Page 37 of Dragon's Captive

"Mine," he growls as he fills me completely, the declaration no longer threat but promise, acknowledgment of connection transcending simple possession.

"Yes," I agree, surprising myself with how naturally the admission comes. For tonight at least, in this moment, with his body joined to mine and his essence nurturing the children growing within me, I am undeniably his.

He moves with exquisite precision, each thrust targeting spots inside me that make coherent thought impossible. My legs wrap around his waist, drawing him deeper as my hips rise to meet each powerful drive. My hands explore his body with newfound freedom, discovering how the scales along his spine darken and shift in response to my touch, how certain patterns elicit rumbling purrs of pleasure that vibrate through both our bodies.

"Look at you," he praises, voice roughened with pleasure and something deeper. "Taking both my cocks so perfectly. Such a good girl for your alpha."

His praise affects me more powerfully than it should, each word sending another rush of heat through me, inner muscles clenching around him in response that draws a pleased growl from his chest.

"You tighten so beautifully when I praise you," he observes, adjusting his angle to hit that spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. "Do you enjoy hearing how perfect you are? How beautifully you take me? How no omega before you has ever felt so right around me?"

"Yes," I admit, beyond pretense now. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."

The joining isn't gentle—Kairyx remains an alpha dragon, with all the power and dominance that entails—but it's mutual in ways previous couplings never were. When his pace increases, I match it. When his hands guide my hips for deeper penetration, I arch eagerly into the adjustment. When his mouth claims mine again, I return the kiss with equal hunger.

The dual sensations of his twin lengths filling me completely, their ridged surfaces dragging against spots inside that make rational thought impossible, build pressure coiling tight at the base of my spine. Waves of pleasure crash through me, each more intense than the last, until I'm clinging to him not from fear but from desperate need for anchor against the tide threatening to sweep me away.

"Come for me," he commands, voice dropping to that register that bypasses conscious thought and connects directly to something primal within me. "Let me feel you surrender, Clara. Not to me—with me."

The distinction shatters something inside me. My release hits with devastating force, inner muscles rhythmically clenchingaround his invasive lengths as pleasure obliterates conscious thought. I cry out his name—not his title, not "Commander," but "Kairyx"—the sound torn from somewhere beyond thought or calculation.

When his knots begin to swell, stretching my entrance past comfort into that space where pain and pleasure become indistinguishable, I don't simply endure the lock but actively embrace it. My inner muscles clench deliberately around the swelling bases, milking the response I now seek rather than merely accepting what biology demands.

"Clara," he groans, my name barely recognizable as his control fractures. Small flames escape his mouth with each exhalation, evidence of draconic passion pushed beyond limits.

His release floods me with scorching heat, burning seed filling me in pulsing waves that trigger another unexpected orgasm, this one softer but somehow deeper, radiating outward from my core until even my fingertips tingle with sensation. The satisfaction isn't one-sided as before, but mutual—shared pleasure transcending the biological imperative that first brought us together.

In the aftermath, as we remain joined by biology, his wings partially unfurl to wrap around my smaller form, creating a cocoon of scaled warmth that feels increasingly like belonging. His heartbeat beneath my ear maintains the slightly slower rhythm of draconic physiology, yet has become as familiar to me as my own.

Neither of us speaks. Words seem inadequate to define what's happening between us—what's already happened, what continues to evolve with each passing day. The silence isn't uncomfortable but contemplative, filled with unspoken understanding that transcends language.

My hand rests against my abdomen, sensing changes still invisible to the eye but undeniably present. The twins growinginside me, once the ultimate evidence of captivity, now represent something far more complicated—a bridge between worlds, between species, between the woman I was and the person I'm becoming.

Kairyx's hand covers mine, clawed fingers gentle against my skin. The protective gesture contains possession, yes, but also connection that extends beyond mere ownership. Wordless acknowledgment of shared investment in what began as forced claiming but has transformed into partnership neither of us anticipated.

The realization should terrify me. Instead, as his wings tighten slightly around us both, I find myself surrendering to the warmth, to the protection, to the belonging I've denied myself for so long. Not because biology demands it, not because captivity allows no alternative, but because something deeper, more fundamental, has shifted between us.

The heart of the dragon, it seems, is not so different from my own.

CHAPTER 16

UNWELCOME VISITOR

The thingabout fragile peace is that it shatters with spectacular efficiency. One moment you're foolishly believing you've found equilibrium in captivity, the next you're reminded the universe has an infinite capacity for cruel irony.

I should have known better. Really. Ten years of resistance work taught me that comfort is always the prelude to catastrophe.

It begins with a commotion I feel before I hear—a subtle shift in Drake's Peak's atmosphere, the fortress's usual rhythms disrupted by something I can't immediately name. The library, where I've been cataloging pre-Conquest scientific texts, suddenly fills with the unmistakable tension that precedes disaster. The air pressure changes. The quality of light alters. Even the mountain itself seems to hold its breath.

I set aside a treatise on agricultural adaptations post-climate crisis, my skin prickling with the instinctive wariness that kept me alive during a decade of hiding. Something's wrong. Something's coming.

Elara appears in the doorway, her usually composed features tight with an emotion I can't quite identify. "The Commander requests your presence in your chambers immediately," shesays, voice carefully neutral but eyes communicating urgency I've never seen from her before.

"What's happening?" I ask, already rising from my desk, one protective hand moving unconsciously to my belly where the twins grow, now visibly rounding my abdomen at fifteen weeks.

She hesitates, glancing over her shoulder as if to check who might be listening. "Commander Vorthrax has arrived. Unannounced." The name means nothing to me, but her tone makes it clear this isn't a social call. "You need to prepare to be presented formally this evening."

"Presented? As what, exactly?" The irritation in my voice masks the unease crawling up my spine.

---