Page 58 of Dragons' Mate
Can't even slow the tendrils of power. Magic spills all around, pouring from all of the places the males touch.
I writhe.
Tavias grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head to the ground. Amethyst fire burns in his eyes and he snarls with uncontrolled lust.
I shove at him with my magic but meet a hard wall of silver that is so intimately familiar that I nearly find release from the collision alone. Though he still stands away from the pack, Quinton is vibrating with power that's now battling mine.
Hauck's hands tighten on the inside of my thighs and he plunges inside me. Not his tongue now, but his cock, which is so much thicker and longer than it has a right to be.
He thrusts hard, like he is going to conquer me and I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him deeper still.
A beast-like roar fills the shelter, drowning out the storm outside. It takes a moment to realize that it is me. My voice. My roar.
My back arches and a keening cry breaks from my lips as I explode with power, breaking Tavias's grip and rolling Hauck until it's him on his back and me riding his shaft.
My mind splinters as the magic, the power and the curve of Hauck’s cock inside me launches me into another dimension. My body explodes and I'm left screaming, writhing and begging for more.
And more is given.
As Hauck thrusts into me wildly, Tavias rocks me forward and takes me from the back. The double penetration magnified each stroke of their cocks. In and out, in and out. So hard and fierce that it should rip me to shreds, but it doesn't.
Because I'm no longer mortal.
The scales along their cocks are warm and harder-edged than I've ever felt before as they flare and shift inside me. They scrape and bite, lighting up every nerve inside me with pleasure so intense it's cruel.
Cyril's fingers tangle in my hair and he forces my head back. My mouth opens and he takes it, flooding me with his taste. The kiss is as possessive as the grip he has on my hair, whatever gentleness lives inside the dragon is gone in favor of the claiming.
I'm glad for it. My nails rake down his abs and along the column of scales on his belly. I can feel Cyril quiver at that and see the way his scales flare and shift color frantically.
My lips move to the scales on his neck, licking and biting and tasting him.
Cyril’s grip on my hair tightens as my teeth break his skin. The taste of blood mingles with his taste of ocean and unlocks another visceral gate deep inside my core. Power floods from him into me, a force and a presence that is more than just him. It is everything that he is and the place where he came from and it all feels like a part of me now.
My power is pulsing, growing and spilling into the pack in a mix of thrusts and jolts of power and pleasure. I anchor myself against Cyril, taking the males as deeply as I can.
But even with riding Hauck's shaft, and Tavias's thrusting and the scrape of Cyril's teeth along my ear, it's not enough. I'm not whole.
"Quinton." I rasp the male's name and he inhales sharply. He still stands away, the lone dragon. The assassin. The shadow. The one who does not believe himself worthy of the pack, though his magic and mine are already intertwined. "Quinton," I say again, reaching out for his hand. "I need you. We all do."
"You don't," he says. "You are better without—"
"Quinton!" I howl his name as Hauck's cock strokes the deepest part of me and my channel contracts, clenching around his shaft. Pressure grows inside my body, seeking release that I refuse to accept without my whole pack here.
The storm outside our shelter is ferocious now. The wind is screaming as thunder and hale join the winter flurry. It pounds against the roof like wild drums, faster and harder and demanding.
Hauck and Tavias both thrust harder, pumping into me like they are going to die if they don't. I ride Hauck's cock while Tavias thrusts into my ass, his powerful hands holding me as my body shakes and spasms at the edge of pleasure.
And still, Quinton won't move.
"Please," I beg him.
That one word and he is beside me at once, Cryil shifting to give him space. Quinton's eyes glow with silver flame as he wraps his hand around my neck.
My eyes widen, my senses roaring at the threat that feels a thousand times more potent now that my dragon has awoken. But instead of fighting back, I lift my chin, giving my mate all the access he wants. Giving him my trust.
Quinton squeezes his grip, but the jolt of terror it brings morphs to a pleasure that magnifies everything. The rush of need in my channel, the screaming in the bundle of nerves that Cyril's fingers have now found, the rise of pleasure that is so dizzying that it's agony.
In my daze, I free Quinton's cock and take its velvety hardness into my mouth. I suck hard and Quinton throws his head back with a roar.
