Night of the Drakoryans: A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy

by Ava Sinclair

  “Let yourself feel,” I say. “Let me take care of you. Let me give you the pleasure that is your birthright as a woman.”

  She is panting in my grasp and moves her hands up to my chest as if to push me away. Her pupils are dilated in excitement, her full lips parted. But she is on the cusp of resisting, and I know this is because she has been conditioned to deny her own needs. I must take control, and I do. I begin to move my finger back and forth, manipulating, teasing. I am rewarded by a surge of wetness, the sweet dew of her first arousal. I sink down to my knees, grasping her hips. I cannot stop myself now, and I sense if I do, she would flee. I must take her over the edge.

  I hold her tightly as my tongue dances through the seam of her pussy, lapping velvety petals blooming with arousal. I lathe her aggressively, hungrily, and she cries out. Her hands, which had been pulling my hair, now grasp it, and to my sudden surprise I feel her not pushing me away but pulling me to her. I find the little nub of her pleasure, fully emerged now, and seize it in a gentle sucking bite.

  Syrene’s moan becomes a wild scream of pleasure. I grab her round ass, squeezing as I lick and suck and feast on her sweet pussy. I feel her tense and shudder with the force of her first orgasm, but I keep my face pressed tightly against her until the shudder slows to a gentle spasm. Her knees buckle as I stand, and I catch her in my arms and lay her on the bed.

  I slide my body over hers.

  “What was that?” she asks.

  “That was pleasure’s peak.” I smile down at her. “And it was my distinct honor to guide you there.” I smooth her hair away from her face. “Did you like it?”

  “Can you do it again?”

  I almost laugh from happiness.

  “I can do it as many times as you would like me to.”

  She catches her lower lip in her mouth and shyly drops her eyes.

  “There are more and greater pleasures,” I say.

  She looks doubtful. “There cannot be.”

  I take her hand and guide it down to my cock. “A tongue can only go so far. This can touch the core of you to find a deeper pleasure.”

  “How can…?” she begins, but I put one finger to her mouth and another to her nether lips, slipping a finger between them and coating it with arousal. I hold my hand up and show her the slickness coaxed from her own body.

  “Your body welcomes mine. The slickness you produce? It’s an invitation.” I pause. “Syrene…” She’s looking into my eyes. She’s trying to be brave, but I can tell she’s afraid again. “To lie with you is an honor. I will treat you gently. I promise.”

  “Gently.” She repeats the word. “I am not used to gentleness.” She grows quiet. “Will it hurt?”

  I sigh and move away from her, pulling her to sitting. I reach for the hem of her gown and pull it up and off her.

  “Do you remember how you felt when I tasted of your hidden treasures?” The flush blooms across her skin again as she nods. “Pleasure is like a wave that breaks on the sea. If a virgin is taken on the crest of that wave, it drowns much of the pain. After that…” I put my mouth to her ear. “Only sweetness, and sweet abandon.”

  She turns her head. “Do you promise?”

  I put my forehead to hers. “I promise.”

  “No one has ever made me a promise before.”

  “Then I am honored to be the first for that, too, Syrene of Arkney.”

  I cover her breast with my hand and feel the nipple swell under my palm. My need for her is rising like fire in my blood. The ache of it throbs within me. I lower my head, capturing her nipple in my mouth. I suckle it softly, my hands roaming her body, mapping it with my palms. She moans and squirms on the bed but does not fight me. I move to the other breast. I slide my hands beneath her bottom, squeezing. Her buttocks are firm and springy. I move back and turn her over. I slide her curtain of hair to the side and begin planting light kisses and nips across her shoulders, then down her back. Her buttocks are crowned by two adorable dimples. I kiss each of them and slide lower, nipping her ass. She moans, and I chuckle. She’s sensitive here, too; I am already envisioning the fun we will have. I move lower still, teasing the back of her thighs and knees with my mouth. Everywhere my lips fall makes her whimper.

  I flip her back over. Syrene’s olive skin is covered in a light sheen of sweat. She glows in the candlelight. I can smell the scent of her arousal. I move my fingers between her thighs, past the flower of her womanhood to test the shallow barrier I will have to breach to make her mine.

  It is different with every woman. Hers is mercifully thin, and I can already tell that it protects a sheath that is hot, wet and tight. I can wait no longer. I rub her clit until she is moaning and rising to meet my hand and then, with one fluid motion, I slide between her legs and drive my cock home, covering her mouth with mine to absorb her scream of pained surprise.

  She struggles sweetly for a moment, but then stops and begins to moan. I am fully seated in her, and the breach did not hurt so much because I was able to change the shape of my cock, making it longer and thinner as I entered. But now I swell to my full size, but slowly, and begin to move.

  I study Syrene’s face. Her expression has turned to one of amazement and becomes more amazed when I reveal the mystery of Drakoryan skill. The head of my cock seeks the source of her pleasure, that hidden bundle of nerves inside her sheath just behind her mons. It seals to that spots and begins to vibrate. Her cries fill the room as her legs wrap around me, pulling close in an instinctive, carnal embrace.

  I give myself leave now to fuck her harder, taking cues from her body as I go. I feel her come, her pussy quivering around my cock. She’s so hot, so tight; I am aching with the need to spend, but my desire to increase her pleasure overrides it. I want to send her off to sleep love-bruised and fully sated. I take her with long, slow strokes, pulsing my cock as I move in and out. She is lost to me as she rides the waves of sensation. I push her to the final peak, and when she comes with a cry, I come, too. The climax is more than fulfilling; it is shattering. I cling to her as she clings to me, shaken to the core not just by the physical relief, but the joy of having driven away some of her hurt and replacing it with the pleasure she was born to feel.

  Chapter 8

  SYRENE

  Pleasure. Care. Kindness.

  How did I come to accept it so quickly? I have only been here for…how long have I been here? This long night is making me lose track of time. Before Lord Edrys claimed me, I felt as if I were wearing the shell of my past. But what he did to me…the way he did it. The shell is cracking and falling away, exposing me to more goodness I never knew existed.

  “How does the water feel?” The deep voice of the man who took my innocence is gentle and caring.

  I’m sitting in a pool of water in a cavern deep in the castle. The walls here are golden yellow, and the waters have healing properties. I’d fallen into a deep sleep after Edrys had claimed me. I’d awakened sore from his attentions. It was not an unpleasant soreness, though. The tenderness between my legs reminded me of what he had done, and I’d lay there staring through the window at the stars, reliving my transformation from virgin to woman. Now that soreness is ebbing away, thanks to these waters.

  I feel happy, but also sad.

  “What are you thinking about, little beauty?”

  I look up at him. “I am thinking that the man who showed me the first kindness I’ve ever known will now give me to another.” I turn away, ashamed of the emotion that overwhelms me.

  Edrys sits on the edge of the pool and lifts me from the water, cradling me in his lap.

  “That’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it?” I ask, my voice quavering. “You’ll give me to your brothers now?”

  My ear is against his chest. I hear both his heartbeat and heavy sigh.

  “You think I am just casting you aside without feeling, hmm?” He tips my chin up to his. “Let me tell you something. It is with the greatest of reluctance that I will send you to Nyron’s bed. I shall not
sleep well, thinking of you in his arms, as my empty ones will ache until they hold you once more. The only thing that will comfort me is knowing that with each claiming, you will find the love and pleasure you first felt with me increased first two, and then threefold.”

  His tone is meant to be reassuring, but still I feel a sense of loss.

  “In my village, one man takes one woman for his wife.”

  “That is not our way, sweet Syrene,” Edrys explains. “The Drakoryan are different. In time, you will better understand how we differ from other men. But understand that there is a reason we take one woman together. A shared mate gives us a common cause, a reason to subvert our unique passions, to compromise.”

  “So I will have…three husbands.” I worry my lip with my bottom teeth. “But what if the others aren’t kind to me?”

  “How could they not be?” He hugs me to him, but I feel him tense. He’s worried, but why?

  He tells me that it is time, that I must now greet his brother, Lord Nyron of Jo’lyn. He’s brought a fresh gown to the chamber. It’s pale blue and skims my naked form, the fabric so light that I feel exposed even with it on.

  Edrys is silent as he guides me through the castle. It is so large, and I am overwhelmed by the notion that this will be my home now. It still doesn’t feel real. When I would sit alone in my village staring at the mountains beyond, I never envisioned that beyond my sight were castles in disguise. The warren of tunnels leads to rooms and caverns and halls. I glance through doorways as we navigate dark passageways. The rooms we pass are sumptuous, with covered tapestries on the stone walls and blazes in the huge fireplaces. Edrys tells me he will eventually show me the all of this place, adding that it will take days to cover Castle Jo’lyn from top to bottom. There is great pride in his voice.

  We’ve turned a sharp corner and ahead of us, the passage we’re walking takes a dip.

  “My brother wants to meet you somewhere other than his bedchamber.” Edrys smiles down at me. “It seems that he’s more romantic than I thought.”

  I ask what he means, but he doesn’t answer. He leads me to where the tunnel becomes a winding stair that leads to another narrow passageway with smooth curved walls etched with images of dragons. Wall sconces holding huge candles line our path; stalagmites formed from dripping wax rise from the floor underneath them. Our shadows dance as we walk, and as we round a corner I can hear something like humming.

  There is a glow up ahead. Edrys stops and turns to me. His face is slightly pained.

  “Here is where you go on without me. He inclines his head towards the glow. “Lord Nyron awaits.”

  I look towards the light. The ringing hum rises and falls. I look skeptically at Edrys.

  “I’m afraid.”

  He takes my hand. “You were afraid with me, too. But then you were brave. We seek to please you. Remember that.”

  He leaves me without another word. I want to call after him but stop myself. I turn towards the light, my heart starting to pound in my chest. The hum has morphed into something akin to music. I walk towards the light, and discover that it is coming from a cave, the interior perfectly bell-shaped. The rocks here glow iridescent, flooding the space with a soft, rainbow glow. Suddenly the hum comes again, rising and falling in perfect pitch. Music. Beautiful music. I stand and smile in wonder.

  “They call it the Singing Cavern.” A man steps from the shadows. He is tall and broad like Edrys, but with light brown hair tied in a knot on the top of his head. His beard follows the curve of a square jaw. His cheekbones are higher than his brothers’, and his eyes are gray-green in the dim light and are sterner.

  “You’re Lord Nyron,” I say.

  “I am. And you’re Syrene.” He is staring at me so that I squirm under his gaze. I see the front of his skirt rise. He turns away.

  “This cavern is unique to our castle. There’s a crack at the top. It’s too high to see from here, but when the wind blows across it, the cave sings.” He turns back to me. The humming has become one long, wavering note.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say. I walk over to the rocks. “And the rocks. Why do they glow? Is it magic?”

  “There is often magic in these places, but this glow is no sorcery. It’s not even the rocks themselves that glow.” Nyron comes to stand beside me and leans down to pinch something off one of the rocks. “Lichen. If it grows anywhere else, we have not found it. When I was a child, we painted ourselves with it.” He crushes the lichen between his fingers and holds up his hand. The tips of his fingers grow bright green.

  “Oh…” I start to put my hand out to his, then catch myself and withdraw it.

  “There’s no need to be afraid.” His voice is deep.

  “I know. Edrys told me…he said I’m supposed to be brave.”

  Nyron quirks a brow. “It seems curious advice coming from a man forced to flee his own bedchamber.”

  I flush. “Lord Nyron, I fought because I was afraid. I had never known a kindness.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?” I shake my head, confused. “How?”

  He falls quiet.

  “How?” I ask again.

  “When you rejected him, Edrys was frustrated. We all were. Most virgins…”

  “…fall onto the bed with their legs spread?” I ask.

  “No. But neither do they hit us with candlesticks.”

  “That’s fair, I suppose.” I ponder his words. “You know of my past?”

  “We had the castle oracle scry about your past. He could tell us only what he saw. A sad childhood. A lack of love. He advised us to treat you gently.” He pauses. “Did he? Edrys, I mean. Did he treat you gently?”

  “Yes.” I raise my eyes to his. “Will you?”

  “I can promise to try…” He looks away. “I have a rawer passion than my brothers. It is hard to control. And I have been angry with you, Syrene of Arkney.”

  “You?” I realize I’m angry at him for being angry with me. “I suppose I was fortunate then, to have given my innocence to a man who took the time to understand me.”

  I turn my back to him, missing Edrys more by the moment.

  Behind me, Nyron is quiet.

  “You’re right.” His words are spoken in the tone of someone not used to admitting a wrong. “I’d wanted to be first. Perhaps that’s where my anger really lies. Maybe it was for the best. I find it hard to control my passions.” He walks to stand in front of me.

  “I don’t believe that,” I say. “If you can control a dragon, then surely you can control your passion.”

  “They are one in the same.” He makes the statement quietly.

  “How can they be one in the same?”

  My question seems to draw Nyron back into himself. Neither of us seems to know what to say. Around us, the rocks glow and the only sound is the soft singing wind from above. I remember then, that Edrys told me to be brave. I take a deep breath.

  “Are you going to fuck me?” I ask.

  He smiles, and the tension between us snaps like a thread. “That is a bold question from one so recently deflowered. The answer is yes. I am eager to leave my mark on you, Syrene of Arkney.”

  I reach down and pluck some lichen from the rock. I rub it together in my hands, marveling at the glow on my palms. “Very well,” I say. “But first, I will leave my mark on you.” I put my hands to his chest, molding them to his pectoral mounds. His skin is unnaturally warm. “Are you well?” I ask. “You feel feverish.”

  “I burn for you.” He watches as I move my hands away. My prints look tiny on the curve of his muscles. I apply a twin to the other side. He is staring down at me, and his gray eyes have now taken on a golden hue. I can see the need in them. He wants me. I feel a pulsing between my legs that I now recognize as desire and feel both wonder and shame that I could respond so readily to another man.

  “My bedchamber is in an upper room of the castle. Come.”

  “No.” I look around the cavern. “Take me here instead”


  “Here?” he asks.

  “No bedchamber could be as beautiful. And the singing…” I can’t help but smile. “It makes me feel…” I struggle to find the word.

  “Happy?”

  “Happy. Yes. It is new, this happy.”

  Nyron takes me to a large boulder. He moves behind me and reaches for the straps of my gown, sliding them down and off my shoulders. As the gown puddles to the floor, he pushes me forward. The lichen on the rock is fine and brittle. It crackles like dust against my skin. I feel his chest press against my back.

  “In the forest, the beasts mount their mates from behind.” Nyron’s voice is hot in my ear. “The act is quick. You awaken the beast in me. I will take you like a wild thing, but slowly. I will raise a fire in you as you raised one in me.”

  I feel something pressing against the little nub that Edrys had first teased. I look back to see Nyron’s cock, long and thick. But the end…it is moving like a finger, teasing my clit, lubricating it with something that makes it tingle and throb so that my breath is taken away.

  “What—?” I begin.

  “Drakoryans have their own way of pleasing a mate. How do you feel, Syrene of Arkney?”

  “I…I…” I can’t put it into words. The little kernel of pleasure feels magnified, the throb rippling through my core. I can feel my pussy clenching. “Please…please!”

  I push back against him.

  “I cannot be as gentle as my brother,” he warns me.

  “I don’t want you to be!” My cry echoes through the cavern, the admission surprising me as much as him. The next sensation is the length of his huge cock thrusting into me. The sweet, hot force of it takes my breath away. I am instantly drenched with arousal that eases his passage.

  This is no Lord Edrys. Nyron slams into me with a sense of urgency, as if his life depends on it. But the tingle that started in my clit now lines my passage; it only takes the youngest son of House Jo’lyn five thrusts before rushes of pleasure thunder through my body. His hands find my ass, squeezing until I whimper in pleasure-pain.

  His cock is pulsing as he slides in and out of me. I can no longer untangle the sensations that blend into a feeling of sheer ecstasy that shamefully reduces me to the hot, needy space between my legs. I am centered entirely on my core, drawn in. There’s a sensation of tightening, of being wound. I can only moan as wet sounds of sex mix with the song of the wind. I feel the heavy sack of his balls slap against the mound of my pussy. Each jolt sends a dizzying thrill running through my body.