Chapter Six #2
Viraj choked in panic, but they had clear signs of refusal: a hand gesture, a word, different things they’d all respect. No act that Gatlin or Teige pushed him into left him helpless or without a clear signal to stop.
Gatlin rucked Viraj’s shirt up, hand cupping and fondling Viraj’s slender belly, lacking in the fierce tone of Stoor alphas. But truth told, Gatlin knew Viraj took to their sculpted frames like cats to silvervine. “You’ll take it and love it, Dette.”
Over the years, they’d occasionally used the moniker as a teasing pet name for him, assurance he was as good to them as any Dette. Their little teasing comment had turned out to be their dragons knowing far better than they did. Ignorance was bliss, after all.
But knowledge?
It was divine.
Gatlin released Viraj’s jaw and cock to brace Viraj’s hips, keeping him from flying forward and choking him on Teige’s cock. Teige didn’t mind, though, and took his own pace, rocking his hips back and forth, bracing a hand on Viraj’s head to keep him locked down.
Something wonderful about Viraj, how being used made him clench tight. And with every movement, his insides trembled. He knew what to expect when they got like that.
Teasing the Drakes, insulting them, and general churlish behavior brought out what made Stoor and Loch Drakes so prone to despicable behavior.
Their dragons delighted in their own dominance.
And they couldn’t stand to lay low when sex grew too heated.
Most of the clan controlled that side of themselves, or stuck to Drakes to keep their urges from harming a Dette.
Their own Dettes were few and far between and were not usually the kind of males willing to relish the behavior, stubborn as anything, viewing the degradation as hate and rejection.
Viraj’s dragon savored it, and took their fervor for what it was, desire.
So, when Gatlin slammed home and fought with his dragon, smoke filled his nostrils as much as Teige’s eyes glowed with his dragon. The beasts may not have been fucking Viraj, but they’d add their own magic, ride their human minds to take in the lust like a drug.
Breed. Fill. Ruin. Gatlin’s dragon snarled as the telltale white heat and lightning at the base of his cock told him his knot was close to filling and cum ready to burst forth.
Gatlin reassured himself by reaching around to fondle Viraj’s cock, the precious thing hard and leaking precum in copious strands.
And it might have been small, but he filled Gatlin’s hand for a squeeze and stroke well enough to receive his pleasure.
He howled at having his cock touched, the organ the perfect size that either of the Drakes could take him balls and all in their mouths.
The thought made Gatlin want to. “Take us both and I’ll give you my mouth until my jaw gives out, Vivi. ”
The threat made Viraj choke over Teige, his throat and shoulders jerking with the effort as drool pooled onto the floor.
And mired in the choke and heave of his forebody was a strained pulse so deep inside him that it forced Gatlin’s knot into full hardness, locking them together as the first volley of cum erupted from his balls—and somewhere deeper inside his very core, from his dragon’s as well.
The intensity of an orgasm that strong and cum that copious made Gatlin stupid.
He did his best to forget the awkward slackened state of his face, the curl of his lip, and wounded cry he made every time it happened.
Waves of pleasure rode the current over him, cock surging, a hose from some hidden reservoir deep inside filling Viraj as Teige hit his peak, thrusting manically, using Viraj as an object.
Teige moved his hand to brush fingers over Viraj’s bobbing throat, swallowing as much as he was forced to take as a familiar scent of brimstone and smoke rose in the air, their dragons so very pleased.
Viraj choked and gulped, splattering cum growing in a puddle tinged with his saliva that grew by the moment. Teige growled. “Oh, fuck yess, Vivi. You swallow us all so well.”
Gatlin knew the coarse words were not only about Teige and himself, but rather Teige, Gatlin, and his dragon, the one whose name sigil meant savage.
And gods alive, it was no hardship to revel in Viraj’s shaking body, still taking every drop of cum that Gatlin had to offer, swallowing more from the other side.
Viraj’s cock erupted, streak after streak of spend hitting his hand and the floor until Gatlin cupped his palm and brought it up beneath their mate to press into the growing swell of his belly.
From the depths within, every kick of Gatlin’s cock increased the pressure, pushed his flesh out, made the surface that much tighter.
And it was then that Gatlin’s dragon forced words from his lips.
“You are ours, Dette. I will breed you until you bear a clutch larger than any other. You will swell with my seed now and again as I demand, and when you finally bear our eggs, they will be the true treasure in our hoard.”
Teige choked out a noise, and Viraj thrashed between them.
Gatlin barely remembered to check for Viraj’s refusal, a knock to the floor, a wave to tell him to stop, but he forced himself to check, and Gatlin was eternally grateful to his dragon to allow that thread of restraint.
He thought it stupid, but even his brute of a dragon understood that an unhappy mate was an unresponsive one.
Cum puddled beneath Viraj and his body spasmed, his struggle ebbing as Teige slid his hips back, maintaining his grip on their mate’s hair.
A drizzle of cum splattered to the floor before he coughed, sending a fresh splatter.
Gatlin’s knot remained firm, still pulsing weak surges against an intense pressure within.
He leaned down and rubbed a hand over Viraj’s full belly, rumbling with delight.
“Spill a drop and I’ll have to pin you down and fill you even more. ”
Viraj gave a hoarse whimper, the sound wet and gurgled in his throat; each cough he spluttered made his insides clench harder.
Gatlin loved it. His dragon revered it. Teige, from the hungry look in his eyes, reveled in it.
So, when Gatlin finally pulled free of Viraj with a gentle ease that did not befit their breeding, another side to their relationship flourished.
The dragons, sated, receded to allow the man his voice.
Viraj held himself up on shaking limbs; his soft cheeks clenched tight.
Gatlin ran a finger down Viraj’s inner thigh, scooping up a trail of leaking seed to bring it to his cinched hole and prodded the finger in, as if he could push it back inside. Wishful thinking. Still, the slick intrusion made Viraj whimper.
“Good boy,” Gatlin rumbled and ran his sticky hands over Viraj’s ass and thighs, up and over his back and to his sides to shake his hips ever so gently.
The jostling made his belly slosh audibly, and he choked, clenching up tight.
He looked too fucking good on his hands and knees, belly full of cum.
Teige caught Gatlin’s gaze with a heated leer.
Their dragons exchanged words.
Soon.
Ours.
Clutch.
Pups.
Bigger.
The gentle swell of Viraj’s belly wasn’t all that obscene, rather like a Dette ready to lay blanks, maybe a few fertile. Still…
A well-stretched Dette can hold more. Gatlin’s dragon rumbled, and if it was true, he wasn’t certain, but Gatlin wanted it to be so.
“Please,” Viraj said, his entire body trembling. Neither could deny him when that soft whimper sent a shiver down their spines. His dragon within mewled.
“Go.” Gatlin almost purred as Viraj clenched and stood on shaking legs, clothes and hair an absolute fucked-out wreck as he shuffled on pinned legs to their private showers.
Teige caught Gatlin’s attention once more, a heated gaze stretching out before they nodded at one another. They’d give him a few minutes. After all…
“Let’s clean up our mess before we go pester him.” Teige stared at the perfect imprint of Viraj’s slick ass left against the new marble.
Gatlin had a desire to leave the print there as art, but propriety was a thing.
Unfortunately.