Page 11 of Dragons' Bride
Quinton wasn't sorry for any of them. But he didn’t belong in this pleasure den either. He was on the wrong side of it all, and his touch would do nothing but remind the human of how much torment he brought to the world. To her. That was how the world worked. For every noble king sitting on a throne there had to be an assassin in the shadows. For Kit to survive to enjoy her pleasure, someone had to dole out the pain. Ettienne might have chosen Quinton for the role, but he was damn good at it.
“No,” Quinton told the others. “I want no part of this rut.”
Tavias growled.
Hauck shook his head.
Kit's eyes slid over to Quinton, the betrayal in them shooting all the way to his core.
Ignoring everyone, Cyril pushed himself into Kit. He moved slowly, the great size of him much more than what humans were used to. Even most fae found dragon shifters uncomfortably large. At least at first. Then the scales took sensations to a new level, making it all worth it in the end.
Kit wasn't there yet though, and the three princes around her purred in soothing harmony as Cyril advanced, inch by inch. Hauck kissed her mouth encouragingly and Tavias massaged her nub, teasing it in ways Quinton was sure Tavias had uncovered over the past few days of training. With each heartbeat, each small measure of Cyril’s shaft sliding inside her, Kit gasped and bucked. A mix of shock and pleasure, anxiety and arousal, all alternated along her beautifully expressive face.
The pressure in Quinton’s own cock built impossibly. As Cyril finally slid in to the hilt, filling the human deeply, Quinton bit back a savage roar.
6. KIT
“Stars!” My back arches, my eyes popping open, as a tsunami of sensation shoots from my channel through my whole body. It isn’t just the stretch and the fullness and the feeling of something impossibly large and yet perfect filling me. It is something else entirely. Dozens of tiny prickles, each teasing out a bouquet of erotic arousal, are all brushing the most sensitive spots inside me.
The scales. Oh, stars. The scales on Cyril’s cock are shifting about like tiny little tongues. I try to bite my lip to keep from howling at the intensity, but it’s a lost cause. I scream Cyril’s name and he starts to move inside me. His control is infinite, though he too roars. And shakes. Sweat stands out on both our brows.
Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.
Cyril's heavy sack slaps wetly against my backside in a growing rhythm. As if that isn’t enough, Hauck’s tongue ruts my mouth, sucking and stroking in a way that’s as erotic as the intrusion inside me. Tavias directs it all, one hand massaging my breasts and the other between my folds, rubbing my engorged bud. The pack leader’s eyes are half-lidded, his desire for me pulsating in rhythm to my own heart. To that of Cyril’s strokes inside me.
The pressure builds up until I know that one more brush of Tavias’s finger will shatter me into a million pieces. I’m panting with anticipation. With unbearable desperation. Just one more touch, that’s all it will take. One touch. I tremble.
Tavias stops.
I scream.
“Please. Oh, stars. Please. Please.” I don’t know whether the words are coming out of my mouth or my mind, but the predatory flash in Tavias’s eyes says he’s heard my pleas perfectly. And that he liked it.
No.Tavias’s mind voice murmurs inside me.Not yet, pet.
I whimper, undulating. Needing.
Cyril pumps harder, his scales shifting about to find new spots inside me. Rousing the secrets I didn’t know I have.
Please.I beg, trying to grind myself on the hand Tavias holds just out of reach.
Wait for my command, wildcat.
“Almost there,” Hauck promises. I wonder if he hears the mind exchange between Tavias and me, or is just guessing. The too pleased smile on his face drives me mad.
I want to cry and scream and jump out of my skin.
Cyril licks his canines.
I bite back a howl.
Alright. Now.Tavias’s order echoes through my whole body and Cyril gives the hardest thrust yet while Tavias brushes my nub. All my pleasure points ignite at once. Hot seed spills inside me, and I shatter around Cyril’s shaft, my channel squeezing him, my muscles spasming in overwhelmed ecstasy.
I scream as I spiral. Still inside me, Cyril holds my thighs, his grip tight and secure. Tavias and Hauck’s reassuring hands rub my shoulders and belly. Between my thighs, Cyril’s powerful chest heaves with rapid breaths, but he doesn't pull out until I settle. Only then does he allow himself to disengage, stumbling back in a drunk-like stupor.
Before I can miss the male’s warm presence, Hauck takes Cyril’s place. He's gotten himself naked all the way and now leans over me, rubbing me down with his scent and warm rose oil, inside and out.
“You are gorgeous in release,” Hauck murmurs, digging his thumbs into the fullest part of my backside. It feels divine in a whole different way. “If I could drink your every sound and scent, I would never need wine again.”
