Page 14

Chapter

Thirteen

ANYA

I nitiate me into the pleasures? Holy hells! I stare down at him in horror as a tongue of heat unfurls rapidly within my belly without my leave. And is he going to do this by allowing Drisk to mount him? It defies all beliefs.

“Are you certain? Drisk is a wyvern, and he’s… not small,” I murmur doubtfully but Drisk’s clicking laughter interrupts any response from him as the wyvern enters the main room.

“You did not enlighten her about a wyvern and orc’s bond before mentioning the swallowing of girthy pricks?” Drisk asks Daghel with a sort of savage glee that makes my toes curl with the anticipation of what’s coming.

Hopefully me, repeatedly.

“I have been mounted by Drisk since he claimed and bonded me,” Daghel assures me as he removes his fur cloak and tunic, tossing them casually on one of the lounges.

My mouth goes dry as I realize that all of this is completely in earnest. He is really going to do it… and let me watch. He holds my gaze as he kicks off his boots so that his bare clawed feet touch the floor and unbuckles his belt before flinging that aside as well. My pulse speeds up, and I’m sure it must be matching the rattling purr of the wyvern as Drisk’s amber eyes fasten on the orc. A hint of a smile plays at the corner of Daghel’s mouth, as if he understands exactly how much it’s affecting us, and I realize belatedly that I haven’t been even attempting to control my reaction as I watch him strip. I know he is being barraged by the perfume of my arousal that is only growing stronger as he proceeds to loosen the fabric gathered and tied at his waist. When at last it falls free, the material flows around his legs like a black woolen skirt that shifts around his ankles with every casual movement of his body.

His fingers skim over the ties of the waistband enticingly, but he doesn’t go any further. Instead, he nods toward the hall leading to our bedchamber, his dark eyes no longer icy as they blaze with the fire of his arousal. I lick my lips, suddenly nervous and very, very curious about logistics.

“No offense, but how does this work? I’m assuming, by looking at Drisk, that wyverns have internal genitalia. How do you manage cleanliness or even?—”

“Show her,” Daghel interrupts, his eyes narrowing on me with desire.

The wyvern hums in agreement and sits back on his hind legs, drawing his arms to his sides so that I have an unobstructed view of his genital sheath. His cock slides out, the blue tip pushing from the sheath as inch by inch of his slippery cock is exposed. And it is impressive. Bearing numerous bumps and one large ridge that runs down the length to a raised pebbly spot at his cock’s tips, it’s far longer and thicker than anything I’ve taken. It’s also mercifully smaller than I expected, considering the sheer size of his frame. While he is no more than twice Daghel’s size, and more accurately quite a bit short on that, I had assumed that his cock would be more in proportion to it.

“Do you see the slick on his prick?” Daghel asks, and I quickly nod my head in confirmation. “That is not only lubrication but also a potent antiseptic, to the point where healers covet it as a cleansing fluid for wounds.”

I balk at that bit of news. “Are you telling me that I had wyvern cock juice spread over my wound?”

His lips twist in amusement as Drisk lets out another hair-raising cackle. “Straight from Drisk, as it happens.”

“Merciful gods,” I mutter. “That certainly comes close to the top of my weird shit list. So I’m assuming that whenever his phallus draws back into his sheath that it is thoroughly cleansed?”

Daghel nods and turns to Drisk, his big hand covering the wyvern’s sheath as he slowly strokes down toward the base, where he points to what appears to be a large gland in the back.

“This is not his testicles,” he informs me as he glances up to meet my gaze with obvious humor. “It is a special gland that stores the waste that occurs whenever his sheath retracts and triggers a cleansing with his excessive fluids. The waste fluid is collected here to be ejected at a later time when Drisk leaves the rookery.”

“My prick is cleaner than any orc’s on this mountain,” Drisk rejoins with a rapid click of laughter. “ And my fires sustain the biochemical balance within my bodily fluids to keep it perfectly regulated.”

“That… is good to know,” I admit with a little laugh of my own.

“Come then,” Daghel growls, and the mood shifts, a serious intensity falling that makes my laughter vanish as my gaze snaps back to him.

He blends with the shadows and slips down the hall, becoming entirely invisible to me except for the burning blackness of his eyes that I can somehow still pinpoint. My heart gallops within my chest with nervous excitement as I take my first step down the hall, following after him. Drisk grunts and I glance back over my shoulder at him as he drops on to his hands to prowl into the hall behind me. His amber eyes glow brighter in the dim lighting in the hall, and I swallow nervously as my head snaps forward to where Daghel is waiting for me at the door to our bedchamber. My steps instinctively slow with uncertainty, but there is a tiny electric thrill that races up from a hidden place within me, responding to the fact that I’m very much caught in a narrow place between two big hungry males.

Their hunger is like a sucking void, tugging my senses, triggering a slow buildup of heat from within my core. Daghel waits, eyeing me like a cat watching a struggling sparrow or toying with a blind mouse. I shiver as I come up to his side and tip my head back to peer up at him. His lips twist in a faint smile and I catch a hint of his fangs as I slip past, drawn irrepressibly into the room.

The room is so dark that I can barely see where I’m going, and I must rely on memory as I step carefully so that I don’t accidentally stumble into the table and chair. My pulse pounds in my ears, filling the void with its quickening beat. A thrum rolls through me, echoing deep within me, and Drisk croons to it as he fills the doorway for a moment before slipping inside with a rhythmic hiss and the scrape of his claws against the stone floor. He prowls directly for me, but then he angles away and brushes his head against me like a big cat as he passes and heads for the bed. His pinned wings flare slightly, shadows expanding quickly in the dark and just as quickly contracting, as he climbs onto the bed before circling and waiting expectantly, his eyes like two bright gems glowing back at me.

My skin prickles as footsteps echo within the room, and I turn to face Daghel as he stalks forward, the fabric around his legs whispering with his every movement. He stops just a few feet away from me, and I see the shadowy outline of his head turn toward Drisk.

“The fire, Drisk. She cannot see anything otherwise.”

“Ahh,” Drisk hums with another clicking laugh, and a bright ribbon of crimson fire streaks through the air before exploding over the logs in the hearth with an eruption of dancing flames.

I squint as the room brightens abruptly. Several candelabras between the bed and the hearth also sprang to life with the stream of fire, and they cast ghostly shadows over Daghel’s paleness, making him look even less corporeal.

Of course, a wraith would invite me to witness his submission to the shadowy wyvern. Drisk’s dusky blue scales make him look like a living shadow—all except for his slickened cock, which has a strange luminescence. It jerks with a strange pulsing movement that is visible within the raised ridge running down the length of its shaft. A drop of fluid pearls at its tip but doesn’t drop to the furs on our bed. It merely trembles with the vibration of his croon as it grows louder within the chamber.

Daghel turns his head toward me and holds my gaze as his hand goes once more to his waistband. This time he doesn’t hesitate but unties the strings and the fabric slides down his muscular legs to pool at his feet. He braces his feet far apart, so that nothing is hidden, allowing me a long moment to look my fill. My eyes fall to his sex and a startled sound escapes me.

“Your cock…”

“Is like Drisk’s,” he finishes in an amused voice as his hand goes to the hard length and gives it a slow stroke. “Yes. It is. It is because the orcs of the Cold Mountains have blended our genetics so much with the wyverns over the ages that those who are bound as gathols not only need each other to reproduce, as the seed from both males is required, but this is also a characteristic we share. There are very few males in the mountains who do not have it due.”

My brows knit together in confusion and I open my mouth to voice my question, but Daghel’s raspy chuckle fills the room, interrupting me.

“Questions can be answered later,” he rumbles. “All you need know at this moment that no progeny will come without your permission… Wyverns have excellent control of when and where they will breed. Tonight is all about you, and I believe you wished to begin with a demonstration.”

I nod, since my tongue is suddenly glued to the roof of my mouth as he whispers tantalizingly to me. It seems almost lurid. When has any male ever performed for me? I have heard of paid professionals in Zyl’s red district, but I had never set foot inside such a place. Despite our profession, courtesans must work even harder to keep our reputation intact, and places like the red district were always strictly forbidden by Madrina.

The small gesture seems to be enough for Daghel, however, because he inclines his head and ambles toward the bed. Drisk kneads the furs expectantly, his croon reaching a deeper pitch as Daghel vaults on to the bed. His bare body barely brushes the furs when Drisk moves lightning fast to scoop him up with one clawed hand to drag him down toward his hindquarters.

“Not so fast that she cannot see,” Daghel growls, and I watch as Drisk’s chest expands with a deep breath and the wyvern calms himself enough to slowly and carefully position the orc in front of his engorged and weeping tip.

Heat flows through me and my belly clenches, sending a pulse straight down to my cunt. Drisk’s slickened sex slides back and forth along Daghel’s muscular ass, thoroughly lubricating him with his dripping essence with every pass until notching the tip and pressing slowly inward. My angle does not allow me to see the way Daghel’s ass is stretching around his hot girth, but I can well imagine as I’ve had more than one man on his hands and knees in front of me while I’ve worked an artificial phallus in and out of his clenching, puckered ass. Daghel is making the same whining sound, but it is a low treble that echoes through the bedchamber as Drisk fills him.

A small pant escapes me, and I take a step forward, drawing Drisk’s bright eyes to me.

“Approach and see,” he invites, and I do not hesitate to close the distance between us.

I strangle on a moan as I find a spot that gives me a perfect view of Drisk’s thick, inhuman cock stretching the tight, clasping ring of Daghel’s hole. It grips and sucks upon the cock furiously as Drisk’s pelvis rocks back before slowly driving forward again, plunging to the hilt. I watch for several minutes in fascination, desire kindling and burning low within me as I imagine my cunt likewise stretched around him as I moan with the fullness and burn of it. But I’m also imagining Daghel helpless to my control, his cock engorged and leaking as it is now with every thrust from Drisk, but in my imagination I am the one to play with him. I pant as Drisk’s pace picks up and the wet slapping sounds fill the air. Licking my lips, I move away just enough to climb onto the bed just in front of Daghel to give me the most exquisite view of his desire.

The sight of his engorged cock hangs between his thighs, jerking and leaking, is a fine thing—even a little shocking giving that its girth and length more than rivals the wyvern’s which would normally give me pause if I were thinking clearly—but I love the view of Daghel’s face the most, his lips twisting in a grimace of pleasure and pain as I kneel in front of him. His dark eyes are hazy and drugged with pleasure as he peers up at me. Smiling down at him, I run one hand down the side of his face, tracing the strained muscles and the perfection of its structure with my fingertips.

“How pretty you are,” I murmur. “No squealing. No begging. Just raw sensation. You are so glorious riding it as Drisk pierces you with his huge prick.”

Heat flashes within the depths of his eyes, burning away much of the haze as his lips tilt into a grin.

“Do you like it so?” he rasps and then grunts as his body jerks and rocks with a sudden hard thrust from Drisk.

“So very much,” I assure him.

His grin widens and then suddenly he grips my arm and yanks me forward as he draws up onto his knees. Drisk makes a thrumming sound as he immediately adjusts his angle in response until Daghel is upright and I’m resting flush against his broad chest. I can practically feel Drisk’s vibration and every thrust rocking through him as he holds me close, accustoming me to the wyvern’s natural rhythm and the heat pouring off him.

Daghel’s dark growl fills my ears, and I gasp as I’m bent backward over his arm. Despite being rutted by the wyvern, he takes complete control as his hot tongue strokes a path down to my breasts. His tusks press in as his mouth encloses over my breast, drawing my nipples and half the breast itself into its wet heat. The pull there sends a hot trail down to my belly as he sucks on it and bathes my nipple with the whorl of his hot tongue with every tug. I shiver in reaction and then jerk with an explosion of pleasure-pain as his claws score my buttocks. He shakes against me as he curls my legs slowly one by one over his hips, his mouth and claws creating a tapestry of ecstasy over me. I’m certain that his teeth are piercing and scraping the sensitive flesh of my breasts as well, but the sensations mingle in a vortex as he transfers his attention from one breast to the other and back again until my cunt is a mess of dripping heat to welcome his cock as it glides along my folds.

Drisk’s hum grows louder, vibrating through us, entwining us together as Daghel’s bumpy tip with its odd hard little knob presses forward and begins to split me exquisitely upon it. His claws bite deeper as he sinks into me, drawing hot trickles of blood to run like delicate ribbons over my skin. I shake in ecstasy and sigh when his cock is fully sheathed, pressing tightly against my womb. He shudders within me, and I feel the first tiny spurt bathing my insides before he begins to shuttle in and out of me as if operated by the fingers of the cleverest of weavers. Tighter and tighter he spins and knots the threads of my pleasure as he begins to fuck me in earnest, his cock driving into me over and over until it finally surges forward and holds in place, spewing his release in a hot flood bursting within me.

My back arches and I cry out at the sensation, his cum a couple degrees hotter than that of men, so that I feel every stream of it hitting the mouth of my womb. His mouth covers mine, swallowing my scream as he continues to rock his release within me as Drisk grunts deeply and shakes with his own climax over Daghel. We vibrate together in bliss, and I feel the dark web of Drisk’s wing close around me.

“Give me a minute,” I pant, “and I will take Drisk.”

Daghel chuckles as Drisk’s click of laughter fills the chamber.

“And when you are well prepared and are ready to take both of us together, we will finally be one,” the wyvern promises in a dark whisper that sends an entirely different sort of shiver through me with the strange weight of meaning left unsaid and obscured within his words.