By: Lillian Lark   
And I want to.
There’s still a pulse of arousal that has steadily been increasing. I slide my hand away from my opening, and the ooze of his seed out of me has my body tensing in loss. Kalos comes over me, slowly, bracing himself with an arm above my head.
“Hungry, little queen?”
My lips tremble with the sudden rush of need drawing me tight. f*ck me, the pheromones must surge when his release isn’t filling me. Biology is clever.
“Yes. I’m so empty now.” My lips tremble.
“We can’t have that.” He nuzzles my ear and I shiver. His lips brush my cheek before his mouth takes mine. His kiss isn’t as all-consuming as before. This one is more of a tease, drawing out the way his body makes mine feel with every soft suck and coaxing nip.
We’re still strangers, but there’s something that makes my heart ache when Kalos touches me like this. When he brushed a claw over my bruised knees. When he held his hand over mine.
This intimacy is like finding real diamonds in place of costume jewelry. Completely unexpected and precious in that unexpectedness.
How am I going to leave this in the morning? That’s an issue for future Katarina.
I sigh, my hips rocking in open air as my hands explore the large man on top of me. Kalos pulls away, his golden gaze locked on my face, watching my expression as my hands travel lower. He doesn’t move to direct this moment yet, as if he’s giving me a moment to settle with him over me. I don’t waste it.
I explore. His upper shaft is still damp from before, it’s not as hard as it was, but it’s still not soft. The huff of breath against my cheek when I slide my hand down the ridges that pleasured me a moment ago reminds me not to get distracted.
His second shaft is just as thick but lacks the friction-adding ribbing. This co*ck is so hard and throbbing, it makes my mouth water. Pearly precum beads on the tip, and I swipe it away with a finger to bring it to my lips.
Kalos stops the action with a grip on my wrist. “That is for your womb. Don’t tempt me to take you anywhere else.”
I swallow. “My womb?”
A disgruntled expression passes over Kalos’s face, and he doesn’t respond.
The amulet will keep a pregnancy from happening. So this is only… roleplay. Roleplay that holds me by the throat while I squirm needily to be filled. I drop my hand to continue exploring, trying to distract myself from his words, and he allows it.
I start to think that this part of him is rather human shaped… until I reach the hard, round swell at the bottom.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask, wondering, not for the first time, if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
“It’s my knot. You’ll take it for me, won’t you?” The question is a low rumble and the heat in my belly flares at the confidence in his tone.
I swallow. “Will it fit?”
“It will fit. Most women can take it with stretching. A witch like you should be able to handle it.”
“Don’t talk about other women when you’re on top of me.” The reaction is instant. The surge of jealousy at the comment should be a red flag, but I ignore it.
“As you wish, little queen.” He smirks.
To wipe the smug look off his face, I bring the head of his lower shaft to my puss*, and the dragon above me doesn’t hesitate to claim what I’ve offered him. As if he’s been waiting.
We both groan as he slides into my body. He doesn’t give me a moment to adjust this time, and I don’t need it. There’s an ache from when he took me before, and the feel of that has me starving for him.
As if Kalos can’t control himself any longer, he pulls from my body to fill it again. He sinks so deep that his knot presses against my soft folds. He grunts, and the next thrust and corresponding smack against my body is harder. My gasp is percussive to his movements.
Each hit to my cl*t brings a bright shock of need. I spread my thighs wider, wanting him even deeper. Kalos tries to slow his pace and I can tell it costs him, but every move inside me is accompanied by a hard grind of his knot against me.
I whisper curses because each press of his knot delivers a sharp-edged pleasure at the stretch.
My lips part and words I can’t possibly mean fall out. “Fill me up.”
His body tenses. “You have to accept my knot for me to breed you.”
The sound that escapes me is one part need and the other frustration. “Yes, yes, please breed me.”
I shut off my wide-eyed brain and start to dissolve into need as Kalos grinds his knot against my opening with more force.
It doesn’t budge.
“f*ck, it’s too big!” I cry.
“Patience, little queen, relax yourself for me.”
My body isn’t listening. The arousal has me drawn tight, and I whimper in need.
Somehow Kalos knows my body better than I do. Somehow he’s in control of himself, though he’s the one in heat. He presses his frame close to mine, still keeping most of his weight off me but propped on an elbow. Heat comes off him in waves. The hard grind of his knot becomes a gentle rock.
“Shh.” He places a hand over my thundering heart. “Breathe, sweet queen.”
I take a gasping breath and try to follow his command, shivering when he rocks his knot against me again. This time he circles his hips. My insides sing for the dragon stretching me. The hardness of his co*ck is a deep echo.
I think I’ve taken more of his knot this time, but I don’t look down. Instead, I’m completely ensnared by his gaze. Kalos is looking at me with such hungry possession that my core melts. We keep our eyes locked as he slides his hand from my heart down to my belly, his thumb starting to rub my cl*t softly.
I sigh at the next rock in my body, and he growls. The coiling tension in my core winds tighter, needier. So close to snapping. So close to breaking who I am. But in spite of all that, my body softens.
“Kalos,” I whisper.
His eyes glow at his name.
“Mine,” he growls.
The shock ricochets through my chest and distracts me from the sensual rock of our bodies. I’ve gone through the majority of my life as many things. A burden, a cohort, a trainee to the art of crime, and more recently, a friend. But never as someone to claim.
It happens then, my body gives to this man, this dragon. My throat catches on my emotions as his knot slides inside me. I throw my head back on a silent scream. The climax rages, buoyed and prolonged by Kalos’s own. He shoots his release deep. The heat of it is all-encompassing.
I barely notice the bite. His snarly growl vibrates through the crook of my shoulder and dissolves me into another org*sm.
