“Race,” she whimpered, her body trembling as she strained to hang onto the bar.I can’t hold on…I can’t.
Let go.
Ash dropped her hands from the rod, and her weight sank onto his cock as she grasped him around his neck, her mouth fastening on his. She kissed him with an equal savageness he fucking loved as he thrust up into her.
His balls tightened and release barreled down his spine?—
He roared, emptying his searing cum into her, pulse after relentless pulse.
“Mine,” he ground out, voice feral, forehead resting against hers.
Her answering breath was ragged, equally fierce. “Always yours.”
He growled, still pumping into her.
She laughed breathlessly, trying to hold on. “Bloody hell, you are wild, sexy, and—ah!—truly insatiable.”
Insatiable didn’t even begin to touch it. Gradually, a strain of sanity returned. Only just. “Okay?” he rasped.
She huffed and nodded.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “No bedding…”
A memory surfaced through his feverish haze. Attor…something about a box. His gaze locked onto the huge chest against the back wall. “Hold on tight, vixen.”
The fever didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not with her delicious cunt still clenching his cock, wringing more from him, dragging his rut deeper into madness. Scales flowed across his chest, his arms—maybe his jaw—he didn’t know, his dragon was half-loosed, demanding more.
He needed the godsdamned bedding now.
Like a cat, Ash clung to Race with all her limbs, his cock still buried deep, and they weren’t even knotted.
“Much easier if you put me down, my feral dragon.”
He growled, the sound low and rough. “No.”
“Testy, aren’t you? Fine, then.” She shut her eyes as he stalked the cave with her wrapped around him, his dragon strength unrelenting as he snarled, tossing things with one hand. Then, quiet.
She cracked one eye open when he stopped and lowered them onto a pile of furs.
Her fingers brushed over the softness, and she blinked. “How the hell?—?”
“Attor.” His rough voice scraped like gravel over her skin, and she shivered as his cock stirred again inside her.
“It’s just the beginning, vixen?—”
He pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, then tugged her hips up before plunging back into her. She gasped, her face pressing into the furs, the fullness of him stretching her all over again. Then the feral bastard pushed her knees together, locking her around him, the sheer draggy tightness wringing her to madness. He retreated and surged back into her…
Outside, the wind picked up, dimming the daylight streaming through the cave’s mouth. Inside, there was nothing but the slap of skin on skin and Race’s raw, feral grunts, her rough gasps answering him—her dragon clearly lost to the rut-fire raging through his blood.
Thunder cracked overhead, echoing through the cave as Ash stirred to a dull morning the following day, rain splattering outside. She lay against Race’s chest, his burning skin a stark contrast to the storm-cooled air.
Her storm had followed them from Gildershard, undoubtedly drawn to the primal energy she radiated.
She sat up and reached for the waterskin, gulping deeply. As she set it down, Race’s growl ripped through the cave.
“I’m right here, you feral dragon?—”
Aaandshe was pulled flat under him again, his eyes midnight dark and edged with crimson, scales rippling down his chest. Apparently, his rut fever hadn’t eased. If anything, it burned hotter.
