Page 24 of Rejected By Dragons

Chapter Seven

EMBER

Out of a million "worst moments of my life", somehow this one has to be the worst. I'm spread out on this table, my dress hiked up to my waist, my body shaking from three brain-meltingly good orgasms, a thick cock still pulsing inside of me. My lips must be kiss-swollen, and I'm pretty sure Storm left a mark on my neck when he bit me. If there were a picture in the dictionary next to "wanton slut", it would have to be this.

"Jesus Christ," Storm rumbles in the intruders' direction. I look up at him. Instantly, the love-sick, stricken expression on his face is gone, replaced by a hardness I've only seen a handful of times before.

Inside, I go cold.

"A little privacy, maybe?" he requests.

Voice dripping with disdain, his brother scoffs and steps farther into the room. "Maybe don't fuck in a public place, if privacy's what you're looking for."

King Zephyr snorts out his agreement.

Storm pulls out of me with a wet sound. I shudder uncontrollably, his seed leaking out of my fucked-out pussy. My limbs are jelly, but I struggle to sit up. Storm steps away, not looking at me. Shame rushes through my veins, icy and hot in turns.

"Storm," I try, quiet.

"Shut up."

I try not to visibly recoil, but the pain lancing through my chest is too much. I thought things were bad a few minutes ago, when he basically told me he didn't think I could summon my dragon. When I thought we were saying goodbye on our own terms. I couldn't abandon who I was, and neither could he.

The stone wall he's suddenly erected between us is so, so much worse.

He puts himself away and refastens his pants and belt. There's not much I can do but stand and fluff out the skirt of my dress. My own wetness and the huge load of come Storm just blasted into me soak through my underwear immediately. I can feel the slickness down my leg, and I feel dirty, but not in a good way.

Movement at the entrance of the tent pulls my attention away from my own humiliated state.

"Why is everybody just standing there?" a feminine voice asks. A girl I've never seen before squeezes her way in. She takes one look at me and Storm and blinks owlishly. "Oh."

"Wait outside, Aria," Fury orders.

The pieces click into place. Of course this is Storm and Fury's long-absent sister. The resemblance is undeniable, her hair the same dark shade, her eyes the same striking gray.

"But--" she starts.

"You heard the prince," King Zephyr intones, and I shiver.

I've seen our glorious ruler before, of course, but never so close up. He's an imposing figure, tall and rugged, with dark, thick hair, gone silver at the temples. He has his sons' handsome face, only more chiseled and wizened by the years. His eyes, though, are blue, the pupils slits. His tongue is ever so slightly forked, his dragon never far from the surface. The effect is chilling.

Princess Aria huffs in annoyance, but she obeys, retreating back to the other side of the tent flap.

Prince Fury, on the other hand, strides closer. He sneers at me in absolute disgust. "Honestly, Storm, if I'd have known you were so hard up, I could have hired an actual whore." He wrinkles his nose. "It probably would have been cleaner."

Finally, the tide of hot shame inside of me hits a boiling point, tipping over and into anger. I look to the king. "Your highness--"

King Zephyr booms, "What makes this creature think it has permission to speak?"

Fury circles me. With his back to his father, he whispers, "Now you're really going to get it, worm."

I don't doubt him. Everything inside of me is trembling.

"You can go now," Storm says, dismissing me like so much trash.

"Not so fast." Fury shakes his head as he moves to stand beside their father again. "I think the reject has some explaining to do."

King Zephyr's eyes spark with recognition. "So this is her then? The defective would-be dragon who's brought so much shame to our kingdom."

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