"Kenji!" she gasped.
Her body arched beneath me.
Groaning, I lapped at the blood and rubbed my cock against her thigh.
She whimpered, “Fuck me.”
“You want this cock?”
“Yes.”
“But your pussy is sore.”
“It’s too late. I’m addicted.”
I groaned.
“Fuck this war with my father. I think I’ll just spend the rest of these years on this island with you.” I slid one hand down.
It drifted lower, past the soft swell of her stomach, through the heat rising from her pussy, until my fingers slid into the slickness waiting for me.
Mmmm.
Every time I touched her there, it felt like dipping my fingers into some forbidden temple.
An erotic shrine carved into flesh.
And at the very top, hidden and trembling, was her clit—small, swollen, perfect. A holy jewel that could undo kingdoms with a single caress.
Her pussy was wet.
My cock jerked in response, demanding to be buried within her, claiming her in the most primal of ways. “Your pussy’s already dripping. Who made you this wet?”
“You, Kenji.”
“Are you sure? It wasn’t my Fangs?”
“No.” Then, she smirked in between pleasure. “I thought they were just your Scales.”
“Careful, Tora. To you they are nothing. Nobodies.” I circled her clit lightly, teasing that lovely nerve center.
“Oh.” Her hips jerked. Her breath fractured.
“Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours. Always yours.”
“Always mine.” I pressed a little harder, flattening my finger against her clit and dragging upward in a slow stroke.
Her thighs tensed.
A moan escaped her throat, helpless, and it fed straight into my cock.
“I saw you noting my Fangs’ names. That was a waste of time because if you call them, and they answer, I will fucking hurt them.” Slowly, I rubbed her clit side to side, watching how her eyes fluttered closed, how her lips parted, how her chest arched up as if her whole body was begging for more.
“Oh, Kenji.”
“No, Tora. Dragon.”
