Chapter 43: Where Petals Part and the Dragon Claims (R18)
A heavy breath clentched around Demond's throat as she glared at the dragon, her eyes narrowing in a mix of annoyance and arousal. The fabric of the lace undergarment clung to her skin briefly before it gave way to the dragon's strength, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in the moonlit chamber. Demond's cheeks burned a brighter shade of red, the same color as the roses that grew in the garden she had come only to despise, yet the redness of her cheek, and the cherries on the larger ones...it was a color that spoke of a different kind of passion, one her nail would happily carve with the heat of claw.
"A-Adrei...you...." the witch stuttered, her eyes narrowing as she scowled at her dragon husband. The small tremblng frame resembled a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a predator, yet the perverted spirit behind those eyes was as potent as ever. She hastily brought her arms up to over her chest and the 'Miss Berry' underneath, the fabric of her undergarments already falling aside to the floor. In the hasty judgement to cover herself, the old mage's intellegence was put to waste, for the act of simply picking them back up and putting them on again was forgotten.
Through the curtain of her own shyness, Demond watched as the dragon's eyes devoured her, the pupils dilating with a hunger that could swallow the moon itself. Yet, Adrei remained still, her clawed hands curled into fists at her sides, a testament to the self-control that had been honed over centuries of war and diplomacy. The air grew thick with a tension that was as potent as the scent of the garden's night blooms, the very essence of their unspoken desires a masterful potion that intoxicated the room.
"You promised...no touching..." The witch gasped, her eyes pleading despite the heat that danced in on her chest and underneath. Her protest was a mere mumur when clashing against the sporadic itch that tingled her spine, thighs, cheek, and lips.
"I did." Adrei's voice was low, a smoldering ember that promised warmth and comfort. "But I never said you couldn't touch me."
A simple loophole by a professional pervert, a supposed amateur in seductress, as the dragon tugged in her sleeves like countless times before, only this time, the meaning was embedded within her soul for the curious, heated eyes of the witch, wishing to burrow the same passion that consumed the dragon's eyes into her own body.
It is often told by her sibiling that eyes were windows to her soul, one of many quotes by Demond, so when her robe fell to the floor with a whisper of fabric, the dragon felt the heat from her gaze like a dragon's breath upon her scales. She mused as the witch's eyes darted over her, taking in every detail, her pupils dilating with the same hunger that mirrored hers.
"Come now, Demond." The dragon purred, as she latched her arms under the pillow, the large buldgness shifting slightly to accommodate her wife's weight. "Aren't you in as much need as I am?"
The witch gulped, grumbled as she stepped closer to Adrei, the coolness of the floor a stark reminder only for leaning into the heat that radiated from the dragon's body. She reached out, her slender fingers tracing the scaled skin with a careful, stuttering, yet firm touch. The dragon's breath coiled into itself as she felt the witch's finger traveled, the warmth seeping into her very core.
And...to the cherry she has been curious about since the bath. As if determination would allow her to ignore the throbbing between her legs, Demond's hand reached for the plant. In her mind, Adil the Druid's teachings of the garden's fragile life cycle tinged the corner of her mind, a lesson of carrassing a simple petal without the intent to harm it.
Yet, the petal that she wished to caress was not so simple; it was a living, breathing part of a body that grew and grew with each passing second, as if the garden itself was blooming into a fiery sunflower. The twirl, then a circling squeeze, it was as if the moon tilted and graced upon the petal, afraid to burn it yet eager to feel its warmth. The dragon's breath grew heavy, her eyes half-lidded, as the moonful wife explored a newfound treasure that she submit herself for.