Page 57 of Kenna's Dragon

I watch him shamelessly as he goes, greedily drinking in the sight of his firm ass and the ripple of scales on his back, the impressive sweep of his golden wings.

A dragon. I just fucked a dragon.

My head is still spinning with that thought when he reemerges a couple of minutes later. He’s carrying a towel and a damp cloth, and even though I try to protest, he clucks his tongue in disapproval before kneeling next to my bent knees on the mattress. I frown at him, keeping them stubbornly together.

“I can do that.”

It feels like… too much. Him cleaning me up. Tending to me like that. It feels too caring and too intimate and not like something a fuck buddy’s supposed to do for you.

“Let me,” Blair insists.

The deep, rumbling command makes my muscles twitch with the immediate instinct to obey, but I just frown more deeply and shake my head.

“Kenna,” he says. A warning.

I roll my eyes. “Ewan.”

As soon as I use his first name, he goes entirely still.

“Why the change?” he asks, voice husky with unexpected emotion.

“I don’t have to use it.” I shrug awkwardly where I’m still laying on my back, wondering how badly I just fucked up. “I just figured it’s kind of weird to keep calling you Blair, you know, now that we’ve had sex and I—”

I don’t get to finish my sentence before Blair—Ewan—lunges up and presses me back into the mattress. My legs fall open for him immediately, and my whole body arches into the rough tenderness of his kiss.

“Say it again,” he rasps against my lips.

“Ewan.”

He shudders as he starts sliding his way down my body. “Once more, ember.”

I don’t just give him one more. I say it over and over as he kisses a trail down my neck and stops to tease my nipples into tight, stiff peaks. I cry it out as he dips lower still and gives me a sharp nip just above my navel. I say it a little hesitantly as he eases between my thighs, acutely aware that I didn’t let him clean me up and I’m still sticky with him and me combined.

Ewan, though, doesn’t seem to mind.

“I enjoy making a mess of you, ember,” he murmurs against the skin of my inner thigh. “And I enjoy tasting myself on you.”

He proves he’s not lying about that a moment later as he swipes his tongue up the center of me. The noises he’s making against me are wet, satisfied, borderline obscene, but his enthusiasm and hunger are contagious. If he doesn’t mind, who am I to complain?

Ewan makes a whole fucking production of cleaning me up with lips and teeth and tongue on my pussy, the insides of my thighs, the stiff peak of my clit as he catches it between his lips and sucks. Just as I feel the first tremors of my approaching orgasm, though, he pulls away.

With a deep groan, he lifts himself off me and grabs me by the hips. He flips me over before climbing back up the bed and hovering the entire length of his big, scale-scattered body over me. One arm bands under my belly, bringing my hips up and back against him. His knees press into the mattress between my thighs, spreading wider to open me up for him. Leaning in, he runs his teeth along the side of my neck, just below my ear, and his stiff cock presses into the swell of my ass.

“I’m going to fuck you again, Kenna. Tell me if that’s not something you want.”

Is that even a question at this point?

Instead of answering, I arch into him, thrust my hips back in a blatant invitation, but Ewan’s not satisfied.

“Tell me yes.”

“Yes. Fuckingyes, Ewan, I—” My words cut off on a breathless moan as he thrusts forward.

The tapered tip of his cock presses into me, and just like last time, it’s so, so much better than the toy he used on me. Bigger, warmer, stretching me to an edge of delicious pressure and fullness as he eases inside. He murmurs to me as he sinks deeper, telling me how beautifully I take him, how perfectly I fit him, a steady stream of praise and filth that makes me burn even hotter.

When he’s bottomed out inside me, he pauses. I look back over my shoulder and find him staring down at where he’s buried in me, hands on my ass, keeping me spread open for him so he can get a good, long look.

I should feel more uncomfortable right now. Having all that focused, fire-bright energy fixed squarely on me should make me want to squirm and hide. It should make me self-conscious, wondering what I look like to him and what he thinks of me, but all I feel is heat searing me from the inside out, burning up all my doubts.

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