"You're the most exquisite thing I've ever touched," he breathed against her hair, arms tightening until he could feel the frantic hammer of her heart against his own. "And you're giving every inch of this to me."

Sierra melted into him, face buried in his throat, lips brushing his pulse—a soft, open-mouthed kiss that tasted of salt and surrender. "I want to be yours," she whispered, voice trembling with the weight of it. "Every breath. Every shiver. All of me."

Phei held her tighter—one hand splayed across the bare, trembling warmth of her back, the other cradling her nape, fingers threaded through silk-soft hair—and felt the full, devastating miracle of her body against his: warm, alive, shaking with trust and want and something deeper neither of them had words for yet.

In that moment, clothed only in his arms and the soaked scrap of lace between her thighs, Sierra was more naked than skin alone could ever make her—every sense flooded with her scent, her taste, the velvet heat of her skin, the soft, broken sounds of her breathing his name like a prayer.

And he worshipped her for it, silent and shaking, until the world narrowed to nothing but the feel of her finally, fully in his hands.

Phei's hands slid up the warm satin of her bare back, anchoring her as he lowered his mouth to her breasts—slow, deliberate, like a man approaching something sacred and forbidden all at once.

He started with one perfect, flushed nipple—lips closing around the tight peak in a hot, wet pull that dragged a sharp, trembling cry from her throat.

The taste of her skin exploded across his tongue—the subtle sweetness of clean sweat blooming under arousal.

He sucked harder, cheek hollowing, tongue lashing the stiff bud in slow, relentless circles, then grazing it with his teeth just enough to make her hips jerk forward and her fingers fist in his hair.

His free hand kneaded the neglected breast, thumb flicking its twin peak in merciless rhythm, pinching just hard enough to send sparks of sharp pleasure-pain shooting straight to her core.

He moved to the other breast, mouth open and hungry, lavishing the same worship—sucking until the nipple darkened and glistened, swollen and shining with his saliva.

Her chest heaved, soft, heavy flesh pressing into his face as she arched, offering more, begging without words. He groaned against her—the vibration rumbling through her sensitive skin and buried his face between her breasts for a moment, breathing her in deep, lips brushing the slick valley he'd made.

His teeth scraped lightly along the inner curve of one breast, leaving faint red trails that made her gasp and grind instinctively against his thigh.

Then lower.

Kisses trailed down the trembling plane of her stomach—hot, open-mouthed, tongue dipping into her navel, tasting the faint quiver of muscle beneath silk skin. His hands skimmed her hips, thumbs hooking the delicate lace waistband of her thong. He didn't use his fingers to pull it down.

He used his mouth.

Teeth caught the lace edge just above her mound—a gentle, possessive bite, tugging slowly downward.

The fabric dragged over her hips with a soft rasp, soaked center clinging wetly to her folds before peeling away with a slick sound that made them both shudder.

He worked it down her thighs using only lips and teeth—nipping at the sensitive crease where leg met hip, tongue tracing the newly bared skin, breathing hot against her as the lace finally slipped to her ankles.

Each nip drew a fresh whimper from her lips, her arousal dripping heavier now, the scent thickening the air between them like a palpable haze.

Sierra stood bare before him now, trembling, thighs slick and shining with her arousal, pussy swollen and flushed dark rose, lips parted and glistening in the low light.

Phei stayed on his knees, hands sliding up the backs of her thighs to grip her ass and pull her closer. He didn't touch her with his mouth yet.

He just breathed.

A slow, deep inhale—nose brushing the soft, trimmed curls above her clit, drawing in the thick, intoxicating scent of her arousal: sweet, warm, unmistakably her, like ripe summer fruit and clean musk and raw, desperate need.

The smell hit him like a drug—heady, overwhelming, flooding his senses until his cock throbbed heavy and aching against his trousers, the dragon waking fully with a low, possessive growl in his chest.

His fingers dug deeper into the plush flesh of her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, exposing her even more to his gaze and the cool air, heightening the vulnerability that made her clench and drip anew.

He exhaled—hot breath washing over her exposed pussy in a deliberate, teasing gust. Her clit twitched visibly; fresh slick welled and slipped down her inner thigh. Another breath—closer now, lips almost brushing her folds but never quite touching, just letting the heat of his exhale torment her sensitive, dripping flesh.

He let the barest graze of his lower lip feather along one slick fold, not quite contact, just the ghost of promise that made her entire body jolt with electric frustration.

Sierra's knees buckled. A broken whimper tore from her throat—"Phei… please…"—her hands fisting tighter in his hair, hips rocking forward in helpless need.

He inhaled again, deeper, nose nudging just beneath her clit, savoring the wet, sweet flood of her scent like it was oxygen he'd been denied for years. His eyes closed; a low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest—pure, animal hunger.

The dragon was fully awake now.

And it was starving for her. Phei stayed on his knees, hands locked on the firm curve of her ass, holding her open and steady while her thighs trembled around his shoulders. He didn't touch her yet. He just breathed—slow, deliberate, filthy.

Hot air washed over her dripping pussy in a long, teasing exhale, the heat of it making her swollen clit pulse visibly, another thick bead of slick welling at her entrance and slipping down to coat his thumb where it gripped her.

He watched it fall, transfixed, then inhaled again—deep, shameless, nose buried just beneath her clit in the soft, soaked curls. One thumb traced the trail of her slick upward, stopping just short of her entrance, spreading the wetness in lazy circles that never quite satisfied.

The scent of her slammed into him like a drug: warm, honey-sweet arousal thick enough to taste on the back of his tongue, laced with the clean musk of her skin and the faint, intoxicating edge of nervous surrender.

His cock jerked hard against his trousers, painfully rigid now, precome soaking through the fabric in a steady pulse. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest—raw, possessive, the dragon fully roused and snarling for its due.

Sierra's hips bucked involuntarily, trying to chase his mouth. "Phei—please—touch me—"

He denied her.

Another slow exhale, hotter this time, aimed directly over her clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves throbbed in response; her folds fluttered open wider, glistening, begging. He watched every tiny spasm, every fresh gush of slick that painted her inner thighs shiny, and dragged in another lungful of her scent like he was starving for it.

His tongue darted out briefly, wetting his lips with a deliberate swipe she could hear, the sound obscene in the charged silence, making her imagine that tongue on her instead.

"Fuck," he rasped against her, voice wrecked. "You smell like sin, princess. Like the sweetest, wettest cunt I've ever had dripping for me."

His lips hovered a breath away from her clit—close enough that she could feel the promise of contact, far enough that every tiny movement of air tortured her. He let the tip of his nose nudge her folds, parting them just barely, gathering her wetness on his skin without giving her the pressure she craved.

He hummed low in his throat, the vibration carrying through the air to buzz against her clit like a phantom touch, drawing a strangled cry from her.

Sierra's hands tightened in his hair, pulling hard enough to sting. Her thighs shook violently now, slick running freely down her legs. "I can't—please—I need your mouth, I need—"

He pulled back an inch, denying her again, letting cool air replace the heat of his breath. Her pussy clenched on nothing, a visible, desperate flutter that made his cock leak harder.

"Not yet," he growled, voice dark and strained with his own restraint. "I want you soaked and shaking so hard you can't stand. I want this perfect virgin cunt weeping for my tongue before I give it even one lick."

His gaze locked on hers from below, dark and predatory, as he blew a cooler stream of air this time, contrasting the heat and making her nerves scream for more.

He blew another slow, deliberate stream of hot air directly across her clit—watching it swell further, watching her hips jerk helplessly forward, chasing friction that wasn't there.

Sierra sobbed his name, body arching, every muscle drawn bow-tight with unbearable need.

And still he held her on the edge—teasing, inhaling her, letting the erotic agony build until the air itself felt like it might ignite.

The room filled with the wet sounds of her desperation—soft slicks and shivers, her ragged breaths mingling with his low growls—until she was nothing but a trembling, aching plea suspended in the torment of almost.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.