and a pale bead of ichor pearled at his tip.
She licked her lips, a flash of wet pinkness, and her gaze darted up to his.
He gripped the short hairs at his nap to stop himself from reaching for her, but he stared at her with all the fire raging in his body.
She soothed the ichor over his cock, down the head, swirling. The slick fluid tingled, or maybe that was just anticipation as she centered her mouth above him. The muscles in his thigh tensed, and he dug his heels into the mattress, wanting so badly to ram his cock between her parting lips.
Her tongue emerged again in a long, slow, lollypop swipe, up over the crown.
“You taste like the storm,” she murmured and then went down, taking him deep. She hummed, a sound of delight that vibrated through him hard enough to break his control and had him nudging up into her mouth.
She bobbed on him, each nod of her head taking more of his cock, her tongue sweeping down the ridged, pulsing veins of his arousal.
He groaned, thrusting his hips harder. And she took that too, the thick head of his penis bumping the back of her throat. She peered up at him through the red dreadlocks, her hazel eyes glinting a challenge.
He couldn’t take any more.
With a curse, he dragged her up his body, careless of her scrambling knees near his dick. He spun her under him, and she gasped, her hands clenching his biceps.
He kissed her in a hard slant, tasting the sweet bite of his ichor on her lips and tongue. He feasted at her mouth until he tasted only her, a hint of musky incense rising from her skin, the lingering aftermath of her orgasm.
Bracing his hands on either side of her, he stared down. “I want to be inside you.”
“No baby, no infections, no beast,” she said.
He quirked his lips. “No problem.”
She dragged the soft, lush weight of her thigh up along his flanks, an erotic embrace. “You swear?”
“The dragon is what protects you. It shares no diseases with humans, and it can only procreate with its solarys—its true mate.” He dipped his head to murmur against her mouth, “I’ll only let it out a little bit.”
She nipped at his lower lip. “That’s what all the boys say.”
“I am not like your boys.”
That he would swear.
When he spread her labia, he found her already wet and wanting. He smoothed her juices over the blunt head of his cock and caught his breath as ichor welled from his tip.
When he took his pleasure from the rich gambling widows, the dragon never came out to play, never revealed its essence. When it had done so earlier, he’d chalked it up to the dry spell he hadn’t bothered lately to break. Probably it was just aroused from last night’s frustrating lack of completion.
The silky shimmer of ichor on his cock cast a faint gleam on the dark curls around Anjali’s plump, damp slit. When he slid slowly into her, the tingle sank deeper.
Her eyes widened. “What—what is that?”
“Ichor,” he said, his jaw clenched to stop from ramming himself balls’ deep.
She curved her spine, opening her channel so he sank like a stone. Her slick warmth mingled with the ichor, enveloping his shaft with molten delight. She arched, grinding her clit against his pubic bone, and then curved again with a gasp, her inner muscles tightening around him.
He took up the wordless demand, stroking her long and hard, pausing at the depth of each stroke to add heat and pressure to the swollen nub of her clit. She mewled and twisted into him. She cupped her hands under the heavy curves of her breasts, plumping up the flesh and tweaking the peaks into bright, begging rubies. He groaned at the clap of her pussy around him as he pounded her.
“Harder,” she panted. “Faster. I need…”
He didn’t need to hear more. Pushing his upper body upright, he slammed his hips into hers. She wrapped her heels behind his ass, lifting herself to every plunging blow.
Eyes closed, she thrashed her head on the pillows, red dreadlocks lashing the pale sheets like
She licked her lips, a flash of wet pinkness, and her gaze darted up to his.
He gripped the short hairs at his nap to stop himself from reaching for her, but he stared at her with all the fire raging in his body.
She soothed the ichor over his cock, down the head, swirling. The slick fluid tingled, or maybe that was just anticipation as she centered her mouth above him. The muscles in his thigh tensed, and he dug his heels into the mattress, wanting so badly to ram his cock between her parting lips.
Her tongue emerged again in a long, slow, lollypop swipe, up over the crown.
“You taste like the storm,” she murmured and then went down, taking him deep. She hummed, a sound of delight that vibrated through him hard enough to break his control and had him nudging up into her mouth.
She bobbed on him, each nod of her head taking more of his cock, her tongue sweeping down the ridged, pulsing veins of his arousal.
He groaned, thrusting his hips harder. And she took that too, the thick head of his penis bumping the back of her throat. She peered up at him through the red dreadlocks, her hazel eyes glinting a challenge.
He couldn’t take any more.
With a curse, he dragged her up his body, careless of her scrambling knees near his dick. He spun her under him, and she gasped, her hands clenching his biceps.
He kissed her in a hard slant, tasting the sweet bite of his ichor on her lips and tongue. He feasted at her mouth until he tasted only her, a hint of musky incense rising from her skin, the lingering aftermath of her orgasm.
Bracing his hands on either side of her, he stared down. “I want to be inside you.”
“No baby, no infections, no beast,” she said.
He quirked his lips. “No problem.”
She dragged the soft, lush weight of her thigh up along his flanks, an erotic embrace. “You swear?”
“The dragon is what protects you. It shares no diseases with humans, and it can only procreate with its solarys—its true mate.” He dipped his head to murmur against her mouth, “I’ll only let it out a little bit.”
She nipped at his lower lip. “That’s what all the boys say.”
“I am not like your boys.”
That he would swear.
When he spread her labia, he found her already wet and wanting. He smoothed her juices over the blunt head of his cock and caught his breath as ichor welled from his tip.
When he took his pleasure from the rich gambling widows, the dragon never came out to play, never revealed its essence. When it had done so earlier, he’d chalked it up to the dry spell he hadn’t bothered lately to break. Probably it was just aroused from last night’s frustrating lack of completion.
The silky shimmer of ichor on his cock cast a faint gleam on the dark curls around Anjali’s plump, damp slit. When he slid slowly into her, the tingle sank deeper.
Her eyes widened. “What—what is that?”
“Ichor,” he said, his jaw clenched to stop from ramming himself balls’ deep.
She curved her spine, opening her channel so he sank like a stone. Her slick warmth mingled with the ichor, enveloping his shaft with molten delight. She arched, grinding her clit against his pubic bone, and then curved again with a gasp, her inner muscles tightening around him.
He took up the wordless demand, stroking her long and hard, pausing at the depth of each stroke to add heat and pressure to the swollen nub of her clit. She mewled and twisted into him. She cupped her hands under the heavy curves of her breasts, plumping up the flesh and tweaking the peaks into bright, begging rubies. He groaned at the clap of her pussy around him as he pounded her.
“Harder,” she panted. “Faster. I need…”
He didn’t need to hear more. Pushing his upper body upright, he slammed his hips into hers. She wrapped her heels behind his ass, lifting herself to every plunging blow.
Eyes closed, she thrashed her head on the pillows, red dreadlocks lashing the pale sheets like
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