“Oh fuck, please.” Viraj’s choked whimper trembled to the tune of every deep thrust Gatlin rocked his hips to complete. Every slap of flesh to flesh promised bruises and marks.
“My mark is on your ass, omega. You’re mine. Ours. Our mate is watching. Tell him how good it feels.” Gatlin let his human mind take a back seat as the spirit rode his human form from the inside, tapping something deep and sordid within himself. After all, a dragon was muchbiggeron the inside than a man.
Viraj turned his head, lips wet with saliva as he panted out broken words. “G-good. So—so deep. I’m…”
Viraj’s hand darted down to grasp his cock, but Teige moved forward, eyes aflame with his own dragon taking perverse interest. It didn’t matter what Gatlin did, Teige would finish it. They’d fill him with cum until he could take no more, forcing a dragon’s full, unsuppressed load into him.
With a quick gesture, Teige had his fly open, cock hard and dripping. “That’s our cock to touch, Viraj. If you must touch one, you’ll see to mine.”
Viraj sobbed with absolute misery at the denial, but his growing wetness increased. Obediently, he reached out an eager hand to get the best grasp he could on Teige’s cock. Teige, as if sensing the awkward posture, braced himself at an angle.
Gatlin intended to stroke his dripping cock, and he did with a fervent reach. Teige rumbled with pleasure, his own dragon tempted out to play by Gatlin’s. “That’s right, mate.”
Viraj let loose a strangled cry as Gatlin’s hips increased speed, strength shaking their sturdy omega to the core. Despite the strength, he held composure, Viraj gripping Teige’s cock to obediently stroke.
“Teige.” Gatlin’s breathy voice sawed out as he manhandled Viraj onto all fours and hooked a finger into his cheek to pull his mouth open, saliva coating his lips. “Spitroast.”
Teige gave a groan as Viraj struggled, hips rotating and rolling to match Gatlin’s thrusts.
Viraj winced and choked when Teige wasted no time in knocking his hands away and bringing his beautiful cock to Viraj’s mouth to push the flared, pink crown in with little resistance.
Love had been there at one point, but it had left the moment Viraj condemned their actions and threatened their mate bond over jealousy for an omega they’d never search for again.
Gatlin didn’t have to see Viraj’s face to know that familiar look of horror, terror, and surrender melting into what it truly was: veiled desire.
Teige thrusted his hips forward in inching little circles, working his way into Viraj’s familiar mouth. A warm chuckle broke Teige’s concentration as he looked to Gatlin, a familiar habit of seeking his confirmation; he got just that with a shrug. “Who pulls out?”
Viraj trembled as Teige eased in, that telltale point where his cock bumped the back of their mate’s throat.
Gatlin, though, spoke and snarled, fingertips so close to becoming claws as he held Viraj tight. “None of us.”
Viraj choked in panic, but they had clear signs of refusal: a hand gesture, a word, different things they’d all respect. No act that Gatlin or Teige pushed him into left him helpless or without a clear signal to stop.
Gatlin rucked Viraj’s shirt up, hand cupping and fondling Viraj’s slender belly, lacking in the fierce tone of Stoor alphas. But truth told, Gatlin knew Viraj took to their sculpted frames like cats to silvervine. “You’ll take it and love it, Dette.”
Over the years, they’d occasionally used the moniker as a teasing pet name for him, assurance he was as good to them as any Dette. Their little teasing comment had turned out to betheir dragons knowing far better than they did. Ignorance was bliss, after all.
But knowledge?
It was divine.
Gatlin released Viraj’s jaw and cock to brace Viraj’s hips, keeping him from flying forward and choking him on Teige’s cock. Teige didn’t mind, though, and took his own pace, rocking his hips back and forth, bracing a hand on Viraj’s head to keep him locked down.
Something wonderful about Viraj, how being used made him clench tight. And with every movement, his insides trembled. He knew what to expect when they got like that.
Teasing the Drakes, insulting them, and general churlish behavior brought out what made Stoor and Loch Drakes so prone to despicable behavior. Their dragons delighted in their own dominance. And they couldn’t stand to lay low when sex grew too heated. Most of the clan controlled that side of themselves, or stuck to Drakes to keep their urges from harming a Dette. Their own Dettes were few and far between and were not usually the kind of males willing to relish the behavior, stubborn as anything, viewing the degradation as hate and rejection.
Viraj’s dragon savored it, and took their fervor for what it was,desire.
So, when Gatlin slammed home and fought with his dragon, smoke filled his nostrils as much as Teige’s eyes glowed with his dragon. The beasts may not have been fucking Viraj, but they’d add their own magic, ride their human minds to take in the lust like a drug.
Breed. Fill. Ruin.Gatlin’s dragon snarled as the telltale white heat and lightning at the base of his cock told him his knot was close to filling and cum ready to burst forth.
Gatlin reassured himself by reaching around to fondle Viraj’s cock, the precious thing hard and leaking precum incopious strands. And it might have been small, but he filled Gatlin’s hand for a squeeze and stroke well enough to receive his pleasure. He howled at having his cock touched, the organ the perfect size that either of the Drakes could take him balls and all in their mouths. The thought made Gatlin want to. “Take us both and I’ll give you my mouth until my jaw gives out, Vivi.”
The threat made Viraj choke over Teige, his throat and shoulders jerking with the effort as drool pooled onto the floor. And mired in the choke and heave of his forebody was a strained pulse so deep inside him that it forced Gatlin’s knot into full hardness, locking them together as the first volley of cum erupted from his balls—and somewhere deeper inside his very core, from his dragon’s as well.
The intensity of an orgasm that strong and cum that copious made Gatlin stupid. He did his best to forget the awkward slackened state of his face, the curl of his lip, and wounded cry he made every time it happened. Waves of pleasure rode the current over him, cock surging, a hose from some hidden reservoir deep inside filling Viraj as Teige hit his peak, thrusting manically, using Viraj as an object.
