"Please," I whisper, hardly recognizing my own voice.
He pushes the fabric up slowly, exposing me inch by inch. Cool air kisses my heated flesh, drawing out a shiver. His clawed finger traces the seam of my nether lips, gentle despite their deadly appearance.
"So soft," he murmurs, eyes fixed on me with predatory focus. "So delicate."
When he slips a finger inside me, I cry out, arching off the nest. The invasion burns in the most delicious way; my body stretching to accommodate him. "Your anatomy is not so different." His voice drops to a rumble that vibrates through my sternum to liquefy my spine.
"So ripe," he hisses, withdrawing his finger to examine the slick evidence of my arousal. "So ready."
Before I can form a coherent thought, he lifts his finger to his mouth. His forked tongue flicks out, tasting my essence. His eyes close briefly, a shudder running through his powerful frame.
"Sweeter than cave-honey," he growls, and then he's moving, sliding down my body until his broad shoulders push my thighs wider apart.
He positions himself between my legs, pushing my nightgown above my waist. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but all I feel is desperate need. The heat of his breath washes over my center, hot and intoxicating.
"You are beautiful here," he says, his voice thick with desire. "So soft and pink, like the petals of a heartflower."
Then his mouth is on me, and all thought dissolves. His tongue—gods, his tongue—laves through my folds with devastating precision. The forked tip finds my clit, flicking against it in a rhythm that has me writhing beneath him. His lips suckle, and his fangs graze my tender flesh with just enough pressure to send shivers of danger and desire racing through me.
I twist my fingers into his silken hair, gripping tighter as my hips rise to meet his mouth. His tongue—impossibly dexterous, inhumanly precise—flicks against that swollen, aching bud while the pleasure coils deeper in my core, threatening to shatter me. My thighs tremble against his scaled shoulders, my body slick with need as I arch, writhe, surrender to the wet heat of his mouth devouring me like I'm the most exquisite delicacy in his underground realm.
My lips part on his name, a desperate, breathy sound that breaks into a moan as my hips arch helplessly against his devouring mouth. "I can't—I need?—”
"Let go," he commands against my flesh.
The pleasure crests suddenly, violently. My back bows as waves of ecstasy crash through me, radiating outward from my core until even my fingertips tingle with it. I cry out his name, the sound echoing off stone walls as my body convulses around nothing, seeking a deeper fulfillment.
When I finally float back to awareness, he's reared above me, his massive form silhouetted against the heartstone's glow. His scales shimmer with inner fire. Below his midsection, I see them. Twin shafts of a bright crimson, emerging from a concealed slit. His hemipenes, both tapered at the tips but widening to impressive girth along the shaft, stand proudly erect.
Curiosity overcomes shyness. I reach out, fingertips brushing against one heated length. Varok's hand closes over mine immediately, his grip firm but gentle.
"Do not," he warns, voice strained. "If you touch me there, I will lose what little control I have left."
I meet his gaze, defiant despite my inexperience. "Maybe I want you to."
His scales ripple with surprise. "Leira?—"
"I've been afraid for so long," I confess, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "Afraid of the bombing, of the TrueCoil, of this prophecy I never asked for. I'm tired of being afraid. I want to feel something else. Make me feel alive."
Understanding dawns in his golden eyes, followed by something deeper, more tender than I expected. "I might not fit inside you," he warns. "Your sheath is incredibly tight.”
In answer, I raise my hips, a blatant invitation that surprises even me. "There's only one way to find out."
His control fractures like glass, his scales shimmering with liquid fire as a feral growl escapes his throat. He positions himself between my spread thighs; his massive body eclipsing mine. The slick, tapered tip of one hemipenis slides through my folds, gathering my wetness before pressing insistently against my entrance. The other, thick and pulsing, drags along my still-sensitive clit in slow, deliberate circles that make my hips buck involuntarily.
I gasp as he enters me, the tapered tip parting my slick folds with delicious pressure. My inner walls clench and flutter around his invasion, each inch of his crimson length igniting nerve endings I never knew existed. The sweet burn of stretching transforms into molten pleasure that radiates through my core. I clutch his shoulders, my nails scoring paths across scales that ripple like liquid gold beneath my desperate touch, his body's answering shudder vibrating straight into mine.
His breath sears my skin as he growls against my throat, "So tight..." His voice fractures with restraint, scales shimmering with barely contained heat. "If I cause you pain?—"
"I need more," I gasp, my body arching instinctively, drawing him deeper into my slick heat. My fingers dig into his shoulders as I whisper against his ear, "Fill me completely. Make me yours.”
His hand slides beneath my nightgown, the rough scales of his palm grazing my skin as he exposes my breasts to his hungry gaze. His mouth descends, hot and demanding. I feel the dangerous points of his fangs graze my nipple before his forked tongue flicks across it, once, then twice, sending twin jolts of pleasure straight to my core. My body liquefies, a moan tearing from my throat as he suckles harder, drawing the sensitive peak deep into the scorching heat of his mouth while his scaled thumb teases its neglected twin.
He pulls back just enough to drag my nightgown completely off, nostrils flaring as he drinks in my newly exposed flesh. His serpentine eyes lock with mine, pupils blown so wide the gold is merely a burning ring around bottomless black. A forked tongue darts across his lower lip as he drinks me in, the hunger in his gaze a physical touch that sends a fresh rush of wetness where his shaft cleaves my sex.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, his clawed hand spanning my ribcage, making me feel deliciously small beneath him. "So soft everywhere."
He undulates with serpentine grace, each sinuous movement working another inch of him into my resistant flesh. My body struggles to accommodate him, the tight ring of muscle at my entrance stretching around his thickness with exquisite resistance. The initial burn transforms into a delicious ache as he claims me fraction by fraction, never fully seated. His primary shaft pulses against my inner walls, coaxing them to yield, while his secondary length glides against my swollen, aching pearl.
