Page 19 of Dragon's Desire

"Fucking hell, you're soaking wet."

And she was. She very much was. She hated herself for it.

And he was hard, so very hard. And long, and thick, and at that moment, she wanted nothing else in the world more than she wanted to feel him inside her. It seemed like all his cockiness wasn't just compensation. He had a beautiful cock. She even felt her mouth water. He had no idea what he was doing to her, but she almost didn't care. Almost.

He grinned, and she realized he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

She hated herself for being a wet, sopping mess for a man like Peter. Her self-loathing was amplified because she didn't even offer token resistance when he spun her around. He bent her over the railing, almost folding her in half. Below she could see the rave goers spinning glow sticks and dancing wildly. Some were in shifted forms. And some were half a step removed from doing precisely what she and Peter were about to.

She felt the head of his cock slide down along her ass, and she shivered involuntarily. For a second, she thought he might actually try to fuck her ass. And then, for another second, she thought she wanted him to. It was something she hadn't done before, and from the size of him, it seemed like a poor decision to try here without a lot of lube. But she'd be lying to herself if she said she'd try to stop him if he did.

Instead, his cock slid into the slick folds of her pussy. And it felt even better than she could have dreamed as he slipped inside her so easily that there was no resistance. She didn't even know if he'd gone to the hilt or not. But he felt huge, in the best possible way, as though there was no part of her left unfilled by him.

And then he pulled back, and for a horrifying second, she actually thought he might pull out completely. But just before he did, he slammed back into her.

She'd heard about getting railed. Rough sex had never been something she thought she'd be all that interested in, but as he pounded into her, she still ended up crying out for him to go harder. Even though she thought there was no possibility of him hearing it over the music.

She'd never been fucked like this before. Never this hard. Never this filled. And definitely not in a place so public.

It was almost like she'd forgotten she was several yards above a crowd of people. But then a woman, a weretiger below her, looked up, and their eyes met. Peter was pounding into her mercilessly as another woman watched. And Kiercy was hurtling towards an orgasm the fastest she ever had without the use of a rumbling vibrator.

Her body was starting to shake, and she was almost at the point of collapse. If not for the press of Peter's body, she would have tumbled over the edge, and the danger of it somehow pushed her further into realms of euphoria she'd never known before. And the weretiger still watched.

Then Kiercy felt something cold and hard press against her, brushing past her clit and resting against her. The music was so loud that she didn't need to hold back even with someone watching her. No one would hear. She'd never had a chance to be this loud. She couldn't think of a time she wanted or needed to before, but she screamed when she came. She screamed his name. She was free to do so because while she felt a private shame, he'd never hear her, but even the thought of that shame drove her orgasm to new heights.

It felt degrading, almost humiliating, that she'd screamed his name as she came. Yet, that was already making her feel wetter.

God, I need fucking help, she thought to herself. But finding a therapist in the area accepting new patients and taking her insurance was a problem for the Kiercy of tomorrow. That Kiercy would have to figure out if this was just a kink she never realized she had or was she suffering some kind of psychotic break from stress. Right now, she had a throbbing need to be filled.

She'd heard about female ejaculation before. She'd never experienced it. She also never came that hard in her life before and was going through a whole lot of feelings about that she was going to have to deal with later. Why had sex with a man she thought she hated with every fiber of her being been the best sex she'd had in her entire life?

But it was only then that she remembered the bottle and realized Peter was pressing it against her. She'd forgotten all about them. When he said it was more potent with cum, she'd even thought it was a lie, but he was making an effort to capture the thick milky fluid.

She wasn't sure how long he held her there, and she may have passed out for a moment, but when she had an ounce of her wits about her, she pulled herself up and shoved him. Not over the railing but onto his back on the catwalk.

She slipped him back inside her and rode him harder than she'd done for any man before. And seconds passed into minutes. And then several minutes. Her thighs burned, and she couldn't believe he hadn't come yet. She suddenly felt a determination well up in her. There was no way he wasn't going to finish. She'd forgotten about the witch bottles almost entirely again. This was a point of pride.

She knew he must have felt her pussy clamp down on him as she came. Hell, he'd pressed the bottle against her at the right moment. He knew. So, if she didn't make him come, he'd win. Though why should she care if he didn't fill the bottle? He'd be vulnerable then, something that would mean she'd be rid of him.

She wouldn't have to listen to him. Did they really need to talk to each other to fuck like this?

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts. She wanted him to fucking manhandle her, but he was being surprisingly gentle, barely brushing her nipples. She looked down at him with desperation, and she saw him laughing. And it pissed her off.

Then she saw him close his eyes and his jaw strain. He was concentrating, using all his will to not come.

She seized his hands again, and he laughed some more. But when she slammed them on the ground just above his head, pinning him in place, he stopped laughing. She was approaching a point of exhaustion, and he was tormenting her. All the squats she'd ever done in the world had not prepared her to ride a dick this hard for this long.

Reluctantly she stopped and pulled off of him, groaning at the loss.

Some people might think of a blow job as a submissive act, but oral sex didn't come with an inherent power imbalance. She wasn't going to let him mercilessly fuck her throat. She was going to be the one in control, and she used every trick she knew, everything she'd ever tried, and a few things she hadn't, but she felt his body shake before he exploded in her mouth.

Only a sliver of self-control reminded her they needed to preserve this as her cheeks bulged. When he stopped, he handed her the bottle. She spat into it, and the self-satisfied look on his face made her abused pussy clench. She'd kick his ass for this as soon as she could stand again.

14

PETER

The stopper on the witch bottle was secured, and made a wonderful home for their lovemaking secretions. They both attempted to catch their breath as they stared at each other. He felt more than he ever thought he would about a bit of fun.

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