Her Dragon Captor (Her Dragon King Duet Book 1): 50 Loving States, North Dakota Pt. 1

by Theodora Taylor

  “Truly, Reverence,” he answers. “I no longer care about myself, my subjects, my home planet even. You and our hatchling are my entire world, and the only future I want.”

  Okay…okay…I’m trying to stay a cynical bitch here. I’m trying to be the bad-ass queen I was raised to be. But I’ve still got adrenaline going from all the attempted murder and running away and flying through the air. And the way he’s looking down at me under the three-quarters moon, his head bent so low, like there’s truly nothing more important than me in his entire world.

  No one’s ever looked at me like that before.

  Suddenly I’m grabbing on to him with both hands. Pulling his face down to mine. Kissing him. And not just a little thank you peck for saving me from the Deliverance hunters either.

  This is me, the wolf queen, claiming him, the dragon king, with my mouth. Invading with my tongue and demanding that he take what I have to give with a kiss.

  And after a shocked moment, Damianos kisses me back, his beard scraping into my face as he devours me.

  Chapter Thirty

  Things catch fire pretty quickly from there.

  He picks me up in his arms, there’s some door sliding and some stair climbing, then some laying me down like I’m a delicate crystal on his extremely large bed.

  Seriously, who paid for all the custom furniture in here? I know that wasn’t in the original budget!

  But all questions about paperwork blank out of my mind when the two dicks suddenly descend from his webbed stomach, dropping right on down, like “hello again.”

  And yes, the second one is still squirming.

  “What exactly is the purpose of that secondary dick?” I ask, my voice cracking on the question.

  “A drakki’s female works are much different from yours. She has several entrances into her womb, and a few of them are quite hard to find,” he answers.

  Okay, well that explanation just put some interesting images into my head. And it doesn’t settle my mind at all.

  “You have no reason to fear it, Reverence. I will keep it lodged into the bottom of your female works as I did the last time we mated.”

  The last night of my heat flashes into my memory. The shame, the degradation, but also the amazing orgasm when I came on his dick.

  “Why has your flame turned to embarrassment, Reverence?” The question appears inside my head, overlapping the memory.

  And maybe that’s why I find myself telling him the truth. “I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed because I actually enjoyed sex with you. Having both of the dicks at the top and bottom of my pussy. Fucking you in general. My heat’s totally done, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

  He considers my words for a long hot moment, both dicks pulsing hard.

  Then he says, “You have made this confession, so I will make one as well. I am ashamed too, Reverence. What you said before about me being a 15,000-year-old virgin. Well, I am older than that. But the other label is true. I was a virgin the same as you when your heat started. When I sat in that chair and made you come to me it was more about pride than humiliation. Male wolves, including the basketball player I bid to date you, most often have sex before their first heat session. But drakkon do not have such instincts until their male works drop for a female they are sexually compatible with. You are the only female who has ever made my reproductive organs respond in such a manner. I was…confused about that, but mostly I did not want to hurt you with my ignorance.”

  My eyes are two saucers by the time he’s done.

  “I have shocked you into speechlessness.” He looks away from me, his giant body going stiff, and I can feel his shame radiating over our mate bond. “If you no longer wish to mate with me outside of your heat, I understand.”

  I know he’s a dragon. And an alien on top of that. But there’s something so human about him in this moment. I reach out and press a hand into his bearded cheek to get him to face me. “Hey, you look at me now.”

  His glowing gaze lifts back up to mine.

  “Since we’re both coming in awkward to this sex stuff, how about we figure it out together. Okay?”

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “You honor me with your offer,” he answers. “Okay.”

  “Alright then.” I get on my hands and knees and smile over my shoulder at him. “Let’s try this again. From the top.”

  I’m trying to be funny, yet it feels like the most serious thing I’ve ever said.

  I don’t know what I’m doing. Or why I’m doing it. Or how it’s all going to turn out.

  But as he tentatively lines up behind me, a new truth settles over my heart.

  Something changed between us tonight. This new leaf of Damianos still feels too good to be true, but starting right now, I’m going to stop questioning it.

  No more putting all my energy into planning another getaway. No more running. I’m here. And I’m going to stay here until something takes away this new feeling forming in my chest.

  I don’t know how. And I couldn’t say why if anybody asked me to explain it.

  But right here, right now?

  I’m totally his.

  “Let’s do this,” I tell him out loud.

  “Yes, let’s.”

  We’re both good and rarin’ to go, but unfortunately, I find out in the next moment that enthusiasm isn’t all you need to pull off good, or even halfway decent sex.

  I suddenly realize how extremely large he is when he starts to push in. And without my heat obliterating all considerations for emotional and physical comfort, my body seizes up like “Nerp! Not happening!”

  He barely gets the tip in before I’m crying out, “Ouch…stop…stop. Please stop!”

  He immediately stops behind me.

  “Reverence, forgive me. I can see by the way your flame burns with discomfort that I am too large to fit inside of you. Without your mating heat, your female works will no longer grant me entry.”

  He pulls the tip out of me, and can you believe my wolf has the nerve to cry out? I wouldn’t call the girl a pain slut, but she definitely doesn’t care how much it hurts, as long as she’s being claimed.

  I flip over, and it feels like I’m addressing both him and her, when I say, “Yeah, we’ve got some size issues, but I’m pretty sure, this is what foreplay was invented for.”

  “Foreplay,” he repeats, tilting his head.

  I tilt my own damn head right back at him. “Seriously, 15000 years old and you still never heard of foreplay? It’s a human concept going pretty far back.”

  That haughty look I haven’t seen in a while comes back. “As I said, I do not concern myself with the affairs of catt—I mean, humans.”

  But then his expression softens, and he says, “However if this foreplay will convince your female works to grant me entry as they did before, I am happy to learn and execute the concept most thoroughly. You are my queen, and I would rather forego my own pleasure than cause you a moment of discomfort.”

  His words melt my new reservations away. He at least corrected himself when he started to call the humans cattle. That’s progress, right? And to be fair, he’s not the only man who’s come into a sexual relationship without a clue. At least he has an excuse…and the will to learn.

  “Please instruct me in the ways of foreplay,” he says now.

  “Well, um, it can be a lot of things. But usually, people start with kissing, then level up to touching and licking.”

  “Yes, I let him kiss you, but stayed his body when he thought to do other things with you. Would you like me to do the things I wouldn’t let him do?”

  It takes me a moment to register who “him” is. Akwasi. “Just how far into his head were you?” I ask, feeling some kind of way. It seems nothing in the relationship I’d thought was leading to marriage was any kind of real.

  “He initiated the first contact and then asked for your access codes. When one of my thralls reported this invitation, I decided to use it to my advantage.” Damianos answers
, tone simple. Like taking over somebody’s head was the obvious conclusion to that problem.

  “So you feel bad about all the things you’ve done to me, but not what you did to him? And all your other mind slaves?”

  He looks at me and answers, “You matter. They do not.”

  “You think it’s up to you to decide I matter, and they don’t?” I sit up on my forearms, the warm, sexy feelings definitely fading. “Like, you really think you’re God.”

  “Why would you compare me to the supposed deity you believe designed your race? If he was a drakkon, he would have done a much better job.”

  No, he didn’t just say that. I open my mouth to tell him all the way off. But before I can, he says, “And as for you mattering most of all to me—that was not a decision, Reverence. As much as I tried to fight it, you became the only one who truly mattered the moment you made my male works drop.”

  “So, it’s all my fault you’re obsessed with me?”

  “Yes,” he answers, his expression somewhat baffled. “Who else’s fault would it be?”

  I look away, trying to figure out how to respond to that…to him.

  “I have distressed your flame. Please tell me why so that I might fix it.”

  “I don’t know if you can,” I answer, dropping my eyes. “I’m trying to wrap my head around all of this. You’re a sociopath who’s obsessed with me. And now I’m in your bed.”

  “Does this mean you do not wish me to do those things to you?” he asks into my pensive silence.

  “It should,” I reply , finally looking up. “But, it doesn’t. And I don’t know why.”

  “Yes, I am seeing that now,” he says. “You never understood the reason for us. The absolute genetic certainty that we should be mates. I thought sending the basketball player for your first long-term relationship would properly prepare you for me. But I should have done more to explain it to you. The fating portals are a feat of great quantum design. When they make a mate match, there can be no doubt that the two candidates are meant to be. That is not magic or romance. It is a basic immutable fact. It does not matter that I am a sociopath as you called me or that you are an overly emotional she-wolf. There is no one else for us. I wish you had understood this. I wish it more than anything.”

  I shake my head at him. “But we’re not fated mates. Neither of us went through the portal.”

  “I know that we are fated mates. I know it like a human baby knows to breathe air. And there is no need for a trip through the fertility portal for me to be certain. Ola, my queen, you matter to me. You are the only wolf mutation or anthro on this planet who matters to me. I will never apologize for that.”

  He’d never apologize for that. And suddenly I don’t want him to. I don’t want to think about the past. Or worry about the future. Or even talk.

  I get up on my knees and kiss him, coming back to the here and now.

  Maybe he feels that way too. No more questions. No more explanations. No more requests.

  He touches me as we kiss. His hand finds a breast and massages it, until I begin to moan. Then without another word, he settles me back on the bed, before bending one of my legs over his shoulder.

  Oh God, his tongue. I’m not ready for it.

  I can feel the distinct fork slithering along my tunnel walls. It’s even longer than I thought, and it goes in so deep, producing all sorts of amazing sensations as it explores. Then it grazes against something that makes me gush like I’m in heat again.

  He pauses then grazes it again. And then again. And then he presses down hard on it. Oh, my fucking Fenrir Wolf! My insides start to convulse. At the same time, my entire body goes rigid as a shockwave of electric pleasure rushes through me.

  I can’t move. Can’t speak. All I can do is come and come and come some more on his dragon tongue.

  He abruptly lifts his head, his tongue retreating from my vagina.

  A mercy, I think, but then he says, “Please turn over, Reverence. I believe your female works will grant me access now,” inside my head.

  “Dude, I wish I could move. But that tongue of yours rendered me incapable,” I answer, my words slurred and dazed.

  The next thing I know, his large hands are turning me over. Easy, like I don’t weigh a damn thing.

  He braces his heavy body over mine, places one webbed foot flat on the top of my thigh… then pushes into me with so much ease, it feels more like an easy glide than an invasion.

  It might have been embarrassing…if it didn’t feel so good.

  I expect him to start going at it right away, but there’s a long heavy pause, then his voice finally reappears inside my head. “Ola, I have never felt any sensation on this planet or mine akin to the pleasure of being inside of you without need of heat or reason.”

  Okay…

  He’s a sociopath for sure.

  And obsessed with me, which is bad.

  But I want to say thank you. I want to call him baby and tell him I feel exactly the same.

  Instead, I reach up with energy I didn’t know I still had and curl a hand around the back of his neck. “Please, just…” I beg.

  Granting my wish, he starts to take me with deep rolling strokes. Then it’s just the pleasure again. No sounds but my moans and cries as he pushes in and out. His secondary dick is a heavy presence at the bottom of my pussy, and somehow that makes the sensations even more unbelievable.

  I’m so close. I want him to be where I am. “Please, you come…you come too.”

  He lets out a coarse grunt pushing in harder, pushing in deeper. But then slows to a pause.

  “What’s…what’s wrong?” I ask from the dazed edge of my own pleasure.

  “My secondary seeder has become sireki.”

  “Sireki…” I repeat, confused at the foreign word. I thought the mate bond was supposed to serve as some kind of translator.

  “There is no one corresponding word in any of your human languages for its state. The best I can describe it is agitated, confused, and stuck. It is refusing to let my primary cock release until it has been allowed to seed in your second available hole as it would with a drakki.”

  I sift through that extremely disturbing dragon anatomy lesson to figure out, “Wait are you saying it’s refusing to let you cum until I let it have my ass?”

  “Another clever summation, Reverence.”

  But I’m feeling more stunned than clever as I ask, “Can’t you just stroke it out?”

  “Stroke it out…” he says, sounding just as confused as I did about sireki. “This is a euphemism for when males of your species rub themselves until their semen arrives, yes?”

  The fact that he’s asking means it’s going to take too long for him to actually do it. And my huge orgasm is beginning to recede, like, you’re turning me off with all this talking.

  “Okay, okay, just let the second dick do its thing,” I say before my big O can fade all the way away.

  A shocked pause. “Reverence, are you sure?”

  “I’m sure I’d rather have this orgasm than lose it,” I answer, my voice frank as hell. “Now, can you please just stick the second dick in, before I come to my senses?”

  I wouldn’t say Damianos got down to business so much as his secondary dick did. Suddenly, it’s squirming again. No, not squirming, striking.

  I gasp out loud when it starts to push into my pussy, along with Damianos primary dick. It’s not painful, but I slap his thigh because “I don’t think I can take two dicks in my pussy. I saw that porn, and I did not like it.”

  “That is not its aim, Reverence,” Damianos assures me.

  In the next moment, it pulls out, and then I feel it at the entrance of my ass. But this time it doesn’t strike. Instead, it dribbles something hot and wet into the puckered hole. Pre-cum? My own essence?

  I can’t tell, but it slides in with no problem after that. And then it’s dicks in both holes, pumping and filling me up. Until suddenly they both surge at the same time and jet streams of cum into me.<
br />
  And was I acting like this was some kind of huge sacrifice?

  Alright, take that back. I come. I come so hard that everything fades to black, before suddenly exploding into a thousand colorful stars.

  Is this why they sometimes call orgasms “seeing fireworks?”

  The question echoes as the light show pops off behind my eyes.

  Eventually, he pulls out. There’s some talk of “the great mess we’ve made.” Then I’m in what must be a shower. I still don’t have enough access to my senses to open my eyes, but hot water washes over my tired body as I mutter, “What did you do to me?” against his chest.

  “I would put the same question to you, Ola. You called me obsessed before we mated without breeding. Now I am something even more than that.”

  “What’s more than obsessed?” I ask, my eyes tracing the rivulets of water, running down his nipple-free, but heavily muscled chest.

  “I do not quite know. But my flame…it burns yellow as the Betrayer King’s did for his mate. And I want things so badly. Your happiness most of all. But I also want your flame to burn the same color as mine. My queen…”

  He tips my face up as water sluices down both of us. “I find myself wanting to act as a human does, to wed you as a human would in front of your wolves and my drakkon. And though I am a drakkon, I wish not to live even a minute longer than you. I would die first if I could arrange it or have my life end at the same time as yours. In fact, the very thought of losing you makes my flame burn crazed with Widower’s Madness, though you are still here.”

  Suddenly I’m wide awake again and overwhelmed by his emphatic words. My wolf jumps up and down, demanding that I declare the same.

  But then the water clicks off and the dryer system blows a bunch of hot air in my face. Reminding me…

  I’m a wolf and he’s a dragon. And not a good one like my sister’s mate, but like the dragon that killed half my fathers’ village.

  Also… “I don’t think we can have this conversation with this collar around my neck. Maybe if you took it off, we could talk about what it would take to make those dreams of yours come true.”