The thought makes me smile around his cock, licking at the tip as I wrap both hands around his shaft. There’s no way I’m going to be able to fit all of him in my mouth, but I’ve always been a big fan of using what you’ve got to get a job done.
He groans, his thighs locking around my hips, and then he jerks violently. His hot release fills my mouth. I swallow it down, breathing heavily as he slumps back against the earth, his wings flaring wide in a dazed, completely shattered stupor.
Olympic jizznastics gold medalist, indeed.
I crawl up his chest, grinning, my own unsated heat making my pelvis throb. I need him like, right the fuck now.
Him. Shit. SHIT.
I never even got his name. Well, what time is better than now to correct that.
I tap his chest, pointing to myself. He blinks, his heavy white lashes fluttering in the dark, and my smile gets bigger because I did that. Ha.
"Poppy," I whisper, tapping myself again. "Pop-py."
"Pah-pee," he rumbles against my ribs.
I wrinkle my nose, shrugging one shoulder. "Close enough." I tap his chest, looking at him
He points a hand at his own chest. "Vael-Torin."
"Vaaail Tore in," I repeat, doing my level best to match his sharp intonation.
A genuine smile stretches across his face, his fangs catching the faint light. “Vael-Torin."
“Vael-Torin."I try again, and this time, it’s close enough that he smiles wider.
He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his wings over us like a heated blanket. Vael’s touch is reverent, but as he settles me into his body, I realize he is keeping his lower half deliberately locked away from mine.
His hands stay firmly at my waist.
He's intentionally withholding full sex.
It might be the sweetest thing any man has ever done. I know enough from my deep rabbit hole diving about the Draegon to know that if we have sex, we’re bonded for life, and that’s something they take seriously. I didn’t know being in heat would hurt like this, that’s for damn sure, but he knows the mating heat is driving me crazy, and he refuses to lock us into a permanent bond.
He wants me to choose him when my head is clear. At least, that’s what I’m assuming. Call me a mermaid, because all I have to go on here is body language.
It is the most romantic, frustrating thing a giant red dragon could possibly do.
"Vael.” His name is a soft whine on my lips. I wanted forever, or I wouldn’t have signed up for this show. My pussy is literally aching, slick fluid dripping down my inner thighs, enough to distract me from a sudden pang of guilt. "I can't sleep like this."
He rumbles in response. It’s a low, questioning sound, his chest vibrating against my cheek.
I don't try to force his hands down, because I’d be a dick if I didn’t respect his body language. He doesn’t know me!
Well, he knows I can suck a dick and wear the shit out of some marabou heels, but I don’t blame him for not wanting forever to start on our first night.
But I can’t sleep like this, and I turn into a massive bitch when I don’t get enough sleep. Sighing, I turn the problem over in my head. He’s not going to help me out because he clearly doesn’t want to pressure me.
I’ve never had a problem helping myself out, though, and the thought of a hot alien audience makes me even more excited.
I look him in the eye, reach beneath the pink silk of my slip, and slide two fingers through my sex. A moan rips out of me immediately.
Vael-Torin stiffens behind me, and I watch him over my shoulder where he holds me. His golden pupils dilate until his eyes are entirely black, his breath hitching as he watches my hand disappear between my thighs.
I find my clit and nearly yell at the intense swell of pressure, the insane overstimulation making my legs shake. It’s not gonna take me long, thank whatever gods are in charge of alien orgasms. I begin to rub myself in a fast, desperate rhythm right in front of him. A breathless moan escapes my lips, my hips arching off the ground as I chase the release my body is screaming for.
Vael-Torin doesn't move a muscle to stop me, but he’s watching. Oh, is he ever watching. He leans over me, his face inches from mine, his nostrils flaring as he drinks in the sight. His gaze tracks the sloppy sounds of my fingers, studying the exact rhythm and pressure I like.
