“Darun…” she breathes, and that sound from her lips is enough to make my cock twitch.
She notices.
I can feel her eyes on me, the flush rising up her throat, and I growl low in my chest. “You sure?” I ask, barely holding back the growl clawing up my throat.
“Don’t make me ask twice,” she says, voice shaking but sure.
I grip her hips, claws careful not to break skin. She straddles me, her pussy already soaked as she grinds slowly against my scales. My cock, thick and ridged, aches with need.
I press my forehead to hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she whispers. “You couldn’t.”
My hands slide beneath her shirt, peeling it away. Her breasts spill into my palms and I groan, tongue darting out to trace the soft skin before sucking a nipple into my mouth. She gasps, arching into me, fingers clawing at my shoulders.
“Fuck, Darun,” she moans. “I want you inside me.”
That nearly undoes me.
I roll us over gently, my weight braced so I don’t crush her. I slide her pants down, kiss my way over every freckle on her thighs, every scar she’s earned. Her pussy glistens, swollen and aching for me.
“Beautiful,” I rumble.
“Then stop staring and fuck me,” she snaps, and gods, I love her fire.
I lower my head and lick a slow stripe up her slit. She jerks, cries out, fists tightening in my hair. I lap at her pussy, tongue thick and rough, savoring every whimper she makes. I curl a finger into her, then another, stretching her as her legs shake around my shoulders.
When I finally rise over her, my cock resting at her entrance, we’re both trembling.
She nods, wrapping her legs around my waist. “Please.”
I push in—slow, careful, my cock stretching her open inch by inch. Her gasp is guttural, and I still halfway through.
“Too much?”
“No,” she hisses. “More.”
I slide in the rest of the way, buried to the hilt. Her pussy is tight, wet, pulsing around me. We hold still, breathing each other in, hearts pounding like war drums.
Then I move.
Slow at first. Deep. Her moans rise with every thrust, her body arching to meet me. I brace her hips, angle deeper, and she cries out.
“Right there—gods—don’t stop.”
I don’t. I fuck her like I was made for this. Made for her. My scales rasp against her skin but she clings tighter, lips at my throat, murmuring my name like a prayer.
When I feel her tighten, trembling under me, I thrust harder.
She breaks.
Her orgasm hits with a cry, her pussy gripping me like a fist. I growl, losing rhythm, cock throbbing as I cum inside her, heat flooding her as my roar echoes through the shrine.
We collapse together, breathless.
I cradle her against my chest.
The shrine hums softly around us, glowing with the ache of gods long dead. I don’t feel alone.
