Page 64 of Kenna's Dragon

Straddled across his hips, I grind myself into him, spreading the slick arousal from my pussy along the length of his cock. He’s probably already lubed up enough, but if a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. And the added benefit of spreading the warm, tingling lube against my pussy is just another perk.

Ewan meets me stroke for stroke, sinking the tips of his claws in a little where he’s got his hands on my ass. He keeps me held firmly against him, running his thick length over and over my clit until he reaches the end of his patience.

“Enough,” he says again, and by the edge in his voice, I can tell he’s close. Too fucking close.

He’s not the only one. I’m about two good strokes away from coming without him in me, and that feels pretty fucking unacceptable right now.

Bracing one hand on his shoulder, I wrap the other around his cock and notch him at my entrance. Shifting impatiently, I start to slide him inside, but the angle is more difficult than when he’s been on top of me or behind me, and I let out a tight, impatient whine.

“Could use some help here,” I pant, rocking my hips into him.

Whether he picks up on my rising desperation to have him in me, or on the slight wince of pain in my expression as he stretches me toward my limit, something about the words gentles Ewan. His grip on my hips loosens, fingers soft and coaxing rather than sharp-tipped and insistent.

“Easy, ember,” he rumbles, stilling me and slowing us down.

I wish he wouldn’t.

Talking to me like this, soothing me like this, showing this kind of restraint and taking it easy on me. It feels too much like… well, I don’t know what the fuck it feels like, but I know it’s not what I want. Not from him. Not right now.

I angle my hips a bit differently, breathe in and out to get myself to relax, and he slips another couple of inches inside.

The curse Ewan lets out is muffled against my shoulder as his lips find my skin, and his fingers press harder into my hips.

“You’re going to fucking kill me.”

“Good,” I rasp.

If I’m going to fall apart, then so should he.

Rocking again and feeling myself soften around him, the sharp drag of his fangs on my shoulder makes me relax even more. It’s what I want—the hard edges of him, not the soft.

It’s an award-winning effort on my part, but I eventually get him all the way inside. I’m breathing hard, grinding myself down on his scaled pelvis and reveling in the way the rippled feel of him rubs against my clit. I do it again, and again, until he pricks me a little harder with his claws, drawing my attention.

Ewan’s head is still dipped down, eyes fixed on where we’re joined, but when he senses me looking he drags his gaze up to mine. Our eyes meet, and I freeze. I’m caught, completely transfixed by the golden flames swirling there, pinning me in place. It makes me feel seen in a way I don’t want to be—exposed, cracked open, every part of me laid bare for him to examine—and it’s almost enough to make me want to climb off him and run away.

Almost. Because what he says next breaks the spell and reminds me exactly why I’m here.

“I saidenough, ember. If you’re not going to fuck me properly, then I have no problem taking you to the floor and rutting you there.”

A flash of heat breaks over my skin. There it is.

That’s the dragon I need.

Using hands and knees and my whole body for leverage, I raise up until he’s almost all the way out of me before sinking back down fast and brutal and drawing strangled, broken noises from us both.

Ewan moves with me, rocking his hips up to meet mine, digging his claws in so deep I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a set of bruises there tomorrow, dragging his fangs nearly hard enough against my skin to draw blood.

I revel in all of it. The edge of pain, the furious way we push each other higher, harder, until we shatter together in a mess of sweat and shaking and straining muscles. Tenderness feels like too much, but this? This feels fucking incredible.

As we come down, Ewan keeps his arms around me and drags me with him up onto the mattress. He’s breathing as hard as I am, brow damp with sweat and a low groan in his throat as he rolls onto his side.

“I’m too damn old for this.”

I huff a breathless laugh, pushing up onto an elbow to look over at him. If he were an ordinary human man he’d look like he was about forty, but in this half-shifted form he looks ageless, mythical. If I didn’t already know how old he was, I wouldn’t even be able to guess.

Instead of thinking about it too hard, I just give him a condescending pat on the shoulder.

“That’s alright. I can grade on a curve. ‘A’ for effort.”

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