“All right, you asked for it.”
He gave me one of his half-smiles that made my heart flutter. Then, never breaking eye contact, he stood and unfastened his trousers. He pushed them down his lean hips, along with his smallclothes, and let them pool at his feet.
I caught my breath at what I saw.
Ryse was right—he was different.
His shaft was nothing like the skinny members I’d seen between the legs of the other cadets at bathing time. It was thick and long, rising proudly from between his muscular thighs. But at the base, where skin should have been, there were scales instead. They started about halfway down the shaft, small and delicate at first, like iridescent chainmail, and grew larger and more pronounced as they reached the root.
They were the colors of his other scales and of his dragon—deep, royal purple shimmering with veins of molten gold that caught the faint light in the room. And like the scales on his face, they weren’t rough or hard-looking—instead, they had a soft, pearlescent sheen.
The flaring head of his shaft was a smooth, dusky violet, and already a clear, glistening bead of moisture had gathered at the slit.
“Oh,” I breathed, leaning forward without thinking. “Ryse… it’s beautiful.”
A low, pleased rumble came from his chest.
“Never been called beautiful before. You really think so?”
“I know so.” I reached out a hand, hovering just above him. “May I?”
“Please do,” he said, his deep voice slightly hoarse.
My fingertips touched him first, tracing the seam where soft skin gave way to scaled splendor. The scales were warm, and surprisingly smooth—softer than I’d imagined—like polished sea glass.
They yielded slightly under my touch and Ryse made a low sound in his throat when I wrapped my hand around him, marveling at the heat…the solid weight…the unique texture.
When I stroked him up and down, a soft groan escaped him, and his hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk.
“Did I hurt you?” I looked up at him anxiously.
He shook his head.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his hands fisting at his sides as if to keep from touching me. “Just…your soft little hand feels really good around me.”
“I’m glad,” I said, shyly. I loved the feeling of power I got from holding him—knowing that I could give him pleasure the way he’d given me pleasure the night before.
I stroked him slowly, learning his shape, feeling the ridges of the scales under my palm. That glistening bead at the tip caught my eye again. Acting on an impulse I didn’t fully understand but didn’t want to fight, I leaned in and flicked my tongue over it.
The taste exploded on my tongue—salty, but with a dark, sweet undertone, like honey and spice. I moaned softly in surprised pleasure. He was delicious.
Ryse’s big body thrummed with tension.
“Gods, Auri,” he choked out. “Your sweet little tongue is so hot! How…how does it taste?”
“Delicious,” I murmured, licking my lips. I looked up at him. “You taste salty and sweet, all at once.”
He cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin.
“There’s more where that came from, little one. But you don’t have to taste me if you don’t want to. This is for you. Your curiosity. We can go at your pace.”
“But I do want to taste you,” I said, the certainty settling deep in my bones. I wanted to chase that taste, to know him more intimately. “I want to…to suck you,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks go hot with a blush.
His golden eyes were half-lidded as he looked down at me. He was still standing and I was sitting on the edge of the bed—he was at the perfect height for me to taste him…to suck him.
“If you want to, I won’t stop you,” he rumbled. “Take your time—do whatever you want. I’m yours, little one.”
I liked the idea of taking my time with him and I wanted to make him groan again.
