Page 66 of Henrikk’s Secret

Henrikk trapped him in place with his arms, kissing his shoulder softly. “Good morning. Ready for a new day?”

Asher grunted, which could have meant either 'yes' or 'no'.

His mind wandered as he fucked Asher until the general stroked himself and came, shooting his cum over the edge of the deck. Henrikk was far from done, and as he fucked Asher at a steady, unhurried pace until he finally came. The sun was well and truly up now.

Henrikk stayed embedded in Asher’s ass. He grew philosophical and a little introspective, wondering...

Is this truly a paradise, if it contains someone like me?

Leaving nothing to chance, he sank into Asher one last time, bottoming out so they both grunted from the impact before going still.

The next morning they walked along the beach together, bodies slick from bathing.

Asher stopped to stare at the horizon, and Henrikk halted as well.

“Wondering what’s out there?” Henrikk queried, slinking his arms around him and following his gaze.

“Just curious,” Asher shrugged.

“Well, I still there are more dragons out there, although I can’t say I’m fond of the prospect of dealing with another. And, if we find magic, there might be a way to send you back.” It pained him to suggest that last part, but he ignored the uncomfortable squeeze of his heart. Asher never admitted it out loud, but a part of him wanted to return to their world, if such a thing were possible.

“Doubtful,” Asher said, but he couldn’t hide the hopeful gleam of his eyes. “But hypothetically…”

“Hypothetically, of course.”

Asher turned to face him. “Would you return to Wintermaw with me?”

“No. We can’t have two Henrikk’s terrorising the world, can we? One is bad enough.”

“Hopefully, he’s not terrorising anyone.”

“One can only hope,” Henrikk said, feigning an optimism he did not feel. Even without the dragon’s magic, what chance was there that the Vampire King Henrikk would change his ways? Surrounded by corrupt, conniving courtiers without Asher’s moral compass to guide him, the odds were unfavourable. “Let’s take it one step at a time. We could start by building a boat.”

Asher nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“One that’s actually seaworthy. Not like that sex platform of yours—”

“Stop calling it that.”

The sun was growing hot, and they turned away and walked back to camp, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. They laughed as they debated the merits of Asher’s raft—the splintered wreckage of which had eventually drifted ashore.

Had they lingered for a minute longer, they would have seen a spectacular sight: several large, winged creatures careening gracefully through the air, their white scales sparkling in the sun.

THE END.

[Continue reading for the epilogue…]

Epilogue

King Henrikk

Back in Wintermaw Keep…

Dargotika the black dragon was dead.

She had died at Asher’s hands, dispatched with a blade whose significance no one understood, her body sunk to the bottom of an unknown ocean.

King Henrikk was unaware of the murder of the centuries-old dragon. He sat on the throne of Wintermaw Keep, trying not to let his mind dwell on Asher, or the heartache burning a hole in his chest. He had no way to know that Dargotika had died.