Stranded on The Southern Continent

Windthrow pushed me into our room. He did it playfully, yet that slight force got his desire across. I stood in front of the bed as he closed the door.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

My heartbeat was clearly–humiliatingly–audible. Windthrow stood behind me, his presence only soothed me a little, considering what we were about to do...

Swish-swish. Swish-swish!

And that was my tail, brushing over the floor. Where’s my confidence now, when I needed it?

Purple light spilled through the window. My mate’s shadow towered next to mine. He stripped off his shirt, tossing it onto the floor, his scent filling the room and wrapping around me.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

C'mon, start undressing yourself Vylet. He’s your mate. My shaking claw reached up to my chest coverings.

Sharp. Panicked. And short breaths.

I want this. And yet…

Is it going to hurt? I’m scared. I’m scared. I’m scared…

Before I could spiral any deeper, a soft touch patted my head, smoothing my hair. Windthrow wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Of course! Let me just–” I wiggled my arm loose from his hug and unclasped my cloak, letting it fall to the floor. “I’m fine! This is the least you can expect of a proper mate–”

His forearm moved from my shoulders down to my chest. I exhaled sharply. Anticipating…something.

Instead, he held the back of his hand over my breast. Something splashed in the lake outside. The sound of the trees rustling from a gentle breeze outside.

“Your heartbeat is racing, Vylet.” He ran a finger down my horn, agonizingly slowly. “You told me you’re not nervous, perhaps you’re not being honest?”

A sudden weakness in my knees, I only kept standing because Windthrow propped me up. “I’m– afraid that it’ll…hurt.”

“Not with me it won’t, I’m gentle.” His finger continued to trace my horn, down to the top of my head. Then to the tender scales lining my neck.

“Vylet, for my own benefit–can you tell me if you’re a virgin?”

“Maybe– yes. I am” My talons were clenching, scraping the wooden floor. Lizard girls are not great for hardwood.

Windthrow stifled a laugh.

“Hey!” I snapped.

“Sorry sorry! It’s just–all your flirting and calling me your mate and you’re still an innocent maiden!”

Shuffling my feet, eyes tearing up, I looked away. “I-I- don’t know why I think like that.”

“It’s okay!” He scratched under my chin. “Shh, do you still want to– with me?”

“Yes.”

The unspoken part: Because I think I love you.

Windthrow pulled his arms away–immediately, I missed the feel of his skin. And the heat of his breath on my neck.

“Hold on just a moment, Vylet.”

Each step he took away from me felt like a reaffirmation. I did want him. I do want to give myself to him.

The blinds clattered closed and the room was plunged into darkness. A split second later, my darkvision adjusted. To my eyes, the room was greyscale.

My mate’s presence was getting closer, my body tensed and relaxed in equal measure.

The “animal” Vylet was desperate, while the “person” Vylet was still scared. This body felt so natural to me–it was natural to me. And now I was putting this body entirely in Windthrow’s hands. But he’s my mate, so that’s how it should be!

“It’s okay, Vylet.” Both his hands caressed my sides, settling at my hips. “Let’s get undressed first!”

He unclasped my leg wraps, then my chest wraps. Both unspooled, falling around my talons. Like the innocent maiden–that Windthrow insisted I was–one clawed hand blocked my chest, the other blocked the sensitive spot between my legs.

Windthrow started to slip out of his trousers. Was I just gonna let him do all the work!? Gathering my courage–I swung around to face him.

My tail softly whipped against Windthrow’s ankle.

“Ow!”

“Oh gosh!” I kneeled in front of him and inspected his ankle, feeling it with my palms. “Are you okay?”

He laughed, eyes looking like silver gems in the darkness. “Yes, I was only surprised!"

From here, on my knees, he towered over me, a beautiful silhouette.

“You undressed me…so let me take off your pants at least.”

“Okay! Go ahead.”

I practically heard his grin. And why shouldn’t he be smiling when a pretty woman was about to take off his pants?

Awkwardly, I reached my claws beneath the band of his trousers. Don’t scratch him. Don’t scratch him.

He watched as I pulled them down slowly. Past his hips, over his firm buttocks. Then down his two muscular legs.

Just Windthrow’s underclothes remained. Saliva flooded my mouth, the aroma was overpowering. My jaw hung open, already in a daze.

There it was, again. Outlined clearly under the thin fabric. Always an impressive surprise!

Focus. Oh, gods did it move? No. Focus.

Ever so delicately–being so close to the “goods”–I slipped the blunt side of two claws beneath his underclothes and pulled them down.

Something popped up; more of Windthrow’s potent aroma hit me like a truck. There were many many options I could offer Windthrow here, kneeling in front of him…but I already felt like fainting! And I’d figuratively die if my fangs accidently scraped my mate (and he might literally die).

“All done!” My voice sounded several octaves higher.

“Good girl.” He patted the top of my head.

“Ehehehe.” I closed my eyes and pushed my head against his touch.

“Let's get to bed,” Windthrow said.

“Okay”–he scooped me up like I weighed nothing–“gods you’re strong!”

Windthrow laid me on the bed, my head against the pillow. I pulled the blankets over myself.

Peeking over the blankets, I watched as he strolled towards the end of the bed. Nonchalant. His earlier anxiety had all but disappeared! Confident in his ability to be a lover, no doubt.

He lifted the blanket. A rush of cool air flooded my protective cocoon. The bed depressed as he hunched down, one hand on the mattress, then another. Slowly he crawled up, like the searing wonderful heat spreading up my body.

He climbed atop me, our bodies pressing together. Windthrow looked down at me, desire burning in his eyes. My smaller frame was pinned beneath him.

I couldn’t help but look away! Highly developed darkvision was making this even more embarrassing! But my mate was enjoying this. His strong hands closed around my wrists; my arms were restrained above me. Exposed. Open. At his mercy. I could escape easily, if I wanted to. I didn’t want to.

He teased me, dragging the moment longer and longer. Does he want me to beg? I squirmed and twisted in his grip. He won’t understand but I say it anyway.

“Please…please make me a woman.”

Windthrow silenced me with a kiss. Then he lowered his body, until we’re pushed against each other. The feeling of his full weight on top of me was intoxicating. If I hadn’t already surrendered to him completely, this feeling would’ve pushed me over the edge. His dark skin rubbed against my scales–old battle scars were interspersed atop his otherwise perfect skin.

I moaned into our kiss, his tongue continuing to expertly intertwine with my own–somehow dodging the dangerous fangs that always worried me so much. My back arched in pleasure, further pushing our bodies together. Skin on scales. Soft on hard.

Windthrow broke off our kiss and effortlessly lifted me up. He guided me between his legs with my chest facing upwards and him positioned below me. My tail–almost comically–made this a bit complicated. But we figured it out!

Something very masculine was poking me in the back. And the rest of his body felt rigid and firm against me too!

Windthrow stroked up my leg. Lingering on the very sensitive part between my legs. At the same time he massaged my breasts–gently at first–then slightly rougher, with an occasional gentle pinch. I was loud, moans fading into growls before transforming back into moans.

He was meticulously preparing me, playing my body like an instrument. My mate is an expert!

“Want to go further?”

“Uh huh,” is all I could manage in response. Tonight he’d make me a woman.