Treasured by the Dragon

Ch 17: Report

I lick my lips and mount the bed, kneeling down with his legs trapped between mine.

One hand grips the base of his shaft while the other seeks the swollen head. My thumb drags over the clear slickness beading at the tip and circles the velvety soft skin so the whole thing glistens. My other thumb does its best to form a circle around his cock with my forefinger.

I then make slow, sumptuous laps up and down his rigid length.

I bite my lip, my confidence faltering ever so slightly. He hasn't made a single sound since my hands touched him. I cast a shy glance up from the tops of my eyes.

There I find him watching me with a heaving chest.

Once our gazes meet, he groans with something akin to ecstasy. With faith renewed, I increase the pressure of my ring and explore the edge of the head, checking every nook and curve to find just the right spot to push him directly over the edge.

When my fingers graze the taut skin connecting the tip with the shaft, his whole body lurches. My grip around his length is a fist gently twisting while pumping with increasing speed. One finger massages my new little discovery on the backside of the head while my thumb continues to collect every drop of overflowing need that slips from him.

He's not quiet anymore, and his hands dig into the sheets with a white-knuckled grip. He's hotter than the very fire of his heart, and I'm not sure his skin can withstand the tension inside.

My mouth waters. His cock might be the tastiest looking thing I've ever seen.

Driven wild with hunger and lust, I dip down and dig the tip of my tongue into the top of his tightened sack. A roar rumbles in his chest. I drag upwards, savoring the length of him until I reach the head. That, however, deserves more than a simple lick. No, I want it all.

I open my mouth and wrap my lips around him, swiping my tongue right across his little slit as I do.

"Wait!"

His warning is barely intelligible upon his heavy breath and I don't register it until I feel his hands on my shoulders. With a forceful nudge, I tumble to the other side of the mattress and catch only a glimpse of his release as it paints his stomach.

"Feeling better?" I ask, because I'm too giddy to form anything better to say.

Cephias looks at me without even a cursory pass of his blanket over his sticky torso. He instead turns and presents my work without shame. I realize how slick I am and I want to go right back in, but this time with my own pool of desire accessible for any wandering hands.

"Should I take your silence as a no?" There's a mischievous bounce to my words and my voice sounds foreign to my own ears. "Perhaps I should try a bit harder this time and—"

"Sir, I can't keep waiting for this nonsense to end."

The booming voice tears a screech from my lips, and I dive into the mountain of pillows. A smack of metal against the stone wall follows as the door is thrown open.

Pounding feet cross the room, and I dig my burning face deeper into the protective cushions.

"Peter, what in the hells do you think you're doing barging in here! And why aren't you on patrol? You aren't due back for another two weeks."

Cephias's voice is harsh and full of gravel, but I can hear the tight clip of anxiety in the background. As pissed as he is, this unexpected disruption can only mean trouble.

"Cousin, do you think I would break patrol and return home just to listen to you jack off for no good reason?"

I groan into the pillow and curl my knees to my chest so I can become as small as possible.