He traced lazy, decadent circles of cream around her nipples.
“Rhavor… that’s cold,” she shivered, her toes curling into the sheets.
“Shh,” he murmured, lowering his head.
His tongue was broad and slightly rough—draconic—and he lapped up the cream in long, deliberate strokes. He sucked gently, drawing her nipple into his mouth, feeling it harden against the texture of his tongue. The sweetness of the cream was nothing compared to the taste of her.
Sylvie moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He could feel her pulse racing—a frantic, lovely rhythm. He licked every trace clean until her breasts were flushed and dark from his mouth. Then he trailed the bag lower, circling her belly button with a dollop of cream.
“Gods, you taste better than any dessert,” he rumbled against her skin, his breath hot.
She laughed breathlessly, her head tossing back. “Flatterer.”
His tail caught the waistband of her briefs. He let it slowly drag the lace over her hips, revealing the neat thatch of curls. He then flung her panties aside without looking.
He parted her legs—thighs thick and soft—and hooked them over his broad shoulders. Her folds were already slick and swollen, weeping for him.
“Finally where I belong,” he growled.
He squeezed the piping bag, a line of cream landing along her slit, melting instantly against her heat. She shivered, her eyes hooded and desperate.
“Rhavor, you’re insane.”
“Only for you, my little berry.”
He dove in. His tongue was flat and heavy, licking from her entrance up to her clit in one slow, rhythmic drag. The cream mixed with her own arousal—vanilla, salt, and pure, unadulterated Sylvie. He lapped deeper, probing her folds until she bucked against his mouth.
He devoured her, the ridges on his tongue catching her sensitive spots and building the tension until she was sobbing his name. Her walls fluttered, tightening—and then she shattered.
Climax ripped through her with a cry. Her thighs clamped around his head, her juices flooding his mouth. Rhavor drank her down, a low growl vibrating through his chest as his own need throbbed painfully.
He positioned himself between her legs. The tip of his cock nudged her entrance, slick and ridged, heavy with his own draconic weight.
“I need you, my little berry. Are you ready for me?”
She looked up at him, eyes dark.
“Yes. Fuck. Please.”
Take it slow,he reminded himself.Don’t break her.
He pushed in inch by inch. She was so tight, so perfect. The ridges of his shaft caught deliciously against her walls, stretching her around his girth. The heat of her enveloped him—velvet and fire.
“You are such a good girl, taking me in like that.”
He sank in, pausing when she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes… perfect.” She smiled, her eyes wide and dazed.
He groaned, sinking the rest of the way until he was buried to the hilt. The fullness was exquisite. Her pussy clenched around him, and he nearly lost it.
“Fuck… you feel perfect. So full of me.”
He tried to hold his thrusts to a shallow, gentle rhythm, but his hips were already pumping harder, faster—driven by the mating bond screaming in his blood.
The bed creaked, his balls slapping against her ass with each heavy plunge. She met him eagerly, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. Sweat slicked their skin and the air filled with the scent of smoke and vanilla.
