Page 293 of Scorching the Alien Empire
He steps closer, pressing his forehead to mine, his nose tickling mine. Our hot breaths mingle in the space between us. A pressure cooker of bubbling gravy that belongs to us alone.
“It warms my heart more than you could ever know.”
Oh.
Oh gods.
I melt. Straight-up fondue.
“Ah,” I purr, voice low and husky as my fingers trace the divine topography of his abs, like a blind pilgrim worshiping Mount Olympus. “I think...”
My fingers slide down to the quickly growing evidence of his approval. “You. Should. Fuck. My. Brains. Out.”
They spider down his stomach like a very sexy tarantula. Lexantula.
Beep!
My arm vibrates.Of course.
“Ugh! Seriously? A blinky bonknow?” I groan, trying to focus on the shimmering message as Dracoth trails those molten fangs over my neck like I’m a naughty Snickers bar begging for unwrapping.
Then I freeze. A chill knifes through me.
“A summons,” I mutter. “To meet Krogoth and the Imperator. At the Bellatorium. Within the hour.”
Dracoth pauses, eyes flicking to my wrist console. The heat between us simmers.
“Don’t stop,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around his thick bull-neck, peppering his chest with kisses like a lip-powered machine gun.
“Never stop. I need you—always will.”
Chapter 53
Dracoth
Loose Ends
Agutturalsnarlripsfrommy throat as I drive into my Princesa. My hands seize her hips, dragging her back onto my punishing length with a need so feral it sends crimson clouds of Rush plums around us.
Her sex clenches—molten, divine, perfect. I’m torn between dueling instincts: to crush her under the weight of my desire, to consume her utterly... or to hold, to cherish.
Her body chooses for me.
Another orgasm tears through her—violent, trembling. Her cries crescendo from pained moans into a high, delirious squeal. Like wounded prey, I descend on her weakness, pressing deeper, channeling the last of Arawnoth’s fire through my cock, branding her from the inside.
“UHHH... Sparklers!” she laughs, half-mad with pleasure.
I tangle my fingers in her golden hair and yank her head back. She gasps, squirming, trying to escape my relentless pace. She can’t. She’s mine—now and forever. Sweat gleams across her pale skin, radiant and flushed, every tremor proof that the heat I pour into her is more than any mortal could endure for long.
“Perhaps I will claim your spine,” I growl, fangs brushing her ear, a claw tracing the delicate arch of her back.
“Do it!” she gasps, pushing back into me. “Tear me open and burn me to ash. My Red Dragon,” she moans, eyes half-lidded, utterly wrecked.
I erupt.
A roar bursts from my lungs—deep, primal, deafening—as the flimsy Nebian bed shatters beneath my thunderous thrusts. I barely notice the crash to the floor. I’m too consumed.
My orgasm surges through me like she’s ripping the soul from my body, drawing every drop into hers. In this moment of sacred madness, Iwanther to take it all—everything I am, everything I burn with—buried deep inside her. My thrusts slow, heavy, as jets of molten seed pulse into her core.
