CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

My moon bound bride calls my name as she climaxes, and never has a sweeter song been sung.

A possessive, feral pleasure fills my chest. I groan, happy to have satisfied her well. For I can no longer deny it.

She is mine .

I’m not worthy of her, but Selena wants me, and I can deny her nothing.

Her core tightens around me in a wild dance, her fluids coating us both.

I strain with everything I have to fight off my own pleasure for as long as possible. I cannot knot her here in this room without even a door, this room that belongs to others instead of me. It doesn’t matter that the dragons are allies.

I need to claim her fully in a place that’s mine.

Her scream of pleasure still echoes through my soul as her eyes flutter open, a wicked glint brightening the rich copper brown. Her muscles clamp tight around me.

I groan, hips jerking as the need to fill , to thrust , takes over. My tight balls contract even farther, pulling close to my body, aching to release. She grips me so tightly, her core tugs at each piercing as I withdrawal, the sensation delicious.

Over and over, I plunge into her, the desire to be as close as two people can be overwhelming. I love her. She is mine.

She is my moon bound bride.

I may be the biggest fool in all the realms for having denied it, but I cannot deny this—the feeling of wholeness I find when bound this tightly to her.

Selena crests another peak, her body shaking below me, her breath broken up into little gasps I love.

I pull out at the last second, thrusting between our stomachs. Pleasure courses down my spine, singing through my balls and out of my cock. Orc seed splashes everywhere, slicking our stomach and chests and pouring down her sides to wet the furs. My knot grows, trapped between us with delicious pressure, sending shudders of aftershocks racing through me.

Selena clings to me, her hands on my shoulders, her knees gripping my sides as my weight settles fully onto her for several moments. We gasp and shake, both trying to catch our breath .

My heart slows from its wild race, and I use the hand still pressed to her ass to spin us onto our sides without losing contact. I’m not ready to give up the feel of her against my knot. This isn’t anything near what I imagine it will feel like to truly knot her, but it’s still wonderful.

My seed covers her stomach and chest and sides. She will smell like me. It appeases a part of my feral possessiveness, but only part. Goddess, how I want this woman!

She gives a soft little huff of amusement. “I’m not sure who made the bigger mess, you or me.”

“Definitely me,” I say, rubbing my seed into her breasts.

She loops a thigh over mine, hooking her heel in the back of my knee. “Stop being funny. I’m still mad at you.” Yet her lip twitch gives the lie to her words.

“Did I not just make it up to you?” I brush a lock of hair off her cheek.

She shakes her head and gives a sleepy yawn. “But that was a good start.”

“Start is good,” I say. Start means more to come. Start means a future with Selena in my arms, in my life, as my bride.

The kind of future I never let myself imagine before.

When my internal clock wakes me for dawn, I make love to my bride again as we lie on our sides, rocking into her carefully until she shatters around me, her orgasm slow and sweet .

She sighs into my shoulder afterward, happy and spent. Then she whispers, “Still mad.”

It surprises a delighted chuckle from me. “How long do you expect to be angry for?”

“Oh, years at least.” Her beautiful eyes sparkle with mischief and life. “Maybe a decade.”

“I see I have my work cut out for me.”

“Yep. Lots and lots of… work .”

I pull her to me and press a kiss to her soft lips, careful with my tusks.

Then I ease back and sing, Under the Apple Tree pouring from me for an audience of one.

It doesn’t matter that this song has existed for centuries, because here and now with her, it’s as if I sing it for the first time. As if it was written so long ago just so I could perform it this morning.

I sing this song for the thousandth time, yet it feels as if all of the other times were practice. This is my first time truly singing it, feeling it. Never have the words meant more. Never has the longing in the melody been this great. And it is only for her.

I repeat the first verse an extra time, the one that best speaks of what she means to me—what she does for me by bringing her joy into my life.

Come, lay thee under the apple tree,

And I’ll eat your fruit all night.

For you are the lovely lass for me,

Who bathes my heart in light .

As the last note fades, she pulls me back to her, pressing her lips to mine fervently. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I love that song.”

“It is yours,” I say. “I sing it only for you now.”

“Oh, Sturrm.” Her lips tremble, so much joy and emotion shining in her eyes I don’t know what to say, so I kiss her again.

A loud throat clear comes from the open entrance to our cave. Dash says, “You two better get decent. I don’t think I can hold them back any longer.”

My head whips around and I sit up, yanking up a fur to cover Selena. “Who?”

The sound of numerous feet—numerous tiny feet—echoes from the tunnel, and I relax.

A tiny frown of confusion mars Selena’s brow, human hearing not as acute as mine. “Sturrm, what is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes surprises.”

“I don’t, for me,” I say. “But for you…” Selena’s exactly the type to like good surprises, so I don’t ruin it.

Her pleased squeal as Reevie and the other dragon babies tumble into the cave is all the thanks I need. Selena sits up and tucks the fur into her armpits, using her upper arms to hold it in place over her impressive chest.

They pour over her legs like a flood, all of them demanding head scratches, with the tiny red dragon the most adamant.

Two of them who are pushed to the back climb onto my lap, huge gold and purple eyes staring up at me beseechingly. “Please, pleeeeeze.”

“How can I refuse?” A grumbling laugh shakes my chest as I rub around their feathery crests, feeling the first tiny bumps of future horns. They lean into my touch with a trustful innocence that does things to my chest. Even though I like younglings, they normally keep their distance from me, scared off by my frowns. But Selena’s joy and delight shines brightly enough for the both of us. I am the moon, reflecting her bright sunlight, so I appear appealing and approachable.

It’s yet another thing to love about my sunny bride.