Page 36 of Dragon's Captive

He unveils me like something treasured, each revealed inch receiving worshipful attention. His mouth follows his hands, trailing fire along my throat, across my collarbone, between my breasts. When his tongue—hotter than human, slightly rougher—circles one nipple, I arch upward with a gasp entirely unlike my previous reluctant responses.

"Sensitive," he observes, voice rumbling with pleased satisfaction. "Even more so now, with the twins developing inside you. Your body preparing for them."

The reminder of my pregnancy should extinguish the flames building within me. Instead, it somehow intensifies them—the knowledge that he's changed me, marked me, filled me with life that's both his and mine creating a twisted intimacy impossible to deny.

"Does that please you?" he asks, golden eyes tracking my reactions as his mouth continues its devastating journey downmy body. "Knowing your breasts will produce nourishment for our offspring? That your body transforms to sustain our bloodline?"

"Yes," I admit, because denial seems pointless when my physical response is so evident. "Heaven help me, but yes."

His pleased rumble vibrates against my skin as he moves lower, massive hands gently parting my thighs. "Let me taste you," he says, not quite question but not quite command. "Let me worship what nurtures my future."

Before I can formulate a coherent response, his mouth is on me—hot tongue exploring folds already embarrassingly slick with desire. The sensation electrifies me, tearing a cry from my throat that echoes off stone walls. This is unprecedented. In all our previous joinings, even during heat, he's never?—

My thoughts scatter as his tongue finds my clit with perfect accuracy, circling the sensitive bundle with deliberate pressure. One clawed finger slides inside me, curved precisely to find the spot that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

"So responsive," he praises between devastating strokes of his tongue. "So perfect. Taking my touch so beautifully." His words affect me more powerfully than they should—each bit of praise sending fresh heat pooling at my core. "The sweetest omega. So wet for my tongue."

A second finger joins the first, stretching me with careful preparation I've never experienced before. His tongue maintains its relentless attention, pushing me higher, closer to an edge I suddenly desperately want to tumble over.

"Please," I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair, hips rising to meet his mouth without shame. "Kairyx, please?—"

"Tell me what you need," he commands, lifting his head just enough for me to see his golden eyes, pupils contracted to thin slits with arousal. "Say it, Clara."

"Make me come," I plead, pride abandoned to overwhelming need. "Please, I need?—"

He doesn't make me finish. His mouth returns with renewed purpose, tongue flicking rapidly against my clit while his fingers curl inside me with devastating precision. The orgasm crashes through me without warning, tearing a scream from my throat as pleasure obliterates all coherent thought. Waves of sensation roll through me, each cresting higher than the last until I'm certain I'll shatter from the intensity.

As I lie gasping, attempting to reassemble my scattered mind, he rises above me, his massive form blocking the firelight. His expression shows triumph, yes, but also something softer, almost wondering, as he takes in my flushed skin and dazed eyes.

"Magnificent," he murmurs, one hand brushing sweat-dampened hair from my face. "My fierce, perfect omega. Taking pleasure so beautifully."

The praise sends another aftershock rippling through me. Without conscious decision, I reach for him, hands sliding down his scaled chest to where his dual lengths stand ready. They radiate heat against my touch, the ridged surfaces shifting slightly beneath my exploring fingers in a way that should feel alien but instead sends fresh heat gathering between my thighs.

"Show me," I say, echoing his earlier challenge. "Show me how to please you."

His pupils contract to near-invisible slits, his breathing audibly catching at my unexpected request. For a moment I think he'll refuse—assert dominance, take control as always before. Instead, he guides my hand with his own, demonstrating how to stroke both lengths together, where pressure makes his scales darken with pleasure, how to trace the ridges that will soon drag against my inner walls.

"Your mouth," he finally says, voice strained with evident restraint. "Would you?—"

I don't wait for him to complete the request. Driven by curiosity and newfound boldness, I move down his body until I'm level with his arousal. The dual cocks are intimidating up close—larger than human, ridged along their considerable length, radiating heat I can feel against my face. But his quickened breathing as I lean closer, the barely-restrained tension in his powerful body, gives me a heady sense of control I've never experienced with him before.

The first taste is unfamiliar—not unpleasant, but definitely alien, hotter than human skin with a flavor like smoked cinnamon that tingles across my tongue. I explore experimentally, tracing ridges with light touches, discovering which areas make his scales darken and which draw those rumbling growls from deep in his chest.

"Perfect," he praises as I take one head into my mouth, my hand continuing to stroke the other. "So perfect, Clara. Taking me so beautifully."

His words shouldn't affect me so powerfully, but each bit of praise sends another rush of wetness between my thighs. I work him with growing confidence, discovering how much I can accommodate, what movements make his clawed hands grip the sheets to avoid grabbing me. The power I feel is intoxicating—me, making this apex predator struggle for control.

When he finally pulls me away, his eyes have gone fully draconic, pupils so thin they're barely visible in pools of molten gold. "Enough," he growls, voice hardly recognizable. "Need to be inside you. Need to feel you around me."

He guides me onto my back, positioning himself between my thighs with more care than ever before. The twin heads of his cocks press against my entrance, already slick from both his earlier attention and my growing arousal.

"Tell me if anything hurts," he says, surprising me again with consideration I never expected. "Your body is changing with the pregnancy. I don't want to cause harm."

The concern in his voice unlocks something I've kept tightly guarded. I reach up to touch his face, fingers tracing the sharp angle of his jaw with genuine tenderness. "I trust you," I whisper, the admission shocking us both. "I trust you not to hurt me."

His eyes widen, those three simple words clearly striking deeper than any physical touch. Then he moves forward, claiming me in one powerful thrust that leaves me breathless.

The initial penetration still brings that distinctive stretch bordering on pain—his inhuman anatomy impossible by normal human standards—but now accompanied by pleasure I no longer pretend to resent. My body welcomes him with eager readiness, inner muscles stretching to accommodate his dual lengths as if designed specifically for this purpose.

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