Chapter 55 Theron
THERON
Gods, I’m so tense I feel like a bowstring pulled to the point of snapping.
Elowen is hovering over me, her beautiful body bathed in the torchlight of this ancient chamber, her blue eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperate need that mirrors the war inside my own soul.
I want her. I want her more than I have ever wanted anything in my whole fucking life. My blood is on fire and inside my Drake is roaring that I need to claim her, to bury his shaft to the hilt in her sweet, untouched heat and make her ours forever.
This is exactly what I feared might happen if I helped her with the curse this whole last week, and yet here I am in the situation I have been trying so desperately to avoid.
Fuck…this isn’t going to be easy.
My Drake’s shaft is massive—thick with ridges of silver scale and glistening with its own magical precum.
It is a part of me, yet it feels alien in this moment—a weapon too brutal for the delicate, curvy priestess in my lap.
I can feel my other half roaring in frustration, pushing against the boundaries of my mind.
“Mate. Bond. Claim her NOW!”
We can’t, I tell him, the internal struggle making my muscles tremble. This is as close as we get. We’re only doing this for Elowen—to help her, not to claim her or Bond with her.
At least Elowen seems completely unaware of my internal conflict. She lowers herself slowly, a breathless gasp escaping her lips as her hot, wet pussy makes contact with the broad, scaled head of my Drake’s cock.
The sensation is intense—a jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure that arcs up my spine. Her slick folds part against me, and I can feel the incredible heat of her core. She is so soft…so impossibly soft against the hard, unyielding surface of my Drake’s shaft.
“Oh, Theron…” she moans, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her head falling back as she rubs herself against me. “Oh, that feels so good!”
“That’s it, baby,” I growl, my voice rough with the strain of holding perfectly still. And not thrusting up into her soft, wet heat. My hands find her hips. “Just like that. Rub that sweet little pussy against me. Get yourself nice and wet and open for me.”
She obeys, rocking her hips in a slow, sensual grind. The friction is exquisite torture. I can feel her swollen clit dragging over my Drake’s thick head…can hear the wet, slick sounds as his precum coats her, mixing with her own honey.
The air fills with the scent of her arousal and the spicy, ozone-like tang of Drake magic. It’s the most erotic perfume imaginable, and I’m afraid it’s clouding my reason.
Elowen makes a soft little sound of pure need, and her movements become more urgent, her moans climbing higher.
Fuck, I love to watch her rub against me! She’s chasing her pleasure—using me to stoke the fire the witch’s curse has lit within her. Every rock of her hips, every breathy little cry, is a test of my control.
I want to thrust up. Gods, I want to seize her hips and drive up into that tight, welcoming heat and lose myself completely. My own need and my Drake’s desire is a pounding drumbeat in my veins—a pressure building in my balls that is nearing agony.
But no—I won’t betray her like that. She trusts me enough to be vulnerable and open—I won’t give her any reason to fear.
I lock every muscle in my body, becoming a statue beneath her. The only movement is the frantic pulse of my Drake’s cock and the tremble in my hands where they grip her.
Then, for one heart-stopping moment, she stills, settling her weight fully.
The broad head of my Drake’s cock presses insistently right against the mouth of her pussy, and I feel her inner muscles flutter, trying to draw me in.
The resistance gives way—just a fraction—and the very tip of the broad head slips inside her entrance.
“Fuuuuck!” I groan.
The feeling is more than intense. Wet, velvet heat sheathes the very crown of the huge silver cock, and a roar builds in my chest.
My Drake roars with triumph.
“Yes! Now!” he demands. And I almost give in.
But the look on Elowen’s lovely face—the shock, the slight wince—stops me. She’s not ready for this.
“Easy, baby,” I murmur, my voice coming out strangled. With monumental effort, I take her by the waist and lift her gently, breaking that devastating, perfect contact.
A whimper of protest tears from her throat.
“Theron, please! I need…”
“I know what you need. Let me Shift back now and I’ll give it to you,” I tell her.
I’m already concentrating—pulling my Drake’s essence back, feeling the scales recede, the formidable girth reshape itself into my familiar, though still considerable, form.
My curvy little priestess is panting, her body trembling with unmet need.
“All right but hurry—please! I need you in me,” she begs.
Her plea makes me even harder.
“Don’t worry, baby,” I promise, smoothing my hands up her sides. “I’m going to fill you up right now.”
The Shift completes and the cock between my legs is once more mine—thick and achingly hard, it’s dripping with both our juices. I guide her back down, my eyes locked on hers.
“Slowly, sweetheart. You set the pace. Only take what you can.”
“Yes, Theron,” she whispers. Then, with a look of pure need on her pretty face, she braces her hands on my shoulders and begins to sink onto me.
Gods. Her pussy is a fucking revelation—tight beyond belief with a silky heat that welcomes me inch by excruciating inch. She is so wet—the path eased by my Drake’s magic and our mutual desire—but she’s still small, and I’m not.
As badly as I want to be inside her, I want to take this slowly. Don’t’ want to hurt or scare her. I watch her face carefully and am relieved to see her expression of slight discomfort melting into dazed pleasure as her body stretches to accommodate me.
At last I bottom out inside her. When she’s fully seated—taking me to the hilt—we both go utterly still.
Fuck, she feels incredible around me. I can only hope she’s getting the same kind of pleasure—that she’s getting her needs met.
“All right, baby?” I ask her, looking into her eyes. “Not too much?”
“It’s almost too much,” she admits, and I feel her inner walls flutter around me, a rhythmic, unconscious caress that threatens to shatter my control then and there.
My balls are drawn up tight, already aching with the demand to release. Heat pools at the base of my spine and the urge to pump into her—to flood her with my seed—is compounded by my Drake’s aching desire to do the same thing.
But I know I can’t fucking do that—I can’t.
If I come inside her, her beautiful blue eyes, currently hazy with pleasure as she looks down at me, will change to green forever. Even if we didn’t fully Bond, it would be a claiming—a permanent tie between us. It’s everything my Drake wants and everything the deep, possessive part of me wants.
But it’s not what Elowen agreed to. It is not why we are here. We’re here to sate the curse, not to chain her to me for life.
So I clench my jaw and hold myself in a state of suspended agony.
I enjoy the feel of her incredible heat, the perfect fit, the way her body holds mine like it was made for me. I let my hands roam over her curves, memorizing the swell of her hips…the dip of her waist. I palm her heavy breasts, teasing the nipples with my thumbs and whisper praise.
“Fuck, you feel so good around me, Elowen. So fucking perfect—you’re taking me so beautifully.”
She blushes and smiles but beneath the worship is a desperate, grinding battle. Every clench of her pussy is a plea I must deny. Every rock of her hips pushes me closer to the edge I have sworn not to cross.
I don’t fucking know how long I can hold out.
The need is a living thing—clawing its way up my throat. To fight it, i focus on her pleasure—on the building tension in her sweet, curvy body by using her cries, her shudders, and her moans as a lifeline to keep myself from coming.
It’s the sweetest fucking torment I have ever known—I just hope I can hold out.