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“Tell me you’re mine, Claws, and we’ll leave right now and go somewhere I can show you, at length, exactly how a bond is completed.”
“We were never truly enemies, Claws,”
“Maybe not,” I agree with a shrug. “But give it time. I’m sure we’ll get there.”
“What do you need, Claws?” he purrs, like he doesn’t already know. “Tell your Bonded what he can do for you.”
“Kiss me,” I command. “And then take me somewhere so I can fuck you and no one will hear me scream.”
“From now on, you will only come on my cock, my fingers, my hand, my mouth, and my tongue. Every orgasm, every moan, every gasped word, and every drop of cum is mine. And do you know why that
“Your dragon feels the same way that you do…like you were made for me and me you. Like the metric of my happiness rests solely on yours. Like I could never be complete without you by my side.”
“Oh, right. We’re supposed to be enemies,” he deadpans, like it’s the most asinine thing he’s ever heard. “Exactly,” I agree. “Now fuck me like you hate me.”
His words get lost as his lips once again claim mine, and he drinks me down like I’m the elixir of life and he’s fighting his way back from the brink of death.
Each thrust is punctuated with a roll of his hips, and my clit sings praises to his technique while my vagina starts buying merch that says Property of Aeson “Fucks Like a God” Noctis.
BYE LOL
“Soak my cock, Claws. Give me what I need,” he growls
“You light up for me so beautifully.”
Que one direction
I don’t think Aeson Noctis is my Bonded Mate. I think he might be my Soul Tied.
Your WHAT
Ever, My grandmother was right. Every dragon deserves to fill their life with treasures that they’ll cherish, revere, and protect. This flower was the most breathtaking thing I’d ever laid eyes on, until I saw you. It feels fitting that you should have it now. A great treasure for the greatest treasure of all. Yours, Aeson
“Are you one of those guys that will become pure marshmallow fluff when it’s just the two of us, but the minute anyone else is around, you’re an asshole?”
the lines of her mark look more like calligraphy. Inky strokes of varying thicknesses highlight the feminine angles of her jaw and shoulders. There are some daintier lines flowing between the broader ribbons of black, and there’s a star shape—or maybe it’s a rhombus—on the front of her throat.
