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She purred like a kitten to welcome his heat and weight, as he knew she would. She loved the feel of his body bearing her down, as if anchoring her to earth when pleasure floated her away.
Keeping her anchored to him didn’t lessen her bliss, he knew. Only magnified and multiplied it so she could rise again and again, to higher heights.
Without words, he nudged her thighs open with his hips, and she brought her knees up reflexively to give him more room.
She was already wet and swollen for him at her core. She always was. And always would be.
He understood this now. That he was built to please her, and she was made to bring him joy.
“Keep talking,” he urged, as he ground slowly against her needy center with his heavy stalk.
From root to tip he worked her, rubbing her juices all along his column, slicking them both. Nudging just inside her pouting nether lips with his cockhead, mixing his own dew with her nectar. Then dipping down to lap up the intoxicating concoction with his tongue, flicking her pearl in a continuous undulation that drove her mad.
“Umm…” she flailed, her voice evaporating into a breathy moan, her hands clawing into his hair as he thrust his tongue inside of her.
Dip, flick.
Lap, lap, lap.
Thrust, lick.
Flick, flick, flick.
“Sai…er…what was I talking about again?”
“The rain,” he rumbled against her drenched core, the vibration from his deep, rumbly voice making her quiver uncontrollably.
“Right…” she sighed.
“Th-the rain…”
Her hands pulled more insistently at his hair, almost hard enough to hurt. He obliged her by rising up again and settling his hips against hers, pinning her down, while he clenched his buttocks rhythmically to give her shallow, devastating little thrusts.
Just enough to wet his cockhead. Just a couple of inches deep. The engorged glans was plump enough to make her feel his invasion despite the shallowness of the penetration. Her pussy lips sucked on him tightly and voraciously with every thrust.
Her body tried to pull him deeper. But she had no leverage with him pinning her down this way. She writhed and arched to make him move, but he was immovable.
He wanted to take his time. He wanted to drive her mad. Give her the best loving she’d ever, and would ever, have.
Because he didn’t know what tomorrow would bring when they arrived at Inverness.
The Master was waiting. He felt it.
His time was up. He felt that too.
Perhaps he did have a chance at freedom if he fled to the ocean right this second. If he let go of Brigid and the light he found with her. If he returned to the comforting darkness and simple existence beneath the waves.
Perhaps she’d be stronger without him when she faced the Master’s monsters. If he stayed, he might be more liability than aid.
For, he was a monster too.
He always had been. It always existed within him.
The urge to rage and destroy. To sink his sharp teeth into prey and gorge on their blood.
He was dragon, after all.
One of the most powerful creatures in the universe. All those weaker should bow to him. Worship him. Cower in awe of him.
