CHAPTER 13 #2
"I hate that I'm here. That I came looking for you. That I can't seem to let you go."
"I know." His forehead rests against mine. "I know, Adelaide. And it's okay. All of it is okay."
"It's not okay." Tears are streaming down my face again. "Nothing about this is okay."
"No," he agrees. "It's not. But we're here anyway."
I don't know who moves first. Maybe both of us. But suddenly we're kissing, desperate and furious, tasting blood and salt and rage. His hands are in my hair, on my back, pulling me closer. My hands are on his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my palms, feeling the wounds I gave him bleed.
"I hate you," I gasp against his mouth.
"I know," he breathes back, and kisses me deeper.
We're tearing at clothes, his and mine, desperate and clumsy. The ruins around us provide no shelter, no privacy, but I don't care. I need this. Need him. Need to feel something other than this endless, aching rage.
His hands are everywhere, reverent and possessive at once. He pulls me into his lap and I wrap my legs around his hips. I can feel him, hard and ready against my thigh.
"Adelaide." My name is a question and a plea. "Are you sure?"
"Shut up." I pull him down into another kiss. "Just—shut up and—"
I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. He groans into my mouth as he grabs my thighs, positioning himself between them. His cock is already hard and leaking. Blue and green scales cover his length along with ridges. I can feel it throbbing against my thigh.
He enters me slowly, so slowly, and he's huge. Bigger than I remember from the dreams the bond gave me during my cursed sleep. I gasp, my body stretching to accommodate him, and he freezes.
"Breathe," he murmurs against my ear. "Just breathe, love. I've got you."
His hand slides between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves, and he circles it gently as he pushes deeper. The pleasure cuts through the discomfort, makes me arch into him.
"That's it," he praises. "You're doing so well. Taking me so perfectly."
"I hate you," I gasp out, but my body is singing.
"Fuck," he groans, pushing harder. "I know." He pushes deeper, and I feel impossibly full. "I know you do."
"Too big," I gasp, my nails digging into his scaled shoulders, trying to find purchase, trying to hurt him. "You're too—it's too much—"
"You can take it," he growls, pushing deeper, inch by inch. The ridges on his cock drag against my inner walls, and I whimper, my body fighting him even as it yields. "That's my good girl. You've taken it for a century. You can take it now."
But it's different. God, it's so different.
I was asleep then. Now I'm awake, and I can feel everything.
Every ridge, every inch, every brutal stretch.
My muscles clench around him, resisting, and he has to work for it, pushing forward, pulling back, pushing deeper.
His blood drips from his stomach onto my stomach, painting my skin red, and I feel savage satisfaction at the sight.
"Look at me," he demands, gripping my jaw with one clawed hand, careful not to cut me even now, forcing me to meet his black eyes. "Look at me while I fuck you. While I claim you. You're awake now. You can see what you do to me."
I lock eyes with him, and I know mine are full of tears and rage and something darker. Something that feels like starvation.
He thrusts forward hard, burying another few inches inside me, and I scream. My body convulses around him, so tight he can barely move. He's only halfway inside me. I can feel it, the impossible fullness, the stretch that borders on pain. I'm already so full I can't breathe.
"Beautiful," he pants, looking down between us. "So fucking beautiful taking my cock. Look, Adelaide. Look at what you do."
I follow his gaze and see it. The bulge in my stomach where his cock is buried inside me. The sight should horrify me. Instead, something feral and possessive surges through my chest.
He presses his clawed hand against the bulge, and I feel the pressure from both sides, inside and out. He groans, his eyes rolling back, and I watch him lose control. I did that. I made him lose control.
I press my own hand against the bulge and squeeze, feeling him move inside me through my skin, and he roars.
"Fuck, Adelaide," he growls, pulling back and slamming into me again, forcing another inch deeper. "You're going to kill me. You're going to fucking kill me."
“Good,” I say more breathy than I mean to. He laughs in response.
The wounds on his side bleed with every movement, blood soaking the ground beneath us, but he doesn't stop.
When he's finally seated fully inside me, we both go still. I look down between us and see it fully now. The bulge in my stomach where he is. Where he's so deep inside me that I can see the shape of him.
"Oh God," I breathe, somewhere between horrified and aroused.
"Too much?" His voice is strained, like he's holding himself back with every ounce of control he has.
I smile. For the first time in over a century, I smile. "No. Not too much."
Something shifts in his expression. The careful control cracks. "Adelaide—"
"Move," I command. "I want to feel it."
He does. He grabs my hips and makes me move up and down on his shaft. Slow, deep thrusts that make me feel every inch of him. His hand goes between us, working that sensitive spot, and the pleasure builds like a wave.
"Such a good girl," he praises, his tail wrapping around my thigh, holding me close to him. "Taking my cock so well. Being so perfect for me, even when you hate me." He kisses below my ear. My jaw. My neck.
"I hate you," I moan, and my walls clench around him.
"I know." His hand wraps around my throat, not squeezing, just holding. A question.
I nod, and he applies gentle pressure. Not enough to truly restrict my breathing, but enough to make me feel owned. The pressure makes everything more intense, makes my body clench around him again.
"Fuck," he groans. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I hold you like this. When I show you exactly how much stronger I am than you."
"Yes." I'm past pretending. Past lying. "Yes, I like it."
He squeezes harder, and I see stars. His thrusts get deeper, harder, and I'm drowning in sensation. His mouth is everywhere. My lips, my face, my neck, my breasts. He releases my throat to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, and I cry out.
"More," I demand. "I want more."
"Greedy little thing." But there's affection in his voice, dark and possessive. "Want me to ruin you? Want me to fuck you so hard you forget everything but me?"
"Yes." I'm shameless. "Yes, please."
He shifts the angle, hitting something inside me that makes me scream. "There it is. That's what you need, isn't it? Need me to take you apart?"
"I hate you," I sob, but I'm pulling him closer, meeting his thrusts as I bounce on his cock.
"I know." His hand is back on my throat. "Hate me all you want. You're still mine. Still taking my cock so perfectly. Still clenching around me like you never want to let go."
It's filthy. It's perfect. It's everything I knew I needed.
I press my hand against the bulge in my stomach again, feeling him move inside me, and he loses control completely. His thrusts become erratic, desperate. His hand tightens on my throat, and I clench around him, my own orgasm building.
"Come for me," he commands. His voice vibrates through me. "Let me feel you."
And I do. I shatter around him, my body convulsing, my vision going white. He follows immediately, spilling inside me with a groan that sounds like my name.
We stay like that for a long moment, tangled together, breathing hard. His hand releases my throat, and he kisses the marks he left there gently.
"I hate you," I whisper, but there's no heat in it now.
"You should." He rubs my back in slow, soothing circles. “You’re perfect. So perfect.”
“I… I don’t know your name.” I’m not sure why this is the moment I realize that. But it is. He looks resolved. Happy.
“Malakar,” He whispers it as he searches my eyes.
“Malakar,” I whisper back, tasting the name on my tongue. “I… I choose to stay. But I will always hate you.” I mean the first part, but the last part no longer holds any heat. We’re still connected, and I feel his cock pulse inside me when I say his name. I lean forward and kiss him.
He pulls back to look at me, and there's something different in his eyes. Something permanent. "The bond. It's locked. Permanently. Do you feel it?"
I do. It's not pulling anymore. It's settled. Complete. Like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"It means you're mine and I'm yours. Forever. In every way that matters." He brushes hair from my face.
Tears spring to my eyes again. "I still hate you." But I'm crying.
"I know." He kisses my tears away. "And I still love you. Both are true. Both will always be true."
I pull him down into another kiss, slower this time. Softer.
"I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt us. Anyone who tries to take us from each other. Do you understand?" His words sound angry but I know it’s not directed at me.
"Yes." There's something fierce in his expression now. Something that matches what I feel inside. "We protect each other. By any means necessary."
"By destroying threats," He clarifies.
"By destroying threats," I agree.
I look at him This monster who cursed me, who stole my life, who I hate and love in equal measure. This dragon who gave me his true name, who let me stab him, who just made love to me in the ruins of his castle like I was the only thing that mattered.
"This isn't forgiveness," I say. "I'm not forgiving you for what you did."
"I know." He kisses my forehead. "I'm not asking for forgiveness."
"And I'm still going to hate you sometimes."
"As you should." He’s kissing my neck now and sucking on the skin in a way that will leave bruises.
"But I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you.” My words are coming out breathless. “Knowing exactly what you are. What we are together."
"I know." His smile is sad and beautiful and real. "And I'm choosing you. Every day. For as long as you'll have me." He starts thrusting up into me again. Brutal and hard. His claws pierce the skin on my hips in a delicious way.
I throw my head back as I think about the prince, about the tower, about the century I lost. I think about the bond that pulled me here, about the fire that came from my mouth, about the way I feel complete for the first time since I woke from that cursed sleep.
His thrusts come faster and more animalistic. This isn’t about showing how much we love each other. It’s about showing how much we need each other. How we both choose each other and will continue to choose each other again and again.
He bounces me so hard against him that I feel his cock deep inside my body, rearranging my intestines. I come with a scream and his name on my lips.
Love didn't save us. Choice did.
The monster, slain by the princess he tried to keep.
Justice, at last.