Easing us to the ground with soft thrusts, obsession fills me. She is mine. She will take it.
I would use her through the coming evening and night if I knew her body could take it.
Lifting my head, I scan our surroundings, listening, shallowly rutting her all the while.
When I am sure there are no predators nearby, I do just that, rut her some more—until she stiffens again, moans in the grass, and her sheath clamps. With little seed left to give, I enjoy the possessive human sensation of her keeping me in place, milking me. And when her body softens again, I finally pull out, rolling her over with my tail.
Her glistening dark eyes meet mine. Sweat slickens her brow. Leaning over her, I lick it off.
“You did not pass out,” I say, tasting female spice on my tongue.
She laughs softly. “I did. For a few minutes, I believe I did. I don’t remember leaving the ocean.”
Petting her, I squeeze one of her plump breasts—which is still covered. Pulling down her chest coverings, I span my fingers over the orb. Her skin is many shades darker than mine. Though I am quite pale in comparison to her people, I realize that humans come in many colors and hues like dragons. “You are fine now. I will make sure of it,” I tell her, rubbing her tit with my thumb.
For some strange reason, I suddenly want to rub my shaft over them.
She spreads her legs slightly, dips her hand between us and her thighs, and catches some of my seed over her fingers. She lifts it to her eyes. “This,” she sighs, “does strange things to me.”
We are both feeling strange.
She is so beautiful in the golden twilight that it hurts. It physically hurts. My chest clenches.
I clear my throat. “I have much to share.” I am eager to share.
She pins me with her gaze. Her mouth twitches. “Good.”
So unlike a femdragon…
Humans enjoy rutting many times over, I note. My cock tightens. So do I.
But she wipes my seed on her belly, closes her legs, and pushes herself against my side, and as she rests her head in the nook between my chest and shoulder, I decide not to mount her again. I clasp her to me.
She is much smaller than me. I must be careful.
“I’m glad you came after me,” she says after a while.
“I will always come for you,” I warn. “Make no mistake about that. I grow cold… and desperate when you are not near me.” I peer up at the comet above. “It is not a nice thing to feel.”
She nuzzles her cheek on me. “The same happens to me, Zaeyr.” She breathes my name, and it is wonderful. “Is it the bond?”
“I do not know. And even so, I do not like you out of my sight.”
“…Why?”
“I have never laid eyes on something so beguiling as you.” It is the truth. “I have seen much—all the treasures of the ocean and more, all the creatures that roam the shores and waters—and none have broken my thoughts like you have, none have upended the wants I always wanted.”
In the distance, the sun begins to set. The music of the jungle changes, grows ever more quiet. Pulling Aida closer to me, she nuzzles me some more.
“I thought you were beautiful too,” she says.
“Thank you,” I preen. “Sleep now, little human. Tomorrow we head back to your tribe, where it is safe. Until then, you are protected with me.”
She hums, and shortly after, she settles.
I watch the stars flicker against the darkening sky, finding that for the very first time, I’m soothed and complete. And when the moon reaches its zenith above, I close one eye and rest.
Knowing I have finally caught myself a mate. The best of them all.
16
The Journey Home
Crunch.
Waking the next morning, I find a pile of fruit beside me and Zaeyr staring at me from a short distance away, awash in the red light of the comet. His face is a mask of hunger, nearly inhuman.
The sharp lines of his jaw glint with sapphire. His thick brows arch. My eyes dip, finding his tail wrapped around his prick, pumping swiftly.
I shiver, remembering our mating. Seeding, I correct.
He takes a bite of his own fruit, and I realize that’s the sound I hear. Behind him is the ocean, calm and beautiful.
Pulling my gaze away, sitting up—watching him watch me—I adjust my chest coverings and begin to feast on the meal he brought. I’m tickled he sought to provide for me, and as I go through several fruits, I’m happy he did so.
“Thank you,” I say when I finish, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
The glow in his eyes darkens. He crawls to me, pushes me down, tugs my skirt up, and forces my legs apart. He presses his thick girth to my opening and rams in.
I’m already ready for him.
Though I still burn from the abrupt stretch.
“Say it again,” he orders.
“Thank you!”
He slams home, deep and devastating.
Gasping, spreading my legs, hooking them over his hips. It drives my butt into the ground. Each time the thick middle of his prick slips in and out, I moan.
Grunting, he bows his spine and pulls my chest covering down, taking one tit, then the other in his mouth to suckle. I throw my head back, grabbing his horns, and finding the right leverage there—I come.
I cry out, and Zaeyr’s rutting grows frenzied.
My core clenches wildy. His grunts turn to ragged bellows—then roars. He roars when his seed bursts and floods me. Clamping hard, I take it all, arching my hips and clinging to him for more.
My dragon gives me everything.
Hard, possessive,
