. Molten gold burned into me. “Watch.”

Eyes locked, he pushed inside. Slowly. That ridged, pulsing lip at the crown nudged against hyper-sensitive flesh. Stretching. Burning. Filling me completely. He was bigger. So much bigger than human. The texture—scales grading into velvet heat—was utterly alien, utterly consuming.

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