CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lukendevener
My cock drives forward, demanding it’s waited long enough. I thrust deep into Skye’s sweet depths, her heat and wetness driving me wild.
“So sweet, so fucking sweet and tight for me.”
Her taste coats my tongue, and her scent fills my nose.
I bend over, taking her mouth again in a hot kiss.
When I straighten, I lift her other leg until she’s splayed wide and tipped backward on the table, her elbows holding her up.
Her glorious breasts bounce with every thrust, a maddening movement that makes me long to bite them, to leave them marked with my teeth.
Mine.
She’s more beautiful than I ever imagined, my little witch, her spicy sweetness a taste I can never get enough of.
“Skye,” I groan, my cock buried inside her. “Tell me you’re going to come again, my pretty girl.”
She moans, her candy-pink lips forming an O, her forget-me-not eyes hazed with pleasure.
My balls tighten, eager to spill, but I grit my teeth and hold on. Not yet. Not until she comes all over my cock at least once. Maybe twice, if I can get this human body to cooperate and hold off its release.
“Pretty girl.” I grind forward, staying deep so that I can rub against her sensitive nub. Then I remember the words she liked so well. “Pretty little baby girl, drench my cock in your sweetness.”
“Luke,” she gasps, then keens high in her throat, her body shaking, fluttering around me.
It’s the most exquisite feeling of my entire life.
I’ll have it again.
After getting her to wrap her legs around my waist, I scoop Skye up and lower her to the thick rug in the middle of the living room.
I arrange us on our sides, facing each other.
Picking up her hand, I bring it to my mouth and suck on her fingers, wetting them with my tongue. Then I slide it down between us.
“You’re going to touch your clit for me. You’re going to stroke and tease and do whatever you like best, and you don’t get to stop until you come.”
“I can’t,” she gasps. “Two times is already twice as many as normal.”
“You’re mine now, Skye,” I growl and plunge into her. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to need to write a whole new definition of normal.”
I continue to thrust, pulling her upper thigh high on my side to really open her up. Then I bring my thumb to my mouth, the one that’s already been in her sweet core, and wet it thoroughly. Reaching around, I drag it down her crack to find her puckered hole.
“Oh!” Her eyes go wide and startled, and her hand stills, but she doesn’t shy away.
“Keep touching yourself,” I growl.
Her hand starts moving.
“That’s my pretty baby girl. Make that pussy all sweet for me again.”
My thumb presses into her, filling her ass, and she moans, low and deep and needy.
“You like this, don’t you? Like having all of your holes filled. My spicy little girl. I should have known what all that cinnamon candy meant.”
We rock together, and my thumb can feel my cock moving inside of her core. This is perfect. I want her to like having her ass filled. Unlike dragons, humans don’t have two vaginas, so it’s the only way she’ll ever be able to take both of my cocks.
Her hand flutters, the movement growing more frantic as her muscles clamp down on me.
I groan, my balls pulling tight, ready to release.
“Come for me now.” I plunge deep, making her gasp. “Come all over my cock, my pretty baby girl. Coat me with your sweetness.”
Her scream echoes off the ceiling, her muscles clamping so tightly around me my eyes roll back in my head.
My hips snap forward, fast and hard, our bodies slapping together as lightning sizzles down my spine and pours from my cock in a blaze of pleasure greater than any I’ve ever known.
I roar, the sound joining hers, our voices combining into a chorus of desire.
My hips keep pressing forward, so by the time we still, I’m still buried inside her sweet heat. I slide my hand free to cup her buttock, squeezing her to me.
She shifts to press little kisses to my chest, and I bend to capture her mouth with mine. I kiss her slow and deep, my tongue rolling across hers in a move that’s pure possession.
When we break apart, she’s panting, her eyes soft and glazed with desire again. Fuck, I love that look.
“Luke, I—” Then her expression alters, and she smiles, growing more confident yet also more distant. “That was one damn fine rescue, Mr. Firefighter, sir.”
The book character takes over. “Happy to be of service, ma’am.” I grip the base of the condom and pull out of her before sliding it off and tying the end closed as if I’ve done it a million times.
I’ve never even touched one of the things before today.
Fae aren’t susceptible to any diseases and are so much less fertile than humans that the thought of preventing pregnancy is unheard of.
My grandmother did an extensive study five-hundred years ago and discovered that sex without knotting results in less than one percent pregnancies in fae.
She went so far to theorize that this is exactly why all fae knot, even the ones not animal shifters.
Still being moved around by the plot of the book, I dispose of the condom, and we straighten our clothes to be more comfortable before curling up together on the couch.
“It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone this much,” the book’s character says through my mouth.
“A handsome guy like you? I don’t believe it.”
“I had a bit of a rough time at work a couple of years ago. Lost a good buddy of mine to a fire.” I stare into the distance as if reliving a memory.
“It changed things for me. Everything up until then with women was casual for me, but I couldn’t do casual any more.
I haven’t been with anyone since.” I brush her hair back from her face. “Until you, Skye.”
“Oh, Luke.” Tears sheen her eyes.
“Don’t break this old man’s heart, baby girl.”
“I won’t!” She throws her arm around me.
The book’s male character takes comfort in this sharing, but my mind spins in shock.
I’ve had dalliances over the centuries with other dragons and never experienced anything like this.
How in the world is he able to say all of this to a woman he just met?
Why would he allow himself to be this open, this… vulnerable?
Is this normal for humans? Is this what Skye expects?
It wasn’t only the book characters who were physically intimate just now.
Skye and I also had sex for the first time.
Am I supposed to tell her my most painful secrets?
Years of rejection well within me, a deep and abiding pain. The thought of admitting it to someone…
No, I cannot.
I’m still questioning everything as the gold sparkles of her magic descend upon us, carrying us back to the reading room of my library and depositing us on top of the main table. My wings are trapped uncomfortably beneath me, and several books dig into my hip and shoulder and thigh.
“I’m sorry.” Skye scurries off me, almost falling from the tabletop in her haste to get away. “So very sorry.”
My hand snaps out and grips her elbow, steadying her. “It’s all right.”
“But we had sex!” Her voice squeaks on the final word.
“We did.” I nod and slide from the table, letting my wings settle more comfortably on my back. “I have questions.” I settle in a chair, reach for parchment and quill, and start with queries designed to establish the basic parameters of human sexuality.
“Does the man always take charge in human sexual relations?”
“Lots of the time but not always.”
My tail lashes as I grunt. How vague and unhelpful. “What determines it?”
“I guess… what the couple likes? The um… the power dynamic between them.”
I give a sharp nod. A much better answer. “And the duration? How long is a typical session?”
“Um… shorter?” Her voice rises as if it’s a question. “Usually shorter.”
Interesting. Dragons are well known for our stamina, so this is clearly another area where we’re far superior.
After a few more questions, I get to the one I really want to ask.
I need to word my query so as not to influence her answers.
It won’t work to ask if humans always end their encounters with emotional vulnerability, because that will predispose her to discuss the issue in a way she might not have otherwise noticed.
I decide to work up to it by starting with a broad question.
“Is that what human sexual relations are always like?”
“That was, um… that was pretty normal. Though better. And there isn’t always…
butt stuff.” The last two words are the faintest of whispers, her cheeks flaring pink.
She bites at her lip, her hands fluttering over her rumpled clothes, which are, interestingly, the skirt and top she wore to dinner instead of the outfit she had on when we were snatched from the library for the dance lesson.
My brow furrows, my mind racing down a new, easier path, eager to leave the more painful one behind. What other items created within the book might be brought back into the real world? Her magic is even more powerful than I previously expected to create such permanent transformations.
I record my observations, making sure to be meticulous. Eventually, I look up to ask Skye if she wore the pink underwear all day or if it was another of the book’s creations.
She’s not here. I’m uncertain as to how much time passed as I worked, but it can’t have been that long—I’ve got barely two pages of notes on her clothing change.
I didn’t even get to the most pressing matter.
What fuels the human desire to confess vulnerabilities after sex?
My wings rustle, tapping against the back of the chair they’re draped over, and my tail lashes from side to side.
They freeze in place. Is this what made her run—seeing me with horns, wings, and tail? Did seeing me in my weredragon form make her realize she just slept with someone more beastly than human?
“Skye!” I bellow and stride after her.
“Wait! What about me?” Princess Buttercup darts out from under some wisteria and comes to a stop directly in front of me.
“That was horrible. There were chicken smells and funny noises and all kinds of interesting things, and I missed all of it, because Skye locked me in a bedroom! I got so bored, I fell asleep.”
“Skye didn’t do that. The book character did.” I try to step around the familiar. “This isn’t about you right now.”
“Yes, it is! Everything I just said is completely about me.” She darts right back into my path, swiping at my pants leg with her paw. “Didn’t you hear? I’m bored, and I don’t have chicken!”
She blocks another sidestep, so I use my flying magic to lift into the air, leaping over her to land in the hallway.
Yet I’m too late. There’s no sign of Skye.
I stalk along, following her scent trail, which leads me up the stairs and to her door.
I knock and get no response, then test the handle, only to find it locked.
I could batter down this door or burn it to ash to get to her, but what good would any of that do? It would only convince her I’m a beast.
It would only make her run harder.