I won’t deny him.
But the beach… Did he feel what I did?
“I wanted you to touch me, human,” he says.
I inhale sharply.
“I had never seen so much courage. You with your weak spear, standing up to me—an alpha dragon—when I could destroy you so easily. Could destroy this whole coast with nothing but a whim.”
Reaching up, I cup his head and lick my lips. He’s everything I ever wanted and more.
He’s given me a gift I didn’t know I wanted—or needed.
My heart constricts. It squeezes in a way that sends more than warmth rushing through me. More emotion than I’ve let myself feel since before I can remember. I blink back tears.
I wasn’t going to cry for him. I don’t know now. It’s suddenly hard to breathe.
“Do you understand, Aida?” he asks before letting me pull his lips toward mine.
“Yes,” I choke. “Kiss me, Zaeyr, before you make me mad again!” I beg, pressing my lips to his.
15
Submission
Aida rubs her lips on mine, taking the last of my control away. I set her back down on the sand and slam my body over hers as she gives me her softness, her submission.
My draconid instincts shout in triumph. But then her tongue dabs out and forces its way into my mouth. Following her strangely enticing human ways, I push my own against hers. Her mewls fill my mouth, and I feast on them, liking this kissing a little too much.
Now that I know why she ran, my frenzy easies, my worries for her safety coming to an end now that she is under me.
Touching Delina? The thought makes me recoil. Aida’s sister was not the one who stood up to me on the beach, nor cared for me through the night, nor pulled me to safety during the storm.
Even so, if Aida did not exist, I still would not take Delina to mount. She smelled of another. And her childish human wiles—so easy to see through—were deeply unpleasant.
Aida moans. Her lips caressing mine, obliterates all other thoughts.
My painfully tight shaft, bulges with seed, some of it leaking from my cock’s tip. I cannot hold it in any longer. Thoughts of getting it inside her and penetrating her deep, tight sheath consume me.
But as my tongue plunders her sweet mouth, I taste something unusual, something not of her upon her lips. Another? I do not know.
Savagery pummels me. Growling into her, I replace the taste with my own, gnawing, biting, nibbling, licking, until it is obliterated and gone. No taste but hers will I hunger for! No taste but my own should ever reach her lips.
When the wrong taste is gone, rising over her, I lift and carry her to the crystalline ocean.
She whines and rubs herself against me. When we are in the turquoise waters that are like a home to me, I dip her body in and soak her with my old territory, knowing she will rule beside me, despite my new form.
“Zaeyr?” she gasps my name, drenched, her eyes searching me curiously. Trickles of water sluice down her curves. My mouth begs me to follow them with my tongue.
“Mine,” I rasp. It is all I can say.
Spinning her around, I rip her skirts up and expose her pink human sex. Like a flower, I note, dipping my fingers into her. Like a delicate flower made for one thing only.
My stem. My thick stem to stab it, ruin it, control it.
Take care of it—for all the years to come.
She shrieks my name when I find her nub and pinch it between my fingers. Essense pools from her deep, where another one of my fingers explores and stretches her. Her arousal hits my nostrils like lightning. My gaze zeroes in.
Her tiny sheath flutters tight around my finger. I like seeing it deep inside her. I like the noises she makes when I play and pump it, touching her everywhere inside.
Grabbing her wet hair, I jerk her head to the side, all the while stroking her still. “Ready?” I rasp.
If she says no, I do not know what I will do. I am pent up. The comet’s aura quickens and sizzles my blood. It takes an immense effort to maintain my control when all I want to do is lose myself in rutting her.
I am afraid I will take her even if she says no.
She nods, swallows. My gaze follows her throat.
Unable to wait any longer, I push her forward onto her hands and knees in the shallow water, lining my prick