Page 91 of Foundling

Leita had her way, working his cock in tandem with all her other caresses. Magic kissed his lips and tasted his tongue, swirling in his mouth. Magic nipped at his throat and collarbones while magic thumbed his nipples and feathered along his flanks. Magic twisted up with his tail, magic rimmed the bases of his horns, and magic pooled along his back between his wings. Magic fisted his cock and teased the head, finding a pace that worked his hips into their own hypnotizing rhythm.

The way his hips punched into the air with every stroke was obscene, and Leita couldn’t look away. Pressure gathered between her own legs, the throbbing following each and every upstroke of his cock spearing the empty air.

His great body undulated on the bed, his power behind every roll of his hips.

That could be her, she thought. That would be her.

But first…

She released the vice on his cockhead and gave the shaft a final firm pump. He arched off the bed, wings beating the blankets, tail lashing. His cock erupted in spend, bollocks pulsing on her command. Her magic slid up and down the shaft, claiming every drop of spend, milking him for more. On and on he gave it to her, abdomen flexing and hips thrusting.

When the clutches of pleasure finally released him, Attalus fell back on the bed with a whumph, his chest sinking as all the breath fled him.

He watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she gathered his spend, letting it hover above her open hand in an orb. The compulsion might’ve been strange, but she couldn’t help it—Leita dipped a finger into the sphere to taste him.

Attalus shuddered. “Will that do, my Queen?”

Casting the ball into a bowl behind her, Leita said, “Again.”

A choked laugh escaped him, but her dragon was nothing if not accommodating. He let her play and practice long into the night, claiming what was hers as he crooned to her.

But there came a time when standing, watching wasn’t enough.

She truly did surprise him when, after working him up to another orgasm but then denying him, Leita gathered the silky skirts of her nightclothes and stepped up onto the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. Then she climbed onto the bed itself, walking atop it to straddle him.

Attalus’s pupils dilated, the black nearly eclipsing the gold, and he smiled wickedly from below her.

Still holding her skirts, Leita descended, holding him perfectly erect and still.

“Leita, are you—?” He hissed to feel the hot burn of her weeping cunt kiss his cockhead.

Oh, she was more than ready to take him. To claim what was hers.

Slick from his spend and wet with her own desire, she welcomed him inside her body. His cockhead, the ridges, the piercing, they all slipped inside.

Leita shivered, assailed by so many sensations. It’d been so long since…

She lay her palms flat on the expanse of his chest to steady herself. Finding her balance, she let her hips fall down, down, down.

A triumphant sound caught in her throat. Leita had mounted her dragon.

His smile was vicious and so totally, utterly proud. In her distraction, he’d managed to flex his arms, elbows framing his head, and bend his knees to support her on his lap.

“Not many are brave enough to ride a dragon,” he purred, voice gone husky.

Leita chuckled. “Not many dragons are willing to be tamed.”

A warm hum reverberated through his chest, and Leita felt it under her hands and deep inside her. She gasped at the sensation, and Attalus crooned again.

His hips began the gentlest rocking, sparking a subtle friction. Leita moaned, fingers clenching on his chest.

“You hold my leash in one hand,” he rumbled, “and my hearts in the other.”

Her nails bit into his scales, and Leita’s hips snapped down onto his in a fierce downstroke. Power surged inside her to feel how he groaned and shuddered in pleasure, too. To do that to him with magic was gratifying—with her own body and movements, now that was intoxicating.

Once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. Leita rolled her hips, chasing down her pleasure, and the bed rocked beneath them. Attalus met her on each downstroke, thrusting up inside to push impossibly deep. That piercing scraped inside her in a delicious slide that made her lose her mind. She felt him in her belly, in her blood, in her heart.

It wasn’t magic that filled every pore and vessel—it was pure, terrifying, wonderful happiness. She overflowed with it, so much that her orgasm went on and on, so long she thought she might faint. So much pleasure, so much happiness was almost painful, seizing at Leita’s chest.