Page 127 of The Dragon Warlord

“Don’t touch the Warlord’s omega unless he’s hurt,” someone calls out.

“And definitely don’t flirt with him,” the dragon Warlord adds. He notices that I’ve taken my jacket off and set it where he commanded. “Lie there.”

He’s pointing to his red jacket. I hastily comply. From where he’s directed me, all I can see is him and he’s undressing. The first thing he does is kick off his boots and then he unlaces his pants, which are next to go. I catch sight of his long fat cock, which has purpled at the head, already leaking with pre-come. Wow, is that for me?

A predatory gleam dances in his eyes when he looks upon me. “Tell them, Omega.”

“I belong to the Warlord.”

“Oh, I think we can do better than that. I’m going to make you scream,” he says.

His shirt is last to go. He’s stripped bare, which means they can see the fresh marks Father carved onto his Warlord’s physique last night. As expected, several dragons in the crowd stand taller, impressed by the strength of their Warlord. Some of them nudge each other and nod their approval.

On his knees, above where I lie atop his jacket that’s been laid over red dirt, he pulls my boots off. His gaze is trained on me as I chance reaching up for a lock of his long hair. He’s beautiful and he’s mine as much as I’m his. I don’t expect the smile. It’s brilliant and dangerous. Gods, as if I wasn’t already so gone for this man.

My pants are gone, and my cock is out. Slick runs down my legs aplenty. There’s no foreplay, just him joining with me, thrusting his cock in to the hilt. I moan as he hisses. “What were you telling everyone?”

He fucks me slowly with explosive snaps of his hips and it’s agonizing. He’s learned the exact angle that drives me crazy and uses it to draw pained cries from me. “Yours. I’m yours, Alpha.”

Bending one of my legs opens me wider for him and he hits deeper with the head of his cock. The other hand plants beside my head so he can lean down to kiss me and swallow my cries. His heart pounds against my chest as mine races and sends my breathing out of control. I’m forced to gasp for breaths in between kisses.

“Need you, Omega,” he says. I love that he needs me too. We belong with each other and now everyone can see that.

I reach around to grab his arse so that I can feel powerful glute muscles squeeze in time with the fucking I’m getting. Groaning, I scream some more. In a way it’s fucking humiliating how desperate he has me already, but that only heightens the pleasure. We kiss until our lips are sore and swollen. I nip at him several times, leaving my own little marks on him, following my dragon instincts. He doesn’t stop me. He shudders with the pain of it, snarling and moaning at the same time.

Then he kneels up, yanking me toward him. His thrusts get faster and deeper, and I don’t know anything anymore, except who owns my fucking arse and that’s Tristan. Alpha. Warlord.

Lost to pleasure, I shout a symphony of “yours” and “please” and “fuck me harder, Alpha”. He’s relentless, allowing his dragon to rip free and use me hard. I can take it. I want it. I want all of him.

“You love being fucked by me.”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone can see how much you like it … how needy you are for Alpha.”

“Gods, yes.”

Savage teeth sink into the bite on my neck, and I let out an ear-shattering cry as my orgasm crashes into me like a sword at full speed. He growls, showing off his blood-stained lips while my arse clenches around him and he empties pearly dragon seed into my hole. He pulls out immediately so that I leak enough of his come for him to paint my flesh with it, drenching every bare inch. All the places he bit me pulsate and I’m proud to say that he’s not left unscathed. He’s got some nice marks on his neck where I sucked and poked my teeth around. He stands me up, bringing his jacket with me so that I’m covered.

“Any questions?”

“No, Warlord,” his warriors say.

“Good. The punishment will be severe if I am disobeyed. Come with us, ice dragon.”

The ice dragon trembles in the face of Tristan’s might. He’s only shared little bits about what the Wasteland beats did to him; it was horrific. Even Father has been treating him with care. I’m sure it doesn’t take much to scare the guy after that kind of trauma.

The Warlord picks up my jacket and swings it over his shoulder. Then he grabs our clothes and heads to the portal, expecting us to follow.

* * *

Back in his war room, he tosses my pants to me, and I step into them as he does the same. The ice dragon goes into a kneel. “No need for that, Leif.” I know that disappointed voice. He’s not angry anymore, but he no longer trusts the man. “Get up.”

Leif stands and hesitantly squares off, knowing that he’s driven a rift between them. “Warlord, I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ll of course accept any punishment you choose to give me with grace.”

“What did the healers say about your head?” he asks instead of addressing his transgression.

“It’s good news. I remembered something—someone, actually.”