Page 3 of Daring the Drakarn Warrior Lord
I wanted it, the overwhelming fullness, the drag of his cock against my inner walls, the way that flexible tip curled and stroked with each thrust. I wanted the weight of him above me, the heat of his breath on my skin, the possessive grip of his hands on my hips.
"Harder," I demanded, nails digging into his shoulders.
He complied with a snarl, hips snapping forward with enough force to make me see stars. The angle shifted, and suddenly, that clever tip was pressing against a spot that made my entire body lock up.
"There," I gasped. "Right there, don't stop?—"
He didn't. He drove into me with single-minded focus, hitting that spot with every thrust, and I felt the pressure building again. Faster this time. Sharper.
His fangs found my shoulder, not breaking skin but applying pressure, and that was it. I came with a cry that echoed off the stone walls, clenching around him, body shaking with the force of it.
He followed with a roar, hips jerking as he spilled inside me. I felt every pulse, every wave, the heat of him filling me as that flexible tip continued to stroke, drawing out both our pleasure until we were both trembling.
He collapsed beside me, careful not to crush me, wings spread across the floor. For a long moment, we just lay there, chests heaving, skin cooling in the chamber's heat.
Then he reached out, pulling me against his side. I went willingly, tucking myself against him, one leg thrown over hiship. His tail curled around my calf, a casual possessiveness that made me smile.
"I should let you win more often," I said when I could speak again.
His laugh rumbled through his chest. "You didn't let me do anything,luvae. I earned that victory."
"Keep telling yourself that."
He nipped my ear in retaliation, and I grinned. This, the teasing, the ease between us, was almost as good as the sex.
Eventually, we had to move. The stone floor wasn't exactly comfortable for extended lounging. Darrokar stood first, offering me a hand. I took it, letting him pull me to my feet, and tried not to wince at the pleasant ache between my thighs.
We gathered our scattered clothes. Most of mine were beyond saving, shredded by enthusiastic claws. Darrokar looked entirely too pleased about that.
"I'm running out of training clothes," I pointed out.
"I'll have more made."
"And then you'll just destroy those too."
"Yes." No shame whatsoever in that admission.
I shook my head, pulling on his shirt instead. It fell to mid-thigh on me, and his eyes darkened seeing me in it.
"Don't even think about it," I warned. "I can barely walk as it is."
"Later, then."
"Insatiable lizard."
"Your insatiable lizard."
I couldn't argue with that.
We made our way back to his quarters—our quarters, I corrected myself. After eight months in Scalvaris, the place was almost starting to feel like home. The rooms were quiet, lit by the ever-present heat crystals. Darrokar headed for the bathing pool, but I caught his hand.
"Wait. I have something for you."
He turned, curiosity crossing his features. "Something?"
I crossed to where I'd hidden my surprise earlier, tucked behind one of the obsidian pillows on the lounge. The package was small, wrapped in cloth I'd traded for from one of the Scalvaris artisans.
"Here," I said, offering it to him.
