Chapter 159: Cum On My Cock, Hit Different In The Draconic Register
Maddox touched her like she’d disappear if he didn’t commit every soft inch to memory until hunger overtook him completely. Then nothing existed except the urgent, desperate need to feel her.
His briefs were gone. Her lace was completely torn off, and he was pressed against her entrance before she could tell him that wasn’t necessary.
All of her thoughts scattered and she arched into him with her hands in his hair.
He began to push inside of her.
Immediately she tensed. It hurt worse than she remembered. Gods.
"Fuck, you’re tight." His forehead dropped to hers, trying to hold still and let her adjust. He wasn’t even all the way in.
Meanwhile, her heart was pounding. Even though they’d done this before, it felt like the first time again. Except this first time was different because his want was flowing through their matebond into her loud and clear.
Then he lost it and instinct took over before his brain could override. He started thrusting.
The stretch was overwhelming. Pleasure threaded through the ache of it, and Guinevere couldn’t tell which one to chase.
"Move your hips with mine, baby." He breathed it against her ear. "I’ve got you."
She realized she probably just gave herself away. Experienced sex-perts don’t freeze up at the start. Too late to put that back in the bag.
His body shook, and she could feel through their matebond the effort it was taking him to fight his instincts and go slow for her. Her hips started to move in rhythm with his.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His body eagerly answered hers. Overenthusiastically answered. Hers was going to move whether it wanted to on its own or not.
"Just like that," he breathed. He grabbed her leg, hoisting it high to gain a deeper angle.
She gasped at the sudden depth.
He kept going, pushing harder. Every time he bottomed out she saw stars.
"Your pussy is so fucking perfect."
His fingers dug into her hip, pinning her so she couldn’t squirm, couldn’t dodge what was building. He felt her heat rising through every point of contact, orgasm close.
"Maddox..."
"Cum on my cock, baby." He said it in the Draconic register, gold eyes burning down at her, and the command bypassed every defense she had.
The combination of his size stretching her, the relentless pressure building low in her core, and the sound of her own full name in that voice was too much. She broke apart beneath him with a sound she’d never made before, her spine leaving the bed, her hands fisting the sheets so hard her knuckles went white.
He thrust harder, faster, then followed her over the edge, pumping into her with a groan that came from somewhere so deep in his chest it felt like the dragon itself was finishing.
She felt his orgasm through their matebond, but to her surprise, he kept going. She was already climbing towards a second peak, the tension rebuilding in her thighs, in the grip of her hands on his arms, in the way her breath hitched right before it shattered.
She tightened around him again, spasming.
"Fuck, that’s what I wanted. Good girl." His hips kept moving, thrusting again, deeper, and her body answered him like it had been built for this exact rhythm and refused to let it end.
Maddox groaned, unable to stop. Over a week of king-level pent up sexual frustration was coming out in every one of his thrusts.
The urge to mark her was clawing at the inside of his skull, his dragon slamming against his ribs with bruising force, screaming one word on repeat.
But he wanted more. He pulled out, flipping them both so she was on top, then picked her up and lowered her onto his cock with agonizing control.
"Fuck that’s it, baby. Take all of me."
He moaned at the sensation of her sinking down every inch. The moan was involuntary, guttural, and loud enough that the guards in the corridor exchanged a glance.
It was also so loud that it covered up the pained noise that escaped her throat at the sheer size and depth. It burned and ached and she couldn’t tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began.
He sat up abruptly and ripped the bralette she was sleeping in clean in half, tearing it off her body. Then he laid back down.
The blush that flooded her face under his gaze went all the way south, and his dragon lost its goddamn mind for the second time tonight. Maddox couldn’t blame it. The view was staggering.
"Ride me, Guinevere."
He didn’t wait for a response, gripping her hips and slamming her all the way down.
She gasped. He was already pulling her up and driving her down again, his hips snapping up to meet her, giving her zero time to adjust.
Her breasts bounced with every thrust. His eyes darkened watching, and his pace picked up, hitting that spot inside again that made her see stars.
He fucked her like he owned her, and her body was responding with an honesty that her mouth never would have allowed. She felt the pressure rise and her body moved faster on its own.
"Good girl."
The second ’good girl’ he gave her. Both times she felt unwanted, unasked-for joy, like her body craved his approval in a way that was going to require a very long conversation with herself later. Later could wait.
Mine, his dragon growled.
Then Maddox’s voice dropped lower, the beast bleeding through until the man and the dragon were sharing the same vocal cords.
"Tell me how much you love being owned by me." His eyes burned solid gold. "Say it."
Heat flooded through her alongside the shock. She should have been offended. Every fiber of the woman who’d thrown champagne in a lord’s face and called a master mage a tavern fortune-teller should have been offended.
Maddox spanked her.
"You like being owned by me," he repeated. "Say it. Now."
His palm cracked against her again. The sting of it combined with his thrusting beneath her, his hands moving her up and down like she weighed nothing, was too much.
"I like being owned by you," Guinevere breathed, and the words leaving her mouth surprised her less than how much she meant them.
"Good girl."
Maddox felt her orgasm rise through their matebond.
Right before it hit, his vision went fully gold. His dragon surged forward with a force he couldn’t contain, and his fangs found her neck before the decision had finished forming in his conscious mind.
His seed spilled into her as her orgasm tore through them both, overwhelming every sense in a feedback loop that had no off switch.
Time dissolved.
There was nothing except her pulse under his fangs and a wave that refused to end. He lost track of how long they stayed locked together, and the only thing he knew was that he had done a lot of things in his life and none of them had ever felt like this.
When he finally retracted his fangs and pulled out of her, she winced. Then her eyes fluttered closed, her body going boneless against his chest.
Maddox gathered her up, carried her to the far side of the bed that was still usable, and laid her down on the sheets that had survived the evening. He pulled the blanket over her and climbed in beside her.
He held her like she was the most valuable thing he’d ever been trusted with, and the man who had bid against a god for her, who had told a glowing king to choke on the moon, who had killed a man with his bare hands and caught his wife mid-fall and kissed her in front of five hundred witnesses, pressed his mouth to her hair and stayed there.
His dragon purred, deep and smug, the purr of a beast that had been saying mine since diplomat row and felt thoroughly, obnoxiously vindicated.
Excellent performance. We mated. We mated again. We marked. In that order.
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