At his name, he released her nipple with a pop and looked up at her. His pupils flashed to slits before returning to round; the dragon was close to the surface. In a growly voice, he said, “Again.”
Since any man she’d been with before had needed time to recover before going another round, she said, “More sex? Already?”
He nodded as he palmed her breasts and squeezed. Since they were already heavy with desire, the pressure of his fingers on her tender flesh sent a shock to straight between her legs.
She should be sore and tired, but she felt surprisingly full of energy. And a small part of her wondered what the dragonman would do next. His need to mate must be rubbing off on her; she was hornier than she’d ever been in her life.
She said, “I’m willing, Tristan. Take me again.”
He growled and leaned back on his heels. His posture gave her a chance to stare at his thick, still hard cock. How all those inches had fit into her in the first place, she didn’t know. However, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she desperately wanted—no, needed—to feel it inside her again.
Tristan growled, and between one second and the next, he flipped her over on the mattress. His hands caressed her large, squishy buttocks. His touch was rough and warm, and each slow brush of his fingers was deliberate and made her feel treasured and desired.
She knew most men liked a big ass to go from behind since it gave them a cushion, but Tristan’s caresses made her feel like he’d been waiting for an ass like hers his entire life.
Then his hands reached beneath her hips and pulled up her body until she was on her knees with her ass in the air. She refrained from asking questions since Samira had told her that when the dragon was mostly in command, it rarely replied. The inner beast was all about instinct and sensation.
Speaking of which, Tristan ran a finger through her folds and she arched into his touch with a moan, the roughness of his fingers causing a wonderful sensation along her slit. She was rewarded with a slap on her left cheek. The slight stinging pain sent more wetness between her thighs.
Tristan ran his fingers up her folds and circled her clit repeatedly. The almost-touch made her nerves throb and ache. To try to relieve it, she moved her body to try to catch his fingers on her clit. But Tristan’s reflexes were faster, and he moved out of the way. She decided to try another tactic to relieve her frustration. She whimpered and wiggled her rear end.
He rewarded her with a pinch to her clit and she cried out. But before there was enough pressure to give her an orgasm, he released her.
She ached to the point of pain. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she felt as if she’d burst. She whispered, “Please.”
He slapped her other ass cheek. “Female. Ready. Now.”
“Yes.”
And without preamble, he thrust into her with one swift motion. She fisted the sheets in her hands at the intrusion. In this position, the fullness was almost too much to handle.
Then he started to move. His hands were now on her hips, guiding her forward and back against his cock, his rhythm picking up pace until his balls were slapping against her clit with each thrust.
If she’d thought he’d taken her rough before, then now was downright brutal. He was in complete control of their rhythm and the movement of her hips, but she loved the feel of his hairy legs against hers, the pure male dominance of his touch as he pulled and pushed her hips against his. She would be bruised later, but right here, right now, she didn’t care about anything but her next orgasm.
For a second, she wondered what had happened to her; she wasn’t this sensual, demanding creature. Then Tristan slapped her right ass cheek and she moaned, gripping the sheets tighter in her fists. She was so close.
Tristan let out a roar as he stopped pounding and held her firmly against his cock. Again, she felt the heat of his seed and she was blinded by another intense orgasm. If Tristan hadn’t been holding her up by her hips, she’d have fallen over.
Then all too soon, Tristan pulled out and she felt empty again. She must’ve made a noise, because Tristan flipped her on her back and said, “Again. Now.”
His pupils were flashing between slits and round globes. The dragon was insatiable.
And yet, despite how exhausted she should be feeling after two wild bouts of sex, her core throbbed, wanting more.
Then Melanie did something she’d never done with a man before, and bent her legs up before running a hand to her clit. As she stroked it, she purred, “Yes. Again.”
Without warning, Tristan pushed her legs wider and thrust into her again. Somewhere in the back of Melanie’s mind, she wondered if she could be killed by too much sex because it was certainly looking like that might happen.
Chapter Three
“Melanie, wake up.”
Melanie turned her head into her pillow. “I’m tired. Go away.”
Someone shook her shoulder. “Melanie.”