Page 30 of Queen of the Cursed Egg
Mina surfaces shortly after, water sluicing off her sleek form, her hair plastered to her head like dark seaweed. She laughs along with me; the sound rippling across the water’s surface.
“That was sneaky, Abraxis.” Her voice is breathless as she kisses my lips, the warmth of her mouth a stark contrast to the cool water surrounding us. I taste her essence—wild honey and storm clouds—as she looks skyward, droplets clinging to her eyelashes like tiny crystals.
Thauglor hovers about ten feet above us, his massive form blocking the sun, casting us in shadow. The downdraft from his wings creates ripples across the lake’s surface, sending small waves lapping against my chest. He descends and offers his taloned hands to us. We grab on, his grip firm but gentle, scales rough against my palms. He lifts us out of the water, the sudden absence of buoyancy making my bodyfeel leaden as water streams from our clothes, and heads over to the nearby meadow. The scent of wildflowers and sun-warmed grass grows stronger as we approach.
He lowers us to the ground, the soft grass cushioning our landing. He shifts back, the air around him seeming to warp and bend for a moment. “That was brilliant, descendant.” He slaps me on the shoulder, the impact stinging pleasantly against my wet skin. His smile reveals teeth too sharp for a human.
Mina’s eyes are all dragon now—vertical pupils dilated with desire in a sea of golden iris—as she stares up at me. The air between us feels charged, electric. She steps between Thauglor and me, her movements fluid and predatory. Her fingers, slightly cool from the lake water, work at the buttons of my pants with deliberate slowness. “Big scary drake caught me. What will I do?” She tilts her head, her damp hair falling across her shoulder as she watches the buttons come undone. Her voice is a purr that I feel more than hear.
Using the side of my forefinger, I tilt her head back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. I kiss the bite mark there, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my lips like a trapped bird. The salt of the lake water mingles with the unique taste of her skin—something I can only describe as sunlight made flesh. Mina moans softly, the sound vibrating against my mouth.
Thauglor’s hands rest on her hips to steady her, his large fingers nearly spanning her waist. I can smell his scent intensifying—smoke and cloves and something ancient that defies description. “Who do you want first, Mina?” I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger, directing her gaze to me. Her skin is feverishly hot despite our recent swim.
“You, you caught me. It’s how Thauglor and I play.” She smiles, her lips swollen from our kisses. Thauglor’s hands move over her body with practiced precision, freeing her from the clinging leathers she’s wearing. Inch by inch, the wet material peels away with a softsucking sound, revealing her pale, flawless skin in the afternoon light. His hand freezes as he pats down her pocket, the fabric making a squelching noise against his palm. He pulls out a tube of lube, and Mina blushes, the color washing across her cheeks like a sunset. “What? I’m prepared?”
A deep rumbling growl escapes his lips, the sound so low I feel it in my bones rather than hear it. His eyes shift to his dragon’s—ancient and predatory. “Mhmm, this gives me ideas...” He growls as he removes his clothing, the fabric dropping to the grass with dull thuds. Where my skin is a light tan, his is a golden bronze, the muscles beneath rippling like liquid metal as he moves. He hoists Mina up, her weight nothing to him, and holds her spread open for me. My mouth goes dry at the sight, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I stare at her sex, transfixed by the glistening evidence of her arousal, watching her essence drip freely, catching the sunlight like liquid diamonds. The musky-sweet scent of her desire fills my nostrils, making my head swim. “Are you going to stare at her or fuck her? If you’re gonna stare, I’m going to bury my cock deep in her while you make up your mind.” Thauglor’s gaze locks on me, the intensity in his eyes snapping me back to reality, and I move quickly, urgency making my movements almost clumsy.
Mina rests her hands on my shoulders, her nails digging crescents into my skin as I slip within her pulsing depths. The sensation is overwhelming—like sliding into a silken sheath made just for me, hot and wet and perfect. Every pulse and flutter spurs me to move, my nerves singing with pleasure. I roll my hips slowly, dragging my length through her core, feeling every ridge and texture of her inner walls grabbing at me, making her moan. The sound is like music, primal and intoxicating.
I take her thighs from Thauglor, the smooth skin warm under my palms, and start moving faster, the rhythm becoming more urgent. Over Mina’s shoulder, I watch him lube his length, the clear gelglistening in the sunlight. He walks closer, his footfalls silent despite his size, and takes a leg from me. He presses his length alongside mine and pushes into Mina, the additional pressure nearly unbearable in its intensity.
“So full,” she moans and wiggles her hips, the slight movement sending shockwaves of pleasure up my spine. I’ve never shared a female like this, the sensation of another male’s flesh against mine strange but not unwelcome, both of us encased in Mina’s tight heat.
“When you pull out, I push in. We work in tandem, and it’s incredible for the female.” Thauglor instructs, his voice strained with effort. I pull out some, feeling him slide along me into our mate, the friction creating sensations I’ve never experienced before. We work together, rolling our hips, pistoning in and out of Mina slowly at first until we find our rhythm, the three of us moving as one entity, our breaths and heartbeats synchronizing in the ancient dance.
Every nerve in my body feels alive, tingling in ways I’ve never felt before, electric currents of pleasure racing along my spine. I don’t know who feels better at this point, me or her. Thauglor’s rumble vibrates through his entire body, including his cock, the sensation transferring through Mina to me. I feel like a teenager all over again when I cum too quickly. The pleasure crests and breaks without warning, my vision blurring at the edges as I spill myself inside her.
Thauglor keeps rumbling as he grips Mina, holding her sideways so that her thigh is against his body, her skin flushed and gleaming with sweat. In a move that defies logic, he drops to his knees, still holding her, the impact sending small tremors through the ground beneath us. He spins her the rest of the way so she’s on her hands and knees; her back a graceful arch in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.
Mina cums almost immediately, her hands shifting to her talons, which she digs into the soil with a sound like tearing fabric. The scent of earth and arousal mingles in the air around us. Thauglorgrunts his release, the sound primal and possessive, as he runs his hand up Mina’s spine, pressing her chest to the ground. She cries out again, her voice hoarse with pleasure, then purrs deeply, the vibrations visible along the delicate line of her throat.
After several moments, he grabs her around the waist and lays them on their side, the grass bending beneath their combined weight. Arching a brow, I look at them curiously, my breathing still uneven. “He used his knots and flair on me. We’re stuck,” Mina says with a sleepy giggle, her eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction.
I look down at my cock, still sensitive and slick with our combined releases, and don’t notice anything like that on my length. The comparison brings an unexpected twinge of inadequacy. “A fully mature drake develops knots and a flair,” Thauglor says, his voice soft in the aftermath of passion. “It happens around the age of a hundred or so, depending on species.”
“I’m an adult male,” I retort, feeling heat rise to my face. I’m almost thirty-four—how much more mature do I need to be?
“Your human side, yes. Your dragon isn’t fully mature until you hit a hundred. You will sire your strongest offspring over the age of a hundred.” He bends down and kisses Mina’s cheek, his tenderness at odds with his earlier ferocity.
“Does my age matter for creating strong hatchlings?” Mina tilts her head, looking back at Thauglor, curiosity bright in her eyes despite her obvious exhaustion.
“Not as much as it does for the male. Your bloodline alone will allow you to bear powerful young. We are additional strength added to your already strong bloodline.” He kisses her reverently, and the sight stirs something in my chest—not jealousy, but a deep appreciation of the bond they share. It makes me wonder if my father is aware of the changes in our biology as we age, this secret knowledge that seems to have been lost to time.
“What thought crossed your mind, Abraxis?” Mina asks as she turns to look at me, her gaze piercing through my contemplation.
“My dad is only seventy. That means he isn’t in his prime either.” I look at Thauglor, and he nods, confirmation settling like a weight between us.
“I think I’m starting to understand what has gone wrong with dragon kind,” Thauglor says as he finally can roll away from Mina, the separation making a soft, wet sound. “How old is the oldest dragon you know besides me and Klauth?” He sits up, looking at me expectantly, his expression grave.
“About a hundred and fifty. Why?” The question puzzles me, and then it clicks, realization dawning like a cold sunrise. “Wait, you and Klauth were over two hundred when you were captured, yet most of the dragons now barely make two hundred.”
“I believe the mages have been messing with our kind for generations.” Thauglor’s voice is heavy with implication as he stands and helps Mina to her feet, her legs wobbling slightly beneath her.
I offer both of them their clothing before I pull mine on, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin. The weight of what we’ve just discussed settles around us like a shroud, dimming the afterglow of our passion.
“Besides Abaddon, I think our bigger concern is the mages and possibly the council for redacting so much important information.” His eyes drift from me to Mina, worry etched into the ancient lines of his face. “Mind getting us home as fast as possible, my treasure? We need to have a nest meeting.”
