Page 76
Story: The WitchSlayer
He stopped moving and turned his head around to give her a quiet snarl over his own back. She already knew he had a very flexible neck.
“See, it is not so bad.” She pressed her lips together into an innocent pout. “There, I have mounted you in a way no one has mounted you before.”
He squinted his eyes. Then, he began to stand up on his hind legs.
She struggled to hold on, but eventually had to let go and went rolling down his back. She was lucky that she rolled against his wing otherwise her body would have been impacted by his hard spikes.
Eventually her back lay against the riches, and he stood over her with a foul glare. He was angry, most likely furious, but Amalia couldn’t help laughing. She lifted her hands until her palms cupped the scales of his jaw.
“That was fun.”
Her joy seemed to deflate the worst of his anger.
“I would have to disagree. I have never been treated so disrespectfully in my life.”
He pulled away from her touch.
“Then lock me away forever so I may suffer the consequences,” she said with an air of dramaticism.
“I have said this often, but I find you rather odd.”
Her punishment was him placing his paw against her and pressing down, forcing the air out of her lungs so she couldn’t breathe. He didn’t do it for long, and he was careful to make sure it wasn’t painful.
“Henceforth, I shall be known as Amalia the Odd. World, fear my strangeness as this Dragon does.”
“That is not an appealing title, and I do not fear something as defenceless as you.”
Amalia folded her arm against her chest while blowing a strand of hair from her face. “I am not defenceless.”
“You speak as if it is not true, but you will not learn to fight to save yourself.”
He tried to convince her often to learn how to wield a weapon. She always refused.
“Why should I... when I have you?”
She smiled for him, but her words made him tilt his head.
The scales around his face turned a brighter shade of purple.
Chapter 17
Today, I will bed the Witch,Rurik thought as he walked through his lair human, shirtless, and wet from the dip in his stream. He didn’t know how he was going to achieve this, but he’d decided that this day he would try to figure out a way under her skirt.
Rurik had spent enough time around her in his human form to know she readily held desire for it by the arousal in her scent. He also sensed it occasionally when he was in his Dragon form, her mind thinking about it.
The more time he spent around her, the more he wanted to feel his body sink inside hers. It worsened when he knew she was aroused, his mind wanting to seize the opportunity.
He wanted to know what her skin tasted like upon his tongue, how she felt against his palms. He wanted to know the kind of lewd sounds she would make, how she would feel when she came, what that sweet, innocent face looked like when it was filled with wicked pleasure instead.
Would she cling to him or arch her back? Would her thighs tighten around his hips so he couldn’t escape, or would they spread to feel him deeper?
Constantly, the thoughts plagued him, the questions he wanted answers to. A gnawing need.
He thought maybe if he found out, if he knew, then they might stop. That perhaps once he had sex with her, his curiosity filled, that he would stop feeling desire for her.
Then, he could be her protecting companion and nothing more.
He saw no other way to rid himself of this fascination of her, and he was fascinated by her. He constantly sought her out, craved to be in her presence so she would speak to him.
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