The Dragon Comes (The Serpentine God #1) Page 4

  He lay them down on the bed. “I’m forgetting something.” He reached down and pulled out the box.

  She took the box from him, and he slowly pulled her knickers down, he looked at the short neat hair between her legs, and ran his finger down the middle of it, it was wet. He licked his finger. She moaned. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen, the whole thing was, the more she looked at him, the more insane it was.

  He gently spread her legs, he licked in one motion down the inside of her thigh, and looked at her, there was a little danger in those eyes. He nestled between her legs and kissed and sucked and licked her, not just her clit, but it felt like his mouth covered the whole of her, his tongue went everywhere. She nearly lifted off the bed. He gripped her waist tightly so she couldn’t move, he devoured her, she had never felt anything like it. It was deep and powerful, and it was just his mouth. She came quickly. She struggled against him as it ebbed away.

  He knelt up and looked at her, her face was flushed, her breaths quick. He licked her taste from his lips and between her legs.

  His long muscular body undulated close to hers. She felt the hardness of him between them.

  She opened the condom she held and opened it. He leant back fascinated as she sat up, her eye did not leave his cock. She placed a tender kiss on the tip. He raised his brows and she took him into her mouth, only a tease, but she smiled up at him, at the dark look there.

  She rolled it down his length and he growled. He grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled her forward, she fell on her back. He entered her slowly, making sure she was comfortable. She was perfect, he could go all the way in, and it didn’t hurt her. He moaned as he relaxed inside her. He let his weight press down.

  Her legs wrapped round him and he moved in a steady rhythm. Her fingers pressed into him, urging him on, loving the weight against her, the heat of his body warming her. He gained pace and momentum.

  He felt incredible inside her, she had never felt so fulfilled. The way he moved, the way he treated her. She arched back to look at him, and his face was blissful. She kissed his jaw and he looked down, he kissed her mouth, shifting position.

  “You are so good.” His voice had taken on a strange quality, deeper, rougher. She could barely speak, he took her a little harder, and when she cried out at it, it spurred him on.

  The friction rubbed against her clit, already so sensitive, her body convulsed at it, and he cried out with her. Her orgasm was strong around him, gripping him tighter, he lost all control, and roared as he pounded her to the finish. He took her hard, not worrying, he completely let go. He came with more force than he had done before.

  He was panting as he lay against her. He finally managed to recover enough to speak.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Oh my God. Yes.” He carefully withdrew, unsure of what to do with the condom. He gingerly pulled it off, and deposited in the bin in the room.

  She went to the bathroom, and came back with drinks. She was gloriously naked. He was hard again.

  He downed the drink.

  “I think I neglected you earlier.”

  “How so?” she was laughing. Her hair was in disarray, all the full waves were messy, he wanted to bury his face in it.

  “I did not make time for your breasts.” His eye had fallen to them. He was enraptured by the little movements of them as she laughed.

  “You cannot be ready again.”

  “I want to fuck you.” He said it in a slow lazy way, the accent twisting round the words. In most other circumstances, she’d have told him to piss off, but the way he did everything was alluring.

  She held her drink with one hand, and took his empty one and put it down. She pushed him back with one hand, and he went with a little smile. She felt bold and desired. She had always been so passive, always unfulfilled, but with this man, she felt alive, she felt her sexuality wake up and take over.

  She straddled his lap, drinking her drink, unhurried and unconcerned, he ran his hands over her body, gently, then squeezing. He used his palm then his fingertips. She was panting by the time he sat up, pulled her legs around him, and took her glass. He took a pert dark pink nipple into his mouth, kissing and licking it in the same way he had done her clit. She held onto his arms for dear life, as he moved between the two.

  He felt the wetness between them, and it was difficult not to just slide in. She was perfect for him, he fit so well in there.

  He felt her body stiffen against him, her little moans becoming louder. She undulated against him for friction and came in a sudden convulsion.

  He leant away and took another condom, he managed it himself, and holding her hips, guided her down. She was so tight from her orgasm he sucked his breath.

  “I need to take you.”

  “Do what you want. Please.” Her voice hazy, and he thrust up, her head lolled back, and she merely braced for it. He took her with a relentless frenzy and it seemed to go on forever. All she felt was him, all she knew was him.

  When he came, he pressed so hard into her, she cried out with him.

  She couldn’t even move, and closed her eyes. Petrio settled her next to him. She curled up to his body and they went to sleep.

  Four. Visions and truths

  Petrio felt a squeezing sensation, he opened his eyes to the dark, the thick void that was at once a great vast emptiness and a suffocating oil that crawled into him.

  He pushed up and through into the cavern of home, and he drew breath as he broke the surface. He caught the side, and with a guttural call, pulled himself up. He crouched in the spot, his head back, the black liquid dripping off him into thick puddles.

  He felt the change come all at once, time slowed, his insides pulled outwards, the bliss and release, stronger than any orgasm filled him. His skin burned as he was wrapped in yellow light.

  His call became deep, rumbling through the caves. He filled the space, his form as black as the stone. His long talons clicked on it. He couldn’t stretch out his great wings, and held them tight around his body, long, and winding. He clicked out of the cavern, and out onto the perch where newly ascended creatures would first taste the air. He opened his long jaw and his forked tongue tasted the breeze. His wings flapped out and he cried into the forest.

  Nothing stirred, not other creatures, not birds, there was nothing. Not even the wind rustled the leaves. He flapped once, and again, he pulled his great form up, and into the light breeze, he flew, as he never had, down over the treetops and away, out to the city. He landed on a tower, crumbling and spent. There were no people there, the city was a ruin. He called out again, long and keen. His slitted eyes opened and closed.

  He returned to the caverns, and found the old priest waiting for him. He was diminished and ancient, his robes were no more than rags.

  As he changed back, all the fear and loss he felt in the void returned. Generations of pain, and defeat, all the suffering of his kind, for centuries. Decades of suppression and lies. He felt a pull to the past, as if someone were reaching back to him from the darkness. The tar bubbled and oozed, it spilled out along the floor, and the priest stepped away.

  The desire to step away from his home pulsed, the tar moved to him, and to his feet, it anchored him, he couldn’t fight it. Yet he raged, it moved up his legs, and pulled him onto his belly with a hollow thud, and slid him back to the pool, he was contorted, struggling, until he was pulled up over the stone lip and down into the nothing.

  In the blackness, a hand pressed his chest, he was so cold, but the hand was warm and with it was a soothing noise, he purred at it, suddenly still in the chaos.

  “Petrio.” He opened his eyes and sat up. A layer of sweat dampened him, his breaths were ragged, and he shook.

  He looked at the woman with her hand on his chest. She was a warm glow in his cold sight. Tears filled his vision. He reached out a trembling hand and caressed her cheek.

  “Are you all right?”

  He couldn’t answer. He looked around the dark
room, and fumbled for the lamp. The marvel of electric light made him laugh at first, Dunalin watched him crouched by a lamp turning it on and off.

  The dim light reassured him. It was her bedroom, full of her scent.

  “I am sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She smoothed his wet hair, now hanging by his face. “Come on.” He realised that the bed was soaked in sweat. He felt a fool. A bad dream, that was all, yet it hadn’t felt as such, it was just how the void felt, he could feel it in his marrow.

  She led him to the bathroom. His body still shook, and his teeth began to chatter. He stepped into the warm water of the shower, and Caitlin disappeared.

  She changed the sheets, dumping the soaked ones in the laundry.

  She looked back to the bathroom door. He had screamed out, a strange sound, like nothing she had ever heard. She figured he had PTSD or something because of wherever he had escaped from. There was something not right with him. Something off, he looked like no man she had ever seen, his voice, manner, everything, wasn’t natural, not that she thought it was an act, but something about him made her wonder.

  He hadn’t move when she joined him, but he had stopped shaking.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head. He only watched her as she washed his hair and body, he leant on the tiles, slowly relaxing, leaving the vision behind, and let her tend to him. She soaped her hands and he smiled a little as she took his balls in her hands.

  “Would you like me to make you feel better?” he managed a nod. She massaged him until he was like rock, and rinsed him. She knelt down, and as the water streamed over him, she began to suck and lick at him.

  The night he spent with the women, they had spent so long just doing that, together, it was delightful, but this, her want of him was so clear, and she pulled him into her mouth all the way to the back, she couldn’t take much of him, but it felt so good. He fisted her wet hair, and urged her on. He came quickly, bucking into her mouth.

  Caitlin was surprised how much came out of him, more than any man she’d been with, on and on he went, and it didn’t taste the same either, it was sweeter.

  His legs nearly gave way, but he recovered himself, as he enfolded her. He wanted to claim her, to change and nestle her into his wings.

  He turned off the water after he let her go so she could wash. They dried each other off, he couldn’t take his eyes from her.

  He picked her up, and carried her back to the fresh bed. He pulled her close spooning her, kissed her hair, and gently caressed her.

  It was near dawn, and Caitlin knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep. She relaxed at his touch, breathing deep, she felt calm, and after a while, all she felt was his gentle touch.

  She leant her head back against his shoulder. He made love to her with his hands, touching her breasts, her clit, he pressed his fingers inside her, and his other hand skimmed her body. His erection nudged at her.

  “Again?”

  “Again.” The deep of his voice made her shiver.

  He shifted her hips back to him, and he held her hands up over her head, and she held onto the headboard. She waited, her eyes closed as she listened to him put the last condom on.

  He touched her reverently, she was so relaxed, so wet and ready. He held her hip firmly, lifted one leg back to give him access, she rested it on his thigh, and he pressed in so slowly she nearly came.

  “Don’t move.” She stayed rigid while he let go of her hip, and resumed caressing her body, all the while pulling out to the tip, then pushing in all the way. The arm he was propped up on, held onto her hair, the soft feel of it, still damp in his hands, was delightful.

  Her hands gripped the headboard tightly. Just when she felt a peak of pleasure in one spot, he’d move away, she panted, she begged, and her voice became incoherent, she could hear his growling breath. She wanted his hands on her nipples, but when they neared, he moved away, until he finally brushed over them, and she cried out. He felt her clench, he remained so slow, drawing out her pleasure until he could take no more. She was shuddering in the little aftershocks when he gripped her hip again, his fingers bit into the soft womanly curve, and met the muscle underneath.

  She tightened her grip, knowing what was coming, needing it, being jackhammered had never been appealing before, but the way he made love to her, giving her pleasure first, building his need, made her want it, it was satisfying, finally a feeling of completeness.

  He slammed into her, it hurt, but she liked it. He pounded her, her whole body gave into him. He gripped her thigh and parted her legs further. His grip was like iron. He came roaring as he did, the same strange sound as before. His skin was hotter, he felt bigger inside of her, her eyes fluttered, her body tightened, as he thrusted his last she seemed to float out of herself, the discomfort of how he was inside her sparkled pleasure, it was intense and shot through her whole body. He kept moving with her cries, and as it ebbed away, he leant forward, pushing her hair up. His large mouth opened and covered the back of her neck, she felt the gentle bite of teeth, and he made that noise again, a growl, but there was a sound underneath it. In her sated delirium, she couldn’t make sense of it.

  She wouldn’t be able to walk for a day or two.

  Caitlin was surprised to see him lying next to her when she woke. It was after ten. She yawned and stretched. The muscles of her thighs ached, and she was a little sore when she stood. The term fucked by a train came to mind.

  She was still holding the kettle at the sink when she blinked and realised he was watching her. Naked. Still naked. She swallowed.

  “How are you Caitlin?”

  She smiled at the genuine concern in his voice. “Completely sated, and somewhat sore, thank you. And you?”

  “Sad that we have no more condoms.” She laughed. He looked genuinely upset.

  “Sorry, but I’m not sure I could if we did.”

  “Are you in much pain?”

  “No, just sore, I think it’ll be gone by tomorrow.” She smiled. “Tea?”

  He shook his head. “I should go. I do not want to hurt you more, and we have no condoms.” His mouth said one thing, and his body another, he was hard again, his eye raked over her body.

  “Petrio. You came four times, you cannot want me again.”

  “I do not have to hold back, you want everything I give. It is wonderful, I want it again, and that is why I should go.”

  She nodded, part of her was relieved, he was so intense, part of her was devastated. Jesus, if he asked her to be his sex slave, she might say yes.

  He left the kitchen and dressed. She was on the settee drinking her tea when he joined her. He ran his finger along the hem of her robe, his mouth opened and he sucked in a breath when she shivered at his touch.

  “I want to see you again.”

  “You do?”

  “Why would I not? Were you not in your bed with me last night? Was it not good?” he leant in as he spoke, hot breath on her skin, she moaned and her head fell back. He kissed her neck, and down between her breasts. He groaned.

  “Yes, I want to see you too.”

  “Good.” He grumbled. “When?”

  “Tonight?” At least she’d have the day to recover a bit.

  “I shall come here, at seven.”

  She could only nod. His head nudged open her robe and she nearly threw her mug and the tea in it up in the air. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, and let it slide slowly out, drawing tight in his lips as he did. He looked at the long dark peak with longing.

  He took the cup from her hand and put it down, and completely opened her robe. His eye went from one nipple to the other. He took the other one in his mouth, and she cried out.

  “I love your body, it responds so well to me.” Her chest rose and fell. He kissed her, the heat of him rising again. She had never known a man to be so physically hot, in every sense of the word.

  He dragged himself back, he looked in pain. “I need to go.” She only swallowed, and then he was gon
e.

  She lay on the settee for a good hour, trying to put her mind back together. This man was dangerous. Danger might be good for her, she had a boring, ordinary life so far, and she wanted something else. She hadn’t realised how bored she was.

  She wasn’t bored now.

  Petrio wanted her urgently. He was not a human, not like them, but he was no monster. He focused his breathing and walked, he hoped the cold air would do him good. He stopped at a café, starved, and he salivated at the smell of food.

  He ate the extra-large full English breakfast, and he was drinking the tea he had with it, when his phone rang.

  “Have fun?”

  “Yes. She was everything I hoped. I will see her again, she is recovering.”

  Petrio smiled at Dunalin’s laughter. “Good my friend.”

  He took in everything of the city around him as he walked, full, the urgency to change abated, and finally he was relaxed enough to absorb the details around him.

  He paid no attention to where he went, he wandered, he saw a sign for the natural history museum, and decided to go.

  When he stepped inside, towering above the busy Saturday crowds, he stopped in his tracks. He stared at the assembled bones of the creature that greeted him with excitement and sadness. He circled it repeatedly.

  No, it was not his kind, but similar. He devoured everything on offer in the museum, thoughts and ideas whirling around his head. He had to get home.

  He reached the penthouse in the early afternoon. Dunalin was sat at his laptop, in his favourite chair, looking perfectly at ease.

  Petrio wondered if he would ever attain that.

  “What is it? Did you get lost?”

  “No, I wandered the city. I went to the natural history museum. Have you seen it?”

  “We are not dinosaurs.” He sounded petulant.

  “I know, but I have been thinking.” His brow furrowed, he was still unclear in his mind. Last night had overwhelmed him, and his vision frightened him.