Page 27

Chapter

Twenty-Six

DRISK

“ D o you know how to make those big straw dolls?” our wyva asks Daghel as she glances up from straightening the fabric skirts around the tree that she insisted that I find and carry back to the rookery.

Her cheeks are still bright pink from the icy air from our latest rounds, but her spirits are high, and she seems to be suffering no ill effects from the freezing weather. I am pleased that we could find what she wanted. Although evergreens are found everywhere in the Cold Mountains, including Fang Peaks, most are little more than bushes, their growth stunted by the frigid temperatures and the brutal length of the winters. It took several days of going out on our sweeps before we were in the right part of the mountains to find her precious evergreens trees but now that we have it in our rookery, I cannot feel as if it was a ridiculous waste of effort and time when she looks so pleased with it.

She smiles brightly as she brings out the box filled with little ornaments that she’s been making the last several evenings and sets it on the floor between her and Daghel. Her eyebrows creep upward as her question goes unanswered until Daghel finally takes notice and nods.

“The thanika. They are not difficult to make, though there are those in the villages who specialize in such things and can do much better designs than I can create.” He raises one white eyebrow at her, his head slightly. “Do you wish for a pair of thanika, wyva?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy if you have the time to make them, but I think it would be a nice addition for our rookery,” she agrees.

Daghel glances around, taking in the tree and the various bits of décor hanging made garlands of evergreen boughs, nuts, berries, ribbon, and bits of glass and metal. Truthfully, it is not as grand as what can be found in the lower villages, but that is to be expected, considering that Vorn forbids such decoration to be made by the workshops in the upper village.

He nods thoughtfully. “It could be managed. I will go down to the outskirts of Shendra Pass and get some straw bales from the village there. It is one of the clan’s biggest farming villages, and they often supply plenty of straw for all those who need or want it. We just merely return it after Gehl for feed and bedding for their animals,” he replies and then smiles with true pleasure as Anya stands on her toe and drags his head to press a kiss against his cheek.

Dropping to the flat of her feet, our wyva grins and bends down to lift the lid from the box, reveals the numerous ornaments. She plucks an ornament from it and carries it over to the tree to place it on one of the slender branches filled with small prickly leaves. Daghel’s eyes follow her and settle on the ornament for a long moment before he too bends to pick an ornament from the box. They work together, hanging each delicate ornament on the tree’s boughs one by one. I ought to feel a little excluded since this activity requires far more nimbleness than my hands possess but I find instead that I’m enjoying the festivity of the atmosphere as they work, especially since she hums to herself to herself as she hangs the ornaments, and the sound washes over me in a pleasing embrace.

“What do you sing?” I ask her, my eyes dropping half-mast as a sense of peace settles within me, quieting the voraciousness of the flames within me.

She glances back at me over her shoulder and laughs softly before turning back to her work, hanging some little sparkly thing made of twisted bits of metal that she acquired from the blacksmith, if I am not mistaken.

“It is just an old Yulen song that children often sing,” she replies and clears her throat as she glances back at me awkwardly. “I do not have the best singing voice. While some courtesans have such talents with which they can amuse their guests, I was never one of them. My talents lie… elsewhere,” she adds with a laugh. “But I can perhaps sing a few bars for you, if you do not laugh too hard,” she adds with a teasing smile.

“And you can demonstrate your own talents later,” I purr, drawing a burst of laughter from our mate. Even Daghel chuckles reluctantly at my comments, which is a rarity that I treasure and decidedly savor.

“Whatever you decide to gift us with, we would never laugh,” Daghel assures her as he reaches over to take a dainty bit of colored glass that she tirelessly bore a hole through to string it with a bit of ribbon. He lifts it and a small smile curls the corners of his mouth in admiration before placing it on a branch of the tree.

My pleasure curls within me at his happiness so that the tiniest puff of smoke drifts from my mouth. If I did not already adore our wyva with every part of being, just seeing how much happiness she brought my solemn bonded male would have conquered me.

“Sing for us,” I insist with a little musical hum of my own that makes her smile widen.

“Very well,” she says with a little laugh and clears her throat again.

“Gods bless ye merry, kindly folk

May peace greet your day

Let all the gifts of Yulen come

With what sweetness that it may.

It comes like a golden power

Brightening all that’s gray.

O may it bring joy to us all

Joy to us all

O may it ever bring joy to us all.”

A deep, content happiness curls through me and the tip of my tail hooks contently in response. Now that I have the melody, I begin to languidly hum along with her, my tail curling and uncurling as she and Daghel steadily add their little ornaments to the tree amid with strings of red berries and garlands of woven fabric—scraps that she got from Linahna.

Another storm has risen out of nowhere, which makes me additionally thankful that this is our rest rotation. Although the winds have died down, the snow persists to fall in fat snowflakes that are rapidly accumulating over every surface of the palace peak and upper village. It is far better for her to be here beside the rookery’s main fire, where she can keep warm.

“Linahna should be here soon,” she says absently as she adjusts a little ornament sewn made of fabric and stuffed with fleece. “She is dropping something off as a favor to me.”

Daghel glances at her curiously but grunts in acknowledgment. However, I do not miss the secretive little smile that teases her lips. Interesting.

The tree comes together quickly, and I must admit that, looking upon it, it is a fine thing. Daghel and Anya step back to join me at my side so that we may admire it together.

“Perhaps… it is not so ridiculous,” I admit. “If you insist on dragging a tree into our rookery every Gehl, it would be worth the annoyance.”

“How sweet of you,” Anya replies, her face scrunching up with amusement and I just adore every little fine line around her eyes and mouth as this speaks to me of our mate’s happiness. She sighs and her eyes sparkle with the firelight reflected off the little pieces of colored glass. “I’ve always wanted a Yulen tree.”

“Then you shall always have one,” Daghel replies and I chirp my agreement as the male curls his arms around her, hugging her to his side.

It is a perfect moment and I am about to suggest that Daghel go into the palace to locate some mulled wine for us—even if it does irritate the fires just a little for wyverns—so that we can drink, make merry, and carry out our prepared gift for our female, a true mating as we both take her and bathe her in our fires. An itch of excitement runs over my scales but a knock at the door interrupts the mood. Linahna… already.

Grumbling surlily, I sprawl on the floor and glower toward the entrance, letting my displeasure be known as Anya disappears and then quickly returns with Linahna in tow, the latter laughing at our mate’s exuberance as she carries a large, colorfully wrapped box with her free arm with a bottle tucked into the crook of her elbow. Her smile widens unrepentantly as her gaze falls on me and then shifts to Daghel, who stands a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest. I am not the only one annoyed by the interruption. I am certain that he told her of our intention to mate with our wyva tonight. That the female gives us an evil spice and cheery wave when Anya releases her hand upon entering the common room chafes.

What is this female up to? What is Anya up to? My gaze narrows suspiciously on the pair of them before falling slowly back to the box. What is that? The favor that Anya mentioned?

Anya frowns at us with disapproval before turning a smile of chagrin to Linahna. “I’m so sorry about this reception. I did warn them that you were coming.”

“It is fine,” Linahna assures her. “As it happens, I cannot stay, but I did say that I would bring this by for you, so I am just dropping it off.” She hands the colorful box to Anya. “And this,” she adds as she also hands her the bottle, which our female immediately passes to Daghel.

“Are you certain you did not want to stay? At least share a drink with us,” Anya insists, but the princess shakes her head, her eyes sparkling mirthfully.

“I would like to,” she drawls, making my scales prickle angrily, “but no. Not this eve. As it happens, I was invited to another village for some merriment for Gehl, and it will be a relief to get away from all the gloom of the palace and upper village. But your rookery is spectacular,” she admits with a note of admiration in her voice.

That softens some of my hostility. At least the female has some taste, even if she is unpleasantly devious.

“Oh, well, that is a different matter then,” Anya says. “We went to Glas Village, and it was truly beautiful. We had such a good time. You can just join us another time. You will be missed, of course.”

“Oh, I am certain you will survive without me,” Linahna teases. “But I will check in with you tomorrow for all the details,” she says as she leans in and brushes a kiss on Anya’s cheek. “Be sure to do everything that I would not do,” she teases.

Giving Anya’s arm a fond pat, she turns and struts to the door, winking slyly at us as she passes. “Happy Gehl, you all,” she purrs before slipping out the door, leaving us alone with our wyva.

I glance down at the gift left on the stuffed sitting bench. Curious, I prowl over to it and tap the box with one claw. The package is so overdone with the costly fabric wrapping it that it strikes me as exactly what an elf would come up with. Humans clearly did not improve at all on the tradition’s garishness. It is a strange custom overall. However, what strikes me as even stranger is that Anya did not immediately stuff it under her Yulen tree as she explained is done. Instead, it is left here, teasing us. Even Daghel is peering at it curiously, though his expression is as impassive as ever. It is clear that neither of us knows what to expect. Among the orcs gifts are given spontaneously through the twelve-day festival, little tokens of affection, and among wyverns… well… our gifts are the same gift we give for everything—a good rutting to ring in the holiday.

“Is this… for us?” I query, and our wyva claps her hands together with a laugh of delight.

“Yes! I’ve been waiting patiently forever for it to be ready and Linahna sent me a message this morning. Happy Gehl!”

I glance over at Daghel and nudge the gift with my claws in his direction. I am too nervous to open it with my limited dexterity. My bonded male gives me an understanding look and unties the ribbon that holds the fabric snuggling tucked into place. It all falls away to reveal a box stained black with brass metal fittings. With a flick of a claw, he releases the latch and opens it. We stare down at the contents together and I chirp softly in wonder as he reaches into it and withdraws a long lash with several woven tails at its tip. He glances over at our mate, an eyebrow rising.

“What is this, wyva?”

“A box of pleasures,” she replies in a sultry voice.

“Pleasures,” the orc rumbles, his voice deepening with interest as he sets the lash aside and reaches in again to withdraw a large phallus hooked to an unmistakable strap. “I have an idea of what pleasures can be had with this. I would be delighted to make you scream.”

“That’s sweet,” she replies as she gently plucks it from his fingers and sets it aside. “But later. As it happens, the box of pleasures itself is not your only gift. The actual gift is so much more than this.”

“More?” Daghel echoes with interest.

“Oh yes, but first… let’s take this to the bedchamber,” she says as she picks up the lash and phallus, depositing the latter into the box. She points at it with the lash and smiles. “Don’t forget the box.”

There is no objection there. That was exactly where our festivities were to go, anyway. I continue to chirp with delight as Daghel scoops up to the box and we follow our female down the corridor. She turns in the center of our bedchamber to watch us enter and gestures to the bed with the lash.

“Put the box on the floor,” she commands, her eyes following him as he carefully lowers it to the stone floor. Her lips quirk in response. “Good. Now, take off your clothes and get on your knees.”

Daghel eyes her impassively for a moment but then smirks and quickly sheds his tunic and surc. Anya’s smile widens and her hands go to her simple shift to untie the ribbons keeping it together. The warm layers to drop the floor as she undoes each one and hunger stirs within me as I watch my gift slowly be unwrapped. It is perfection and when the firelight touches her skin, giving it a warm glow, I want to skip the preamble and go straight to giving her my fires now. It is only my intrigue with what she has planned that keeps me in place as she prowls toward the bed where Daghel kneels, his eyes tracking her movements with predatory intensity as she stalks over to where he is kneeling.

She drags the lash along his shoulders and chest, and I watch with interest as his flesh quivers in response. Flicking it against his chest, she draws a soft rumble of pleasure from the male as a bright mark streaks across his chest. Anya smiles and traces patterns over his skin before flicking him again and again, each at unexpected intervals so that his muscles clench with anticipation and his cock swells with desire. She slides it over his straining length, her toes brushing against his sack so that they cradle the root of his phallus. She rubs her foot gently on the underside of his shaft, making him growl in pleasure, a sound that breaks into a loud moan when she gently flicks the lash against the tip of his cock.

“Good,” she murmurs. “You are doing so well. Perhaps a reward, yes?” Placing her hand at the top of his head, she widens her stance as she pushes him down, bringing her beautiful cunt close his face. She widens her stance, firmly settling her foot against his cock and gently rocks her weight, pressing her slick folds close to his mouth and nose. I stare with fascination, salivating with my hunger as Daghel’s nostrils flare. “Taste me,” she purrs.

Daghel growls with desire and his long tongue slips from his mouth to slick over her slit. She sucks in a breath and his growl deepens as his powerful arms curl around her to grasp her ass, holding her in place, his tusks spreading her folds as his mouth seals against her. A cry of need rises from our wyva and she grinds her pretty cunt against his mouth as her foot rubs against his cock. She punctuates the pleasure of my bonded with intermittent flicks of the lash that she continues to trace over him as she surrenders to the haze of her desire.

Her moans fill the bedchamber and my cock swells lustfully within my sheath, her hips canting in rhythm with every stroke of her foot again Daghel’s cock. Every so often she presses down against it with a fraction of her weight, making the male snarl, delirious with his desire. With every touch, his moans are drawn steadily from him, muffled against her cunt. All the while he works against her sweet flesh, lapping and sucking at her sex with boiling need.

“Such a perfect mouth,” she moans as his tongue delves into the hot clasp of her sex, making her tilt her head back with a short gasp. “So good.”

She shivers and shakes against him, crying out as her release spills over his lips. He growls and swallows as his mouth turns ravenous in response until she drops the lash to clutch at his head as she rides out the storm of her pleasure. Eventually, she pulls away with a jerk, her thighs damp with her release and her chest heaving as she pants and stares at him with a smile pulling at her lips.

“That was… amazing,” she confesses. Her hand shakes as she lifts it and brushes her hair from her face, but she turns to the box and removes the phallus, its straps dangling as she peers at it thoughtfully and holds it aloft in front of us.

Daghel’s brow rises. “Are we finished?”

She laughs softly. “Hardly.”

I watch with fascination as she loosens the straps and slides them over her plump thighs before tightening them firmly into place. The large phallus protrudes from between her thighs and she gives it a leisurely stroke as her gaze fastens once more on my bonded male’s face.

“Back in the day my clients would beg for me to allow them to suck on my toys,” she murmurs as she begins to circle around Daghel, her every step perfectly measured and her gaze pinned on him with such focus that my cock twitches hard within my sheath with definite interest. She stops in front of him and leans forward, her lush breasts swaying as she looks him right in the eye and smirks. “But for you… I think I have a far better idea.”

Ah, my lusty heroine of my dreams. I cackle my little clicks and my wings fan eagerly, though I am careful to keep them from colliding against anything in our bedchamber.

Daghel cooly meets her eyes, but I can taste his excited musk rising to perfume the air. His ardor for our mate is an all-consuming love and hunger churning together in a vortex that I can feel trembling within the quick of me.

“Suck our wyvern’s cock, orc,” she commands, and my wings flare just slightly in surprise as I cast an uncertain look toward my bonded male.

As frequently as I rut him, and often violently, service of this sort has never entered into our dynamic. Nor is it a part of most wyvern-orc dynamics that I have heard of. There is no way to predict how Daghel will instinctively react to such an order.

“Perhaps we should not—” I begin, but am silenced by a sharp look from our wyva .

“Did I ask you?” she replies and my cock jerks excitedly within my sheath as a chirp of delight at her power and command rushes unbidden from my chest. Her gaze turns sternly toward Daghel and imperiously arches an eyebrow. “Well?”

He meets her gaze, his cold, hard expression giving nothing away. I am certain that he will reject her little game, but to my surprise, he coolly nods in agreement. Excitement fills me and I begin to croon softly as I climb onto the bed and recline, stretching out as I feel my prick slowly slip from its sheath. Anya’s eyes settle on it and her pupils expand even as her eyes brighten with an unmistakable heat that only a blind wyvern would fail to see.

Daghel turns toward me and climbs onto the bed beside me. My eyes follow his every movement, and I nearly stop breathing as his hand curls around my prick. His flesh is cooler than mine by a couple degrees so that I shiver with pleasure and gasp when his mouth closes around me. Daghel’s tusks perfectly cradle my shaft, gliding against my length as he sucks me deeply into his mouth. His sharp teeth tease my scales so that I gasp as the first shot of cum works swiftly up my shaft to spray over his tongue. He sucks harder in response, his head bobbing, working my prick in and out of the tight, hot clasp of his mouth. I grunt and gently pump my hips, thrusting into his mouth with every drop of his head.

There is a wet sound and my gaze lifts to where Anya is coating the shaft of her leather phallus with some kind of oil. She smiles approvingly at me and gives me a playful wink. I moan, my right wing fanning slightly as my claws come down on his head, holding him in place around my prick as she lines up behind him and rubs the tip of the large cock against his ass. His bottom flexes, his skin jumping a little in response, but he moans loudly around my cock and my eyes roll black with the intense pleasure of the vibrations. Her smile widens, and she clenches the globes of his tightly in her hands, her nails biting into his tough skin until his cock jumps and he growls with pleasure around me. My fires lick through me and rise, spilling down around the root of my cock, filling it further.

Spreading him wide, she notches the tip of her cock against his ass while curling one hand around him to grip the thick base of his cock. Holding his shaft tightly, she drags her hand down his length as she presses into him with one long, hard stroke. Pre-cum dribbles from his dip and my cock pulses as he drags on my cock harder and faster.

Anya pumps in and out of him, her body rocking hard and fast as she runs her heavily lubricated hand up and down his cock. Daghel moves with her as much as he can with my claw on his head, his moans rising through the chamber mingling with my own hisses of pleasure. Anya’s smile just gets wider and wider as she quickens her pace, her hips slapping his thighs with another force to drive his mouth onto my cock. His tongue teases my ridges as he sucks, and plies at my slit as he attempts to work out another stream of release. I can feel it boiling at the root of my cock. My fire flares brighter and my cock gets harder as my cum rises into it. I pant eagerly as I rut his mouth. His own cock is rigid and leaking within Anya's grasp, straining within her hold. I watch it hungrily, wanting him to climax—needing it as our female slams into him from behind.

Then it happens. Daghel’s muffled howl swallows my cock, vibrating all around it a long shout and scrape of his teeth that snaps the tension coiled through me. I roar as my cock spurts within his mouth and his own cock spits its own release in heavy streams in front of him. It is only when the last of our seed is drained that Anya steps back and allows her phallus to slip from its tight fit in his ass. Daghel’s mouth still gently sucks at my tip, drawing up the last bit before slipping up with a sly smile.

“Enjoy that, wyvern?” he rumbles in jest, and I grunt as I collapse on the bed.

“Oh, we aren’t done yet,” Anya says with a soft laugh. “There is something I really want to try ever since I’ve seen what your strands can do. Daghel, climb up onto Drisk’s back and lie flat. Drisk, hold on to him and… connect.”

Despite my recent release, my interest stirs at her words. Connect while they are fucking. I do enjoy that. It would be a good appetizer while I recover for the main event. I grin with delight and stretch on my belly. Daghel gives our female an amused look but readily climbs onto my back and rolls, settling flat against me. It only takes a moment of contact for my strands to respond. They slide quickly over his body, wrapping tightly around him, binding him completely with his arms and torso held against me as others burrow up into the clench of his ass and around his shaft before diving into its tip. He gasps and growls in reaction, his cock stiffening rapidly within the grasp of my strand, but his pleasure swamps over me with a hot blast that makes me croon as heat crawls back into my prick.

I close my eyes with pleasure and hiss, my scales quivering, as I feel Anya’s small, bare feet on me as she, too, climbs onto my back. Her soft sigh and the heat of her cunt sliding over and swallowing Daghel’s cock ripples through me. My strands snap up in response, coiling around her and anchoring her to Daghel and me both as they drive into her both ass and cunt, wiggling around my bonded male’s cock as it finds a perfect little soft spot onto which to latch. Her pleasure is sweeter, and my claws kneed the furs, scraping with pleasure as her body begins to rock and bounce against the restraint of my strands.

They moan together and more of my strands slide over them, working their way over their bodies to slide over their eyes in a blinding mask as others dive into their parted mouth, muffling all sound. They are a part of me, breathing with me as they fuck, as Anya’s hips lift and drop, grinding on Daghel, sending a frenzy through me—through us. Fire gathers in my mouth and my cock extrudes anew, leaking all over the furs as I claw the bed with the ecstasy rushing through me. I keep Daghel’s cock plugged with my strand, holding back his release for as long as possible so that Anya continues to ride him as her climaxes trip through her.

When she grows tired, I move my strands, helping her ride the orc as a pattern of our pleasure and need twists through me; pleasures mingling together, twisting tighter and tighter with me until my cock is fully engorged and trembling with the need to spill. With a growl, I rip my strand from inside Daghel’s cock and allow his release to boil out of him in heavy, thick sprays into our mate. His roar of completion as her cunt spasms tightly and viciously around him is muffled by my strands, but nothing blocks my bellow as flames shoot from my mouth, blackening the opposite wall.

I slowly come down from my climax, my strands unraveling slowly from their mouths and faces to retreat from their bodies. I am preparing to withdraw the one from Anya’s cunt when I pause at a flutter of sensation. I follow it with my senses until I find it. A pup tucked safely in her womb. Shadows drift around it, grazing it as the darkness, too, seems to realize that it is there and brushes over it briefly before retreating. I hiss low and then withdraw my strand slowly from her body.

Anya groans as she drops from my back, her legs shaking as she stumbles from me toward the edge of the bed. Daghel rumbles in her wake as he, too, drops from my back. He kneels at my side for a moment, dragging in deep breaths. I am surprised to see that his cock is still swollen with need, its length an angry blue. He bares his teeth with a savage hunger as he stares at her plump ass as she stagers away from us in an effort to collect herself.

“Where are you going?” Daghel rumbles as he straightens, drawing Anya’s shocked gaze back to him. I chirp with excitement, my cock still hard and aching. A dark smile teases his lips, which gives me pause as I see something shift behind his eyes as the darkness brushes through him. How long has it been there? I am beginning to suspect that it has been touching him all along. I remain still, watching. Daghel is still in control, so I do not bring a halt to this new game. What he does here must be fully his decision. “You have given us our gift, but we have yet to give you ours. On all fours, wyva ,” he purrs, making my cock jump eagerly.

She glances at us uncertainly, but she drops to her knees on the bed and slowly leans forward, putting her hand on the mattress. Daghel draws his claws along her ass, making her shiver as he peers down into her box and withdraws something long that is shaped like a phallus but without the defined shape or a base to be fitted into the harness. Daghel drags it back and forth across her sopping cunt and I savor the little sounds she makes as her musk thickens once more to perfume the air. With one long, slow stroke, he presses the phallus deep, working in and out of her cunt. It squelches loudly, his seed dribbling from around it. His gaze grows hotter as he watches it spill from her, and he leisurely drags it from her cunt to press its slick tip against her ass. With excruciating care, he works slowly into her ass. Although we both know that she likely had this part of her penetrated given her history, he still demonstrates tenderness in this task, working it in and out of her until she is gasping, and her toes are curling with every thrust. He doesn’t let up until she is shaking in the hold of another orgasm, and only then does he keep it buried within her as she spasms around it.

Holding it in place, he peers down at her thoughtfully, a shadow of darkness shifting once more behind his eyes. He smiles then and withdraws it to its tip as he lines his cock up with her dripping cunt. Gripping her hip firmly with one hand, he drags her ass toward him as he thrusts forward in one hard snap of his hips. She whimpers, her fragile human body shivering, but a moan falls from her lips as he works the phallus back into her ass until she is thoroughly plugged. I croon softly, delighted with how easily she takes them. This will make things much easier. He withdraws his prick from the clasp of her cunt, pressing deeper with the phallus, only to pull it back as he rams his cock back into her depths. His hips flex, driving his cock in alternating thrusts in counterpoint to the leather shaft as he thrusts that into her as well. Her fingers cling to the furs, her moans becoming louder until they break into wails as Daghel’s thrusts faster to where her breasts are jiggling in a frenzied dance to the rapid bounce of his pelvis against her ass.

He growls, his eyes sliding shut for a moment as he drifts with the pleasure as he ruts her, their bodies slamming together in a frenzy. Her cunt creams around his shaft, her cries growing louder and louder, but then his hand tightens on her hip and he stops, his cock buried completely in her as she climaxes around him with a shriek. He shudders over and over, his growl a continuous rumble in his chest as his cock visibly throbs at its root and pumps his seed deep into her. Eventually, his eyes open and they burn with cold fire as he glances over at me, his lips curling in a sly smile. At length the dark fire withdraws from his eyes, and they flutter closed for a second as another shudder runs through him. He withdraws the leather cock from her ass and tosses it aside as he pulls his prick from her body with a ragged gasp. His hand grips her at the back of the neck and he nudges her bottom with his knee.

“To the floor now. You are ready,” he rasps.

“Why the floor?” Anya looks over at him warily, but she follows him to the floor only to stare at him when he lies on the cold stone and pulls her down on top of him.

“When Drisk flames—and he will—it is better if it is on the floor than our bed,” he replies with a wry chuckle and nods toward the charred wall.

I grimace at the black stain. It is not often that I lose control. But in this particular case, it is necessary. When I give her my flame, it is better that there is nothing flammable beneath us.

“Flames?” An uneasy look flashes across her face and she glances over at me as realization dawns that she will have me filling her ass where once her little plaything filled her. There is a flicker of doubt, but her jaw hardens, and she nods as she straddles his rigid cock.

Even after climaxing as much as he has, his cock is swollen with his mating rut, so Anya’s cunt has no trouble swallowing him in one easy glide. She rocks experimentally on it to reawaken her own pleasure and need before she sinks down with a sigh, her lush body covering him as his arms wrap tightly around her, pinning her in place. He flexes his hips, working his cock in shallow little thrusts and growls low in his throat.

“Join us now, Drisk,” he pants, and I readily drop from the bed and prowl over to where they lie on the floor.

Our female looks like a decadent morsel with her ass lifted into the air. I want a taste so bad that I lower my muzzle and drag it from her ass to where her slit is wrapped tightly around my bonded male’s prick. I stroke my tongue along the connection point between their bodies, enjoying their little gasps and moans as I stroke and flick my tongue, enjoying their mingled flavors. Tipping my head just a little, I wiggle my long, tapered tongue against her slit, pressing it alongside his shaft as I penetrate her with it, savoring her taste as my tongue curls deep inside of her. I work it in and out of her and am rewarded when she climaxes, spraying her sweet essence into my mouth. It is like nectar of the gods! I could be content to remain buried in such a fashion, dragging my tongue in and out of her for quite some time, but Daghel’s cock jerk in warning against it, reminding me of our purpose.

I grumble but withdraw my tongue, enjoying the snug pull of her channel around it and Daghel’s cock. It is a sensation he also clearly enjoys since he hisses between his teeth with pleasure, but he gives me an annoyed look over Anya’s shoulder. I bare my teeth in a grin, but I adjust my arm-wings as I take my place, my feet planted at either side of Daghel’s legs and my claws dropping on either side of my mates, pressing my wings firmly against the floor. My slick cock grazes Anya’s ass and she shivers in reaction so that I chirp happily and rest more confidently behind her as the tip of my cock notches at her tight ass.

Bracing my weight, I press forward. I take my time, enjoying every whimper from her as Daghel moans in response to the pressure of my cock tightly rubbing against his, separated only by a thin wall of inner flesh.

Oh, this is very nice. I must insist on doing this often in the future.

Flames lick over my tongue as I withdraw shallowly before pressing in a hard, abrupt thrust back into her clenching hole. Anya makes a strangled sound, but it is all pleasure, and I growl as I do it again. And again. My pace quickens as I get into a rhythm and Daghel rocks his hip in tiny shallow thrusts at counterpoint. The feeling is delicious. A shudder rushes over me and my cock swells and spasms deep with her as she flexes instinctively around me. My claws hook against the store floor as I thrust, her hot ass clenching tightly around me. And she is loud, our wyva , as all of her perfect control shatters as we penetrate her. Her mouth gapes as she gasps and cries out with every thrust. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine that I am breeding her. I grunt as I thrust harder, my hips snapping with the build of pleasure rising within me. I stroke into her long and hard as Daghel bounces, his ass lifting to thrust up into her from his position on the bottom. Flames rise from within the pit of me, drawing higher with every thrust and every rippling squeeze of her body around me as she wails her pleasure.

Daghel’s prick flexes, pressing its heavily engorged length hard against mine. His hips begin jerking to drive his cock faster and harder into her, riding the wave of his impending climax. I grind against it, flames filling my mouth once again as I drive my cock into her repeatedly, working myself into a frenzy.

It is coming. I feel the bright, hot glow of my mating flames rising from deep behind my gonads as it makes a scorching path up through my body. My internal testicles pulse and draw tighter as deep spasming takes hold over me. My prick hardens further as the blood vessels swell to their maximum. Daghel comes with a roar, his cock shuttling in and out of her furiously, tipping me over the edge of pleasure. My senses plunge into ecstasy as the fire erupts, spewing in rivers everywhere as Anya screams and screams, her height of ecstasy making her appear as a goddess as she wrenches back from Daghel’s hold, her back arching exquisitely as she reaches back to grip the smallest horn toward the end of my muzzle as she rides and soars through her bliss, remade.

Our wyva. My wyva. She is now ours, reborn in wyvern’s fire, mated and claimed.