Page 24 of Davoren
I writhed against the chains, chasing the phantom sensation of his touch, my body screaming for release that had been so cruelly snatched away. The frustration was a living thing, clawing at my insides, making me pull uselessly against restraints that held me perfectly displayed for his pleasure.
"Please," I begged, not caring how desperate I sounded. Pride had been burned away by need, leaving only the aching emptiness where his fingers had been. "Please, Daddy, I need—"
"Patience, little one." His voice carried amusement and that dark satisfaction I could feel thrumming through the bond. He moved back to the table of implements with deliberate slowness, letting me watch as he considered his options. "We're just beginning. Your body has so much more to teach you about need."
My eyes tracked his movements as he selected one of the implements I'd noticed earlier. This close, I could see it was carved from crystal—the surface impossibly smooth, with an inner fire that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. It was shaped with deliberate purpose, curved to hit specific spots, thick enough to be intimidating but not impossible.
"This," he said, holding it up so I could see it properly, "is carved from crystallized dragon flame. It holds heat, responds to arousal, and knows exactly how to find the spots that will make you scream." He moved closer, and I could feel warmth radiating from the toy. "And unlike fingers, it never gets tired."
He traced it along my inner thigh first, letting me feel its temperature—warm but not burning, present in a way that mademy mark pulse with recognition. The surface was slick with the same oil he'd used before, and when he finally pressed it against my entrance, I gasped at the sensation.
"So wet," he murmured, working the toy inside me with slow, deliberate movements. "Your body welcomes this so eagerly. See how you open for me?"
The crystal seemed to know exactly where to press, finding spots inside me that made my vision blur. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through me that the golden lines on my skin amplified and reflected. The second edge built faster than the first, my body already primed and desperate. Within moments I was gasping, pulling against the chains, my hips moving desperately to meet each thrust of the toy.
"Look at you," Davoren said, his free hand coming up to stroke my hair again, that tender gesture that contrasted so perfectly with what he was doing to me. "So beautiful like this, lost in pleasure, chasing your release. You're close again, aren't you?"
I was. The pressure built with impossible speed, the crystal seeming to pulse with its own rhythm that matched my heartbeat. My thighs trembled, my breath coming in desperate gasps, every muscle tensing as I approached that edge—
He pulled the toy away.
The second denial was worse than the first. I actually screamed, pulling so hard against the chains that they flared brighter, adjusting their grip to keep me from hurting myself. Tears gathered in my eyes from pure frustration, my body clenching around nothing, searching for stimulation that wasn't there.
"No, no, no, please, I can't—"
"You can," he said firmly, setting the crystal aside with careful precision. "And you will. One more edge, little one. One more lesson in patience."
I was sobbing now, tears streaming down my face, my body a live wire of need. When he dropped to his knees in front of me, I almost didn't understand what was happening. Then his hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wider, and his mouth—
The first touch of his tongue made me scream again, but this time from pleasure so intense it obliterated thought. His mouth was impossibly hot, his tongue carrying that same dragon fire that marked his blood. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt—wet heat and pressure and a rhythm that seemed designed specifically to drive me insane.
He worked with the same methodical precision he'd brought to everything else, but there was something different about this. Through the bond, I could feel his own arousal spiking, his control beginning to fray at the edges. He wanted this—wanted to taste me, to feel me come apart against his mouth. But his determination to teach me patience held firm.
His tongue found my clit with devastating accuracy, circling and pressing in patterns that had me pulling desperately against the chains. One of his hands moved up to press against my lower stomach, holding me in place as his mouth worked its magic. The pressure built faster than before, my body recognizing this might be my last chance, desperate to tip over before he could deny me again.
I was babbling now, words pouring out without thought. "Please, Daddy, please let me come, I'll be good, I'll be so good, I need it, please, please, please—"
He hummed against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my core, and for a moment I thought he would let me fall. I was right there, right on that perfect edge, one more second would do it—
He pulled away completely.
The third denial broke something in me. I went limp in the chains, sobbing openly, every thought driven from my headexcept need. I was nothing but sensation now, nothing but aching emptiness and desperate want. The golden lines on my skin blazed like threaded suns, and through the bond I felt Davoren's satisfaction at my complete surrender.
"There we are," he said softly, standing with that liquid grace. "Now you understand. Your pleasure is mine to give or withhold. Your release happens at my command, not your body's demand."
I could only hang there, trembling, tears still streaming down my face, my body one raw nerve of need. Through blurred vision, I watched as he stepped back and finally, finally began to disrobe.
Each button he undid seemed to take an eternity. His shirt fell away first, revealing a chest carved from copper and shadow, muscles that belonged on temple statues rather than living flesh. The golden marks that matched mine traced patterns across his skin, glowing with their own inner fire. His pants followed, and when he was finally naked before me, my breath caught in my throat.
His cock was impossible.
Not just the size—though it was intimidatingly large, thick enough that I wondered how it would ever fit—but the way it seemed touched by his dragon nature. The skin had a subtle scaling pattern that caught the light, and the head literally glistened with golden precum that sparked and sizzled where drops hit the floor. Tiny flames danced along the length, not burning but present, dragon fire made manifest in the most intimate way possible.
I'd never wanted anything more in my life.
"Please," I whispered, the word barely audible.
His smile was pure predator as he moved toward me. "Now, little one. Now you get your reward."
