69. Chapter Sixty-Nine
Once I’m positive Kyrielle is satisfied — primarily because she announced it after two more orgasms — I fly us back to the Weyr. I’m greeted with resounding applause and congratulations.
I’d been afraid that people would blame me or be furious at my choice.
It’s no small thing, challenging a Cairanin, especially against a parent.
Unfortunately, the price of this welcoming attitude came at the cost of being fairly informed as to why.
Dragon culture can be annoyingly blunt with words, so it’s also a surprise that no one asks for details.
Everyone has known for years that my father took my eye, so for a lot of them, that’s a fair enough reason.
Kyrielle stays by my side, smiling politely and saying hello when necessary. I refuse to let her out of my sight. Fynn and Orliana stay nearby, so she can meet others. The Weyr reunion wasn’t exactly conducive to making more personable connections.
To Orliana’s dismay, Moxie hangs out on my shoulder, pretending she wants to stab everything with her little golden horn. When people try to hug me, it’s like the ugopeg knows how much I loathe hugs and flits after them like a hornet. Most people laugh it off; I’m relieved for the buffer.
Finally, after a few hours of touching and talking, I’m overstimulated and drag Kyrielle away, leaving Moxie with Orliana. It’s time to go home.
But first: Oasha.
Once I’m in full Dragon form, I’m re-energized, making the flight easy. Fynn flies close behind, also eager to show Orliana the magic of Oasha. With its hot sands, the thermals can be a dream for fliers. Their oases are luxurious and you can rent private ones for a day trip or vacation.
It’s mid-afternoon, but we’re on schedule for our plans.
The air shifting from biting cold to the welcoming caress of heat is luxurious.
We head for the main oasis, Palmir. Carved into what used to be a massive stone formation, it consists of smooth arches, open ceilings with glass domes, palm trees and desert brush, and undulating rivers of teal water.
It’s enormous, the size of a modest town.
Red sand fills the spots between the outer mini oases, where sand wyrms slither against the dunes to transport goods and people.
Landing on a large, curated lawn in Palmir, Fynn and I head into the main lobby area, reserving an oasis not too far from here. It has three bungalows, which means Talia is bunking with Joulian, but she’s fine with that.
Since everyone is in a celebratory mood, we decide to have a mini shopping spree for Oasha fashion. It mostly consists of thin fabrics, sheer coverage, and more skin revealed than Gondoran weather would tolerate.
I cannot wait to see Kyrielle in her dress.
Shopping bags in hand, I lead her to the bungalow’s front door. It’s made of smooth, pale stone carved in rock, with open windows and a clear dome for a ceiling. Thin, gauzy curtains flutter in the slight breeze.
When we step inside, we’re greeted with a small waterfall in the center that fills a deep, blue pool.
The marmoris dances along the stone. Through the domed ceiling, stars are beginning to appear.
We’ll be able to fall asleep admiring the constellations; something I’m strangely excited for.
Gondora has so many clouds that clear skies are hard to come by.
Lounge pillows and couches rest by the smooth, carved windows with complementary ornate beige and red carpets in the walkways. A doorless alcove leads to a large bed with dune-colored sheets and blankets.
It’s cozy, even with the sky above us.
“This is so pretty!” Kyrielle squeals, clapping her hands together. I grin, handing her the bags full of her choices.
“Let’s go wash up, Firefly.”
When we head into the bedroom in search of a bathroom, we’re surprised to find a door leading to an outside shower.
“Oh!” Kyrielle grins. “I’ve never showered outside.”
“Me, either,” I admit. “Let’s try it out.”
We’re both naked within thirty seconds. The shower area features black stones, carved poles of wood as a privacy barrier, and copious amounts of ferns everywhere. Turning on the shower, I find towels nearby. Setting them onto hooks, I ask Kyrielle, “Would you like the Scalp Special?”
Ever since that first time I bathed her, she practically begs for scalp massages when we shower together, which we do fairly often now.
Her head bobs excitedly. “Yes!”
Kyrielle’s exuberance warms my insides. Grabbing a nearby chair, I set it right outside the stream of water.
After we both wet our hair, I sit on the chair and she straddles my thighs so we’re chest to chest. I set about lathering her tangerine hair.
Her body turns limp when I take my time to massage her temples, leaning against my chest. Which makes it infinitely harder to continue washing her hair, but after today’s events, she deserves to relax.
When it’s my turn, she gives me a lascivious grin. I cup each ass cheek in a palm, trying extremely hard not to knead the soft, delicious flesh.
She wiggles so much — probably on purpose — that her pussy brushes against what was the flaccid base of my cock. Now, it’s far more interested in what’s going on, poking the cleft of her ass cheeks.
I’m forced to duck my head so she can reach the top and cover my blue strands with enough shampoo. Kyrielle runs her fingers through my hair slowly, watching my face with a soft expression. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”
After giving her a soft kiss, I smile. “Yes. But you can do it again at any point.”
She pauses, those flame-filled eyes scanning my face. “Are you still okay with your choice?”
“I don’t think I’ve fully processed what I’ve done,” I admit. “In that moment, I was filled with vindication. But … Things aren’t as different as I thought I would. For better or for worse.”
That’s probably the most frustrating aspect of it all. I think a part of me hoped that suddenly, all of this guilt, shame, and anger would be vaporized when he died, like he’d whisk it away like luggage.
Searching inside myself, I say, “There’s a new sense of peace and freedom. I don’t have to worry about him appearing anywhere ever again.” Emotion burns in my throat as I remember everything he said. “He tried to apologize in the air.”
Kyrielle gives me a sympathetic look. “How did that feel?”
“I didn’t feel,” I murmur. “Because there was no apology that could ever compensate for what he had done. It felt hollow, and it was probably driven by selfish desires rather than wanting to actually make anything better for me.”
Busying her hands, Kyrielle braids my hair. “Well, I think you delivered a magnificent death. It was breathtaking, all the things you did.”
Working past the lump growing in my throat, I rasp, “I thought of you the whole time.”
She wriggles again, and this time, it’s definitely intended to drive me crazy. “You know what I want?”
Leaning forward, I nip her lip with a fang. “A fourth orgasm?”
To my surprise, she hops off my lap, leaving me to sit in a chair with my dick sticking straight up, watching her trot away to a shelf by the sink. Her orange fingers fidget with the bottles until she goes, “Ah ha!”
She scurried back, dripping water all over the floor. Handing me the bottle, she beams. “This!”
I read the label. “This is oil.” I look up. “Do you want a massage?”
Suddenly shy, she looks down with a sweet smile. “Not exactly …”
My brain works through possibilities, landing on the most logical one. I glance at my throbbing dick. “Pretty girl, this won’t fit comfortably.”
Kyrielle climbs into my lap, laughing. “Not that.” She points between my legs to my tail. “That.”
I set the oil down on the ground, grinning. “Kyrielle, are you about to have another one of my firsts?”
Her whole face lights up. “Really?!”
“Yes, Firefly.” I say in a droll tone, “No one has said, ‘Oh, Trinte, please stick your tail up my ass.’”
“Their loss,” she says simply. “So, is that a yes?”
My hands are already roving her body, lifting her chest higher so I can suck on a pert breast. She giggles, then moans as I lightly press a fang into her nipple. Her hands wrap around the back of my head, anchoring herself as my hand curves over an ass check to lightly tease her pussy lips.
“I want you to cum a couple of times before we do this,” I say between kisses.
“I’m fine if—”
“No exceptions,” I growl, spanking her ass cheek. She giggles.
Kyrielle rocks her hips forward, brushing her entrance against my tip, driving us both wild. A breeze moves between us, sparking my imagination.
“Hold on tight,” I murmur against her neck. She intertwines her fingers in my hair, trailing her tongue along the column of my throat.
Bringing fingers to her clit, I use a little elemental magyck to force air over it lightly.
Kyrielle’s goes rigid. “What the fuck is that?”
“Magyck,” I nibble on her ear.
“I fucking love magyck,” she gasps, hips increasing their desperate pace.
Keeping two fingers teasing her growing wetness, I tease her clit and allow her to control all the movements. Within a minute, she’s bucking and whimpering, skin flushed from her first required orgasm.
“Again,” she demands, not slowing the pace.
This time, I sink my fingers into Kyrielle’s soaked pussy.
Her head rocks back, wet tangerine tresses spattering water everywhere.
Her eyes are closed, allowing me to drink my fill of her beautiful body.
The pale, freckled skin. The touches of orange in her eyelashes.
Flexing muscles that can both destroy and caress.
When her mouth parts in a gasp, I have the urge to kiss it. To lick it. To fuck it.
“Kiss me, pretty girl,” I rasp, consumed with everything that makes her, her.
Her heavy-lidded eyes open, and she consumes me with pillowy soft lips that demand as much as they give.
Her body tightens around my fingers, and I increase the pressure of the air incrementally.
When she inhales sharply, I know it’s at the perfect level.
Within another thirty seconds, she’s unraveling and feral. Just like I need her to be.
Cutting off the magyck, I give her a couple of minutes to catch her breath. When she’s not panting as hard, I reach down and grab the oil. Holding it in one hand, I tap one of her delicious ass cheeks affectionately.
“Time to mount this ride, pretty girl.”
With languid movements, eyes still half-lidded, she obeys, lifting her hips until she’s pointed right over my very painfully throbbing cock. I let out an animalistic moan as she sinks onto me like a perfect-fitting glove.
“Goddess,” she moans. “I’ll never tire of this.”
“Let’s make it even better,” I murmur, kissing her cheek.
Lifting my tail so it presses against the cleft of her ass, I pour oil onto the tip, then pump it to spread the slickness evenly.
When I was an adolescent, of course I’d tried to make myself cum by hand fucking my tail.
There’s sensation in it, but not enough for that purpose.
However, I suspect this will be different.
After slowly rubbing oil over her tight hole, working her into a frenzy, I guide the tip of my tail to press against it with gentle pressure. “Are you sure you want to try this, Firefly?”
She looks at me with wide, trusting eyes. “We can at least try it.”
Closing my eyes to better focus on my other senses, I home in on the sensation of pressing and sliding into her body elsewhere. Immediately, her body clenches. It feels divine, but not what we need.
“Firefly, relax. Breathe.”
Her gasps are ragged already. She’s trying to wriggle it inside, but I refuse to let her enthusiasm cause an injury. “Pretty girl, focus on me.”
“But I want it,” she moans, sounding so deliciously wanton.
“I know, but these spike nubs are going to hurt you if we aren’t careful. Breathe with me, okay?”
She nods. Bringing her hand to my chest, I say, “Inhale.” My chest expands; she matches the pace. I sink deeper. “Exhale.” When she does, we pause so she can adjust. “Again.”
After a few repetitions, I’m as deep as I dare for this first time.
Releasing my tail so it can support itself, I place my hands on her hips.
Her eyes are full of desperation. Between my fingers, her body trembles with restraint.
I have no doubt that if permitted, she’d go wild — and cause an injury.
Giving her a stern look, I say, “Go slow, Kyrielle.”
When she lowers, we both let out guttural, deep moans. I’ve never involved my tail in sex, and while I’m glad she’s the first, I’m also stunned that years have been wasted without experiencing this. She needs to like this because I definitely need this again.
“There you go,” I coax her in a low voice. “Nice and slow.”
“Trinte,” she whimpers, pressing our foreheads together. “It feels so good.”
“I know baby; I’m right there with you. You feel like all twelve Heavens at once.”
She hums in agreement, inhalations coming in quick now. Her pace increases with each bounce; the friction is maddening. Knowing how much she likes it, I bring a hand to her clit and activate the air.
Within five seconds, she’s cumming. I nearly laugh in shock, but the way her body clenches around my cock and tail … I’m less than fifteen seconds behind. Fuck. That’s a little embarrassing.
Kyrielle stares at me, wide-eyed and face flushed. “That was … intense.” She huffs out a laugh. “Apparently, for both of us.”
Bringing a hand to my tail, I slowly pull it out, watching her expression for any signs of discomfort. “So, that was good?”
Her orange and yellow eyes bulge. “Good? I want that all the time.”
“Fantastic,” I whisper, bringing my hands to her cheeks as I press a kiss to her lips. “Because I do, too.” I look at the still-steaming shower, then up to the stars twinkling above. “We need to get ready. We’re going to run late.”
Kyrielle sighs dramatically, then sadly dismounts. Hopping under the stream of water, we both use soap one more time before rushing through getting dressed.
Consistent with Oasha fashion, my shirt’s made of dark blue linen, with my tan pants are equally breathable. I braid my hair down my back and put on a pair of tan loafers.
Kyrielle’s a dream, in pale blue chiffon layers, loosely draped from her neck and peeling apart at her waist to show off her muscular thighs. Her creamsicle hair is in soft waves, with those perfect pouty lips touched with gloss. On her feet are laced up white leather sandals.
I groan when I see her, rubbing a hand over my face. “Baby girl, this was a mistake. Turn around and change.”
My regret is immediate when she looks down, insecure. “What? You don’t like it?”
Rushing over to gather her in my arms, I quickly say, “No, no. You look incredible. So incredible that I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist fucking you in the sand dunes.”
She huffs out a laugh of relief. “Oh, okay. Well, we can definitely do that later.”
Kissing the top of her head, I say, “Let’s go. We’re already a little late.”
With a stunning Fire Sprite on my arm, we head out for the candlelit dinner under the stars.