EIGHTEEN

Kivrayn

This changes nothing.

Even though now I know what it feels like when she comes around my cock. Even though I might never be able to shake the mental image of her painted with me.

This will be the last time.

There’s no way I’m risking the chance that I’ll give into temptation and sink my teeth into her neck for the claiming bite that will truly make her mine. Because it doesn’t matter how sweetly she sucks the come from my cocks, her mouth is toxic and having a mate like that will quickly drive me to distraction.

No, I can’t claim her. So why do my wings itch to stretch and take flight so I can follow her, track her down, and drag her back to keep her in my bed the rest of the night?

Why do my claws and teeth ache to sink into her? My cocks are already hardening again at the thought of filling her tight little cunt with both at once and binding her to me completely.

With a growl I seize the vase from the table by the door and hurl it against the wall. The tiny smash is nowhere near enough to feel satisfying. I stalk across the room, overturning the coffee table, the sofa. Anything I can get my hands on .

Soon the room is in disarray and smoke billows from my nostrils. Scales stand out on the backs of my hands and arms, all along my neck.

I can’t fight the need to be near her, but I can’t let her see that weakness. So I hurl open the large windows in the bedroom and leap into the night air, taking my four-legged form and spreading large wings to soar between buildings.

It’s a testament to how far I’ve let things go already that I can pick up her scent on the wind enough to find the cab she got into.

The subtle drag on my senses turns me in the right direction and it doesn’t take me long to spot the black cab stopped at the set of traffic lights the next block from my hotel. Angling my wings, I lift a little higher, keeping my eyes fixed on her vehicle. I let the updrafts between the tall city buildings carry me without flapping. I follow them all the way back to a cheap-looking hotel on the outskirts of the city center. A little growl rumbles through my chest when the cab stops in front of the shabby gray building and Loren gets out.

Not even a doorman for security. The building is covered with tiny square windows too small for my four-legged form to fit through comfortably. Not even a balcony to give her access to the outside air from her room.

She disappears inside the hotel without spotting me hovering above. I drift to the roof and land, folding my wings against my scaly back. Her new boss is clearly a cheapskate to put her up in a dingy place like this. I squash the little twinge of regret I have about forcing her hand to work for a jerk like that. What was I supposed to do?

She deserves better than this, though .

I pace the roof, undecided what to do. I can’t reveal myself to her or snatch her and carry her back to my room. And anyway, I trashed it. I’ll have to pay for the hotel to fix it and probably move to a new hotel in the meantime. I need to control myself better.

Only I can’t. Not when she’s anywhere in my vicinity.

My protective instincts are on overdrive, though. Probably something about having actually been inside her. So I can’t leave. In the end, I find a spot beside a water tank on the roof and curl up, wrapping my tail around my body and tucking my head on top. I’ll be stiff and sore in the morning, but I’ll sleep better knowing I am right here, on hand to rescue her from any fire that might break out when faulty wiring causes a spark, or if some noxious gas begins to leak from the worn-down pipes which clearly haven’t been serviced in years.

It’s so uncomfortable, I struggle to sleep. It’s definitely not because I’m replaying images of Loren with her mouth around my cocks or the face she makes when she comes.

It does give me time to plot.

I need an angle to help convince Jenny to sell me her collection. I cast my mind back to the audience she held at her estate. To what she said about her children fighting over it. Perhaps that’s my chance. If I can get to the bottom of what’s going on there and throw some money at it, make her problem go away, will she sell it to me then?

It’s worth a shot.

Blunt force is the best I’ve got right now with Loren’s scent clinging to my skin and the phantom feel of her around my cock tormenting me. My brain certainly isn’t cooperating.

As tired as I am after the late night and the balls draining orgasm from earlier, I can’t seem to sleep. People come and go, even at this time of night, and every time a car passes or the wind changes and brings me a new scent, I’m alert.

It doesn’t smell right here. I can scent dozens of other males, all of them virile and probably just waiting to implant their seed into the waiting womb of my mate.

The thought isn’t a rational one. It’s not one I’d be prepared to admit to in the light of day, but it’s the one that swirls around and around in my head until I uncurl my tail from my body and stand with a huff of irritation. My balls are heavy with the weight of unspilled seed, despite unloading over her body before. Which is good, because I know what I need to do.

Her den should smell of me. I might not be able to claim her and mark her as mine, but I’ll make damn sure any other supe in the vicinity knows she’s off-limits to them as well.

I should have done something like this the moment that oaf of an orc started sniffing around her. Though it pleases me she already drove him away herself.

Perhaps that is a side to her sharp tongue I can appreciate.

I’ve shifted back to my two-legged form in a moment. I didn’t bother with clothes and my cocks emerge from my body to stiffen as soon as I shift. I’m already playing with them, thinking about the sight of Loren on her knees before me.

I had to spread my feet and lower myself to allow her to take me into her mouth. I do the same now, imagining her full lips, her tongue outstretched.

As I fist my cocks, squeezing them together, I groan in satisfaction at the memory of her soft wet mouth covering first one, then the other.

As I thrust my hips and slide my cocks through my fingers, I picture the way her eyes watered as I pushed into her throat, forced myself deep. The way she kept her gaze locked on mine.

Soon I’m panting. My motions are ragged.

I picture my stain on her skin, but my mind drifts to the delicate curve of her bare shoulder where my mark would look so pretty.

Fuck!

I’m coming before I mean to, hot liquid spurting from the tips and over my knuckles. I pump my cocks hard, thrusting forward, milking the last of my spend. It drips to the surface of the roof in a bright orange splatter. A hot, steaming claim that instantly lowers my hackles and makes my chest rumble with a purr of satisfaction.

Now I can transform back to my four-legged form and curl up to sleep. Now I can close my eyes, inhale the unmistakable scent of me mingled with the scent of this den. Unworthy as it is, it feels a little more permissible for her to be allowed to stay here. To sleep inside without me.

At least I can do this much to protect her .

The fact that I shouldn’t care is something I only consider after, as I’m drifting to sleep. And even that isn’t enough to jolt me to alertness. Instead I drift with it into blackness, unable to comprehend the reasons in the face of how right this feels.