Page 26 of Always Say Yes to a Dragon

My hands gripped his shoulders as I fought for more leverage. I could get myself off like this, then I’d tackle whatever he was working with. I just needed a little more foreplay before I tried to taketwohuge—

Cool glass hit my exposed shoulders, and he pressed me into the mirror, running his hands through my hair, squeezing my ass, all while I kept grinding against his dicks, moaning into his mouth.

“That’s right, Elle. I’ll give you whatever you want,” he said before delving back into my mouth, his hands grasping my hips and taking over the rhythm.

I didn’t have time to think,couldn’tthink. I could only feel his hands roaming my body, his mouth exploring mine with slow licks, his cocks pressed against my clit, a steady grind until prickles raced up my spine and exploded into stars behind my eyes and he swallowed my screams.

When I came down from my orgasm and my mind settled back into my skull, I pulled away from his mouth. One of his hands gripped my ass, the other my breast, but he wasn’t trying to tug me out of my clothes. He seemed content to continue his explorations.

I nudged at his arms, and he got the hint, setting me down before backing up a step. I reached for his belt. His hips shot forward, but he said, “You don’t have to.”

His dicks—both of them—jerked against the material of his pants, more honest than his mouth.

“Oh, but I want to.” I desperately wanted to see what I’d gotten myself off on. The size, the shape, theridges. Why hadn’t I tried harder to find dragon dick pics?

His large hand wrapped around my wrist as I unbuckled his belt. “Elle.”

I glanced up.

He gave me a tentative smile. “I know it’s different for humans. We can go slow.”

Warmth spread through my chest. If he let me take him at my own pace, this would go much smoother. “Thank you.” I swallowed. “I just need to get familiar with them first.”

My hands pulled down the zipper, freeing his cocks.

Cocks.Two of them, stacked right on top of each other. Golden-hued like the skin on his palms and chest, with a series of ridges running down the undersides. Both heads were tapered, widening out to shafts as thick as my wrist.

Moisture flooded my pussy in anticipation. The practical part of me knew the shape would make insertion easier. The horny part of me couldn’t wait to feel them filling me up.

Mesmerized, I reached out to touch one. It jerked against my hand, hot and heavy. The other leaked pre-come onto my fingers. I should have been worrying about managing them, but all I could think about was tonguing them from base to tip, learning their taste, feeling them inside me.

Did he expect me to take both of them at once? I enjoyed anal on occasion, but I’d never taken anything near that large, and never in a double-penetration situation. Intrigued, I licked my lips.

I dropped to my knees and gave one cockhead an experimental lick. Az’zael drew in a sharp breath, his fingers digging into my hair. Pinpricks tickled my scalp and sent delicious shivers across my sensitized skin.

“Elle—”

BANG!

Az’zael’s wings snapped forward as if on instinct, trapping me against the mirror and blocking out all light. His head twisted toward the sound.

“Damnit.” He tucked both his wings and his dicks away, then wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged me up. “Come on, that’s dinner.”

I followed him to the dining room in a daze, then sat at the sturdy, solid-wood dining table, which was far too large for just too two people, while he brought in the food. The bag readLe Pavillonin fancy script—one of the most expensive places in town. I’d applied there a few times and never got a call back, naturally.

Instead of leaving the food and insisting I go back to sucking his dicks, Az’zael fixed me a plate and set it across from me, then fastened his eyes on my fork.

I clutched the utensil and took a tentative bite, since that’s what he seemed to want.

“How is it?”

I swallowed. “Good.” The food could have been cardboard and I wouldn’t have noticed.

He dug into his own food, but he continued to watch me eat. I tried not to drop any food on myself or look like a total fool. Thank god working in restaurants meant I had a decent grasp on table etiquette.

Eating meant our mouths were too busy to talk. I didn’t know what to say, and anxiety filled my stomach, pushing out all the desire I’d felt moments ago.

I should make small talk, right? Right.“So how do you like Kilinis?” I sounded like a six-year-old learning how to talk to other people for the first time.

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