Page 17 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw
While I’m not a virgin by any means, I’ve been long accustomed to the egotistical, cold, and methodical attitude of Nilsanian men, as well as their tendency to be exceptionally self-satisfying lovers. Lowell’s clumsy, yet unbridled lust is unlike all previous experiences, before. The way he can make me melt into the floor with only a single touch is both shameful and terrifying.
Hooking a thumb through my waistband, Lowell yanks my pants past my knees. At the sight, he raises a fleshy brow, tapping my plain black panties with a claw.
“No lingerie? I’m hurt,” he chuckles under his breath, bringing the undergarments down with a gentle tug. I’m grateful he doesn’t tear them in half, but I’m surprised he doesn’t purely by accident.
The sudden presence of air cools the liquid heat trickling down the inside of my legs, my thighs locking together in reaction now that I’m fully exposed. My forehead wrinkles as my chest heaves, every inch of skin aching for his touch.
The state of my arousal is painfully obvious, and my cheeks warm from embarrassment. Every joint and muscle stiffens, a dash of panic tasting like copper in my mouth.
Noticing the change, Lowell nudges me with his snout with a huff. “Relax a little, huh?” he gently coaxes, raking his claws along the side of my thigh. Goosebumps break out over my skin and I shudder, turning my head to bump my nose into his scales. Lowell smiles against my skin, patting my thighs again.
“Open.”
Squeezing my legs together tightly while my eyes drift to the ceiling, I desperately try to regain my composure. To shake me out of the idea of handing over all control to this monster.
Startling me out of my trance, Lowell snorts. “Look at me.”
I don’t.
With an aggravated sigh, Lowell grinds his hips into my thigh. A gasp draws from my lips at the pressure of his erection, snapping my attention between his legs. A massive protrusion strains against the fabric, a wet spot near the tip putting his desire on full display.
I breathe shakily when our eyes meet. His pupils are pooled and glassy, a color so dark I can see a bit of my reflection. My hair is mussed and my face is flushed a deep pink, lips parted and coated in saliva. I look like a mess.
Lowell presses a claw into my thigh, nearly breaking skin. I wince, vocalizing the pain.
“Open,” he demands. The rumbling timbre of his voice rattles the plates left on the table with a high-pitched chime.
Electricity zips down my spine, skin tingling with heat. Before I can formulate any words of protest, my legs spread willingly.
He chuckles smugly. “Wow. Didn’t take you long to submit. I’m a little disappointed.”
I open my mouth to argue, but no words form. I can’t even pretendI don’t want his touch, even if a chilling layer of terror remains. As a reply, I scowl at him, but that only makes him smile brighter.
With his hand hovering over my pelvis, he watches my face intently. With tender pressure, he presses his ring and middle finger to the top of my opening.
I suck air through my teeth, startled by the unique sensation of the rough pads of his fingertips against the delicate skin. Slowly, he drags the two fingers through my folds until they reach the top with a slick, wet noise.
I stifle a moan, but I’m betrayed by my vibrating hips, desperate for deeper contact.
Lowell blows a low whistle, pushing his thumb to my clit while his middle finger dips shallowly inside of me. “Damn, you liked having your head in my mouth that much?” he taunts, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.
Goddess, he’s so damn arrogant.
“Fuck you,” I manage in a whimper.
The glare I wear on my face dissolves when he presses harder on the tender nerves. The air is sucked from my lungs in a whine, my hips bucking into his hand.
Lowell rips my pants off entirely with a hungry look. “You could onlydreamof fucking me. Your little cunt wouldn’t be able to take my cock. I’d split you in half,” he laughs. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Lowell slides his finger inside, up to the first knuckle, not waiting for my reply. I bite down on my lip, holding in a moan. His fingers are slender, yet large. Textured by rough scales and sharp claws, but not enough to hurt. Clenching around him, his single digit fills me nearly to the brim.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll make sure your last orgasm is the best you’ve ever had,” Lowell growls, pulling away from my aching pussy. Iinadvertently grunt in a form of protest, gasping with horror when I realize how loud it is.
Pausing, Lowell leers at me through half-lidded eyes, burning me to cinders. He hums in acknowledgment, as though I had said something only he could understand.
Lowell lifts me off the floor by my waist, setting me down on my bottom on the edge of the dining table. He tugs at my ankles until my ass hangs off the side, the jarring movements making me desperate to plant my hands behind me to keep balance.
Slowly, he sinks to his knees, pushing my legs open further on the way down. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he murmurs, looking up at me from the ground.
