Chapter 14 Holed up
Holed up
Lawrie
Last night, Ernest made love to me. Not fucking, nope, we were past that now. He gazed into my eyes with almost religious devotion while making me come over and over. And I gobbled it up.
It felt so freaking good. First, the suction on my nipples?
Heaven. I almost came just from that, my chest tingling, hole clenching on nothing.
Then Ernest’s massive cockhead with those ridges massaged the needy tissue deep in my hole, his half-enlarged knot making me feel stuffed like a damned turkey, his huge, freakishly strong muscles all over me…
Surrounded by him, my nipples still buzzing, my hole full to bursting, I got freaking euphoric from the overload of orgasms. And how he said it—his dick kissing my womb—it was like a promise.
A foretelling of an even deeper connection, a profound pleasure.
It should scare me, and on many levels, it still did.
But goddamn, feeling Ernest in me was ecstasy. Life didn’t get better than that.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to be a dragon’s mate.
A dragon. And our kid would be a dragon too. Oh Lord.
In the morning, we stayed in bed and fucked again.
Because apparently, bonding turned us into sex addicts.
I straddled him on the bed, sat on his dick, and he sucked on my nipples while I rode him.
Yet again, I discovered a completely new level of lust. I was mewling, bouncing and twitching, and he had to hold my hips in his iron grip, or I’d quite possibly have shot through the roof and into orbit.
The combination of his mouth on my chest and his dick in me made me come for at least a solid minute.
Not that I had any comprehension of time, but it was definitely the longest freaking climax of my life, and I included my first heat into that statistic.
It could have also been two minutes or five, but I figured longer than that would have probably caused me permanent brain damage.
That dick. Now it truly looked like something a dragon would have, with sharp ridges, protruding veins, and a bulging knot at the base.
My awakening reproductive system adored that thing.
Slick oozed out of me, cum trickled down my erection, my chest throbbed, expelling drops of clear milk, and my sex-drunk brain replayed the fantasy of the fat cockhead popping into my womb and knocking me up.
What had Ernest turned me into? Who was this sensual beast that took over my body?
But I forbade myself to freak out because I had never felt this good. In fact, I’d never even imagined a living, breathing person could feel this good. Full of energy, excited, exhilarated… I was high on life.
My brain blown to smithereens, I slumped in Ernest’s arms, and he rolled us to the side, kissing me.
He pulled out of me but plugged me with his thumb, and I sighed with contentment.
He knew what I craved. For a while, I lay in his arms, clenching on his finger, imagining his cum seeping through the tissue in my hole, soaking me through and through.
Something had clicked in my mind when we’d flown together.
The terrifying, magical creature he’d transformed into didn’t scare me anymore.
It took care of me. The dragon protected me.
When I’d first seen him shift, I’d thought I’d ended up living a nightmare.
Instead, my life had turned into a fairytale.
I kissed him, and he hummed happily, gently fucking me with his thumb.
“I ordered a small plug last night after you fell asleep,” he said.
I arched my eyebrows. “A plug?”
“You said you liked my cum in you. So I thought…” He shrugged. “It’ll get delivered today.”
“I can sleep with it in me?” My cheeks heated with excitement and embarrassment.
“Yes. Or…”
Oh. Oh wow. “You could fuck me, plug me, and we’d go out?”
Ernest’s eyes flashed with heat. “You’d like that?”
I pretended to mull it over.
He leaned closer and nuzzled along my ear. “I can hear your heartbeat, Lawrie,” he murmured. “I can see your pupils widen and smell every little change in your pheromones.”
Fuck. No point pretending I wasn’t a crazy nympho around him. “I want it. I want you to fill me with cum and plug me so I can carry it around everywhere.”
He groaned and rolled on top of me, and we had ourselves round two of sweaty, screaming morning sex.
The best thing was that despite the size and shape of his erection, my ass didn’t get sore. The slick I leaked was so oily and the tissue inside me so eager for friction it felt almost like being in heat. Ernest could probably fuck me for hours, and I’d just keep coming until I fainted.
We finally made it out of the bedroom in time for lunch.
I showered while Ernest sorted some emails and ordered Indian food—I opted for vegetarian too.
Then he took his turn in the bathroom. I started the coffee machine and scrolled on my phone, checking the reply from my HR manager.
Mr. Sullivan kept his word—things seemed to be in order, and I was off the hook until next Monday.
I would be logging in regularly to stay on top of things, but my presence at the office wasn’t required.
I wore the bathrobe Ernest gave me the first night. When he emerged, his muscular legs encased in gray sweatpants, I couldn’t help but stare. That damned bulge.
He accepted the mug of coffee I made him, then tugged on the belt holding my bathrobe.
“Can I?”
Raising my eyebrows, I shrugged one shoulder. What was he up to? We’d just fucked like mad. Twice.
He loosened the knot, and the bathrobe opened, exposing my subtly swollen belly and chest. My nipples hardened under his scrutiny, tingling still—or again.
Ernest ran his fingers up my stomach and over the curve of my left pec.
He cupped it in his palm and squeezed gently, the gesture undeniably possessive.
“I want to look at you,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful, Lawrie.”
The longing in his expression, the gentleness in his eyes… I’d frolic around naked all day long if it made him look at me like that.
Placing the coffee on the kitchen counter, he bent down and closed his lips around my nipple. He pulled only a few times, and I felt some liquid escape. The sweet tendrils of delight spreading through my chest made me sigh. Then he licked the tip and straightened again. He kissed my cheek.
“Thank you.”
The action left me frozen. My body already knew, didn’t it? My body had known from the start, and when we fucked, I felt it to the marrow of my bones. Now my rational brain was slowly catching up.
It was so terrifyingly intimate yet so natural.
While every time he touched my chest before felt sexual, this wasn’t.
It was reassuring, like holding hands or a kiss on the forehead but so much more meaningful.
The small taste of milk he casually took from my body, giving me an instant sense of satisfaction, was the most profound proof of our bond yet.
I would fall in love with this man—it was already happening, fast, inevitable, and achingly beautiful.
The doorbell rang, startling me. I wrapped the bathrobe around me and tied it. Ernest went to open, so I pulled out the plates and water glasses from the cupboards. As soon as the delivery man left, I let the robe hang loose again, exposing myself to my mate’s eyes. He smiled when he noticed.
The food was excellent, and I ate slowly, leisurely tearing the bread into small pieces and dipping it into the creamy sauce. I felt Ernest’s gaze on me when I licked my fingers.
All the sex must have made me very mellow because after lunch, I wanted nothing more than to laze around.
Ernest made us both a second round of coffee in colorful mugs he’d pulled from the highest shelf.
He joined me on the sofa, intertwining our legs.
I reveled in his constant staring. His eyes burned possessively when he appraised my soft cock and belly, drinking his coffee.
I let the robe slide off one shoulder, and Ernest’s lips stretched into a knowing smile.
When he collected the empty coffee mugs and carried them to the sink, I got transfixed by his hands.
He gently cradled the mugs, washing them carefully, his big, rough fingers caressing the ceramic with utmost care.
The handmade pottery didn’t really fit the rest of Ernest’s sleek decor.
He dried them with a kitchen towel and put them back into the cupboard, even angling the handles on the same side.
Something about the action was endearing.
“You don’t put those into the dishwasher?” I asked, intrigued.
Ernest smiled a little sheepishly. “They’re from my dad.”
“Will he get upset if they break or fade?”
“No. He wouldn’t care.”
“Okay.” I intentionally drew the word out, expecting an explanation.
After hanging the towel, Ernest leaned against the kitchen counter. “They were a present he brought from a trip to South America once. He said I needed some chaotic warmth in my overly tidy apartment. I only use them when he visits.”
And now he’d taken them out for us.
“Thank you,” I said.
Ernest scratched his neck. Was that a blush?
“Anyway.” He stretched his arms above his head, his majestic torso rippling. “Are you thirsty? Dessert?”
“I’m good. You?”
“I’m fine.”
“Come here, then.”
He crossed the room and lowered himself back onto the sofa.
This time, he sat next to me and pulled me into his arms. We cuddled in silence, and I thought about his dad, his four brothers, and what kind of people they were.
I would probably meet them one day, wouldn’t I?
Ernest was obviously close to his family.