Page 43 of Connor and the Dragons

The compliment slipped over me, warm and sure, and my eyes closed as I began moving faster, suddenly desperate to prove his words true. My mouth was perfect, and I hoped that it was so perfect that he could not resist feeding me a load of his cum.

I took him to the root and swallowed around him, and his thigh went hard under my hand. I pulled back slow with my tongue dragging flat along the underside and felt the vein there pulse against it, and did it again, and again, hollowing my cheeks, and the taste of him sharpened, salt blooming at the back of my tongue, and both hands tightened in my curls at once, which was its own reward.

“Oallian.” My name tore out of him with a crack down the middle of it. “You want my cum? Right here, in front of everyone?”

I met his eyes and hummed my yes around his cock, long and deliberate, and watched my master’s composure die.

His grip clamped my curls, his hips jolted upward, and he fucked up into my mouth three times, four, short and hard and helpless, and I braced and breathed through my nose and took him with my eyes tearing up, just a little, making sure my mouth was tight and wet and warm around him. He went rigid everywhere at once, a soft groan slipping from his lips as his cock pulsed, rope after rope of cum spilling across my tongue.

It was salty and hot, very nearly as hot as me, and it was a delicious reward, better than any pastry that I had tried tonight. I swallowed, not wanting to waste a drop, working him through it with my tongue while his thighs shook against me.

My own caged cock throbbed against its leather, pain and joy in the same heartbeat, and I would not have traded the ache for a hundred freedoms. I was owned, and I was theirs, and I belonged somewhere. I wanted it to be more than a stunt we were pulling to break into some wizard’s house.

Somewhere behind me a few watchers murmured their appreciation.

I cleaned him with long careful passes of my tongue, making sure I didn’t lose a single drop of cum. When I was done, I tucked his softening cock away, and laced his trousers shut. When I looked up, my master’s cheeks were flushed and his breathing had not yet recovered its cool, and he dragged his thumb across my wet lips and pressed it briefly into my mouth.

“Every drop,” he said, hoarse. “Good boy.”

I had been handed entire chests of gold in my time. This was better.

The dragon inside me would have scoffed at the knowledge that a mere human was this right for us, but he had no voice, because Connor had silenced it. Finally.

Was Vyranthos stunned into submission by this erotic experience?

I snuggled close, head resting on Connor’s thigh while Kessrin’s fingers played with my hair, and Connor gently kissed Kessrin’s neck. The room’s attention moved on to other performances.

That was when the note arrived.

I didn’t see who slipped it onto our table, but I noticed it when Connor picked it up. It was a small square of cream paper sealed with a drop of silver wax, and Connor opened it lazily, and I read it upside down from his knee.

The Hall requests the pleasure of your company. A gathering, in four days’ time, through the purple curtains, second door on the left. The evening’s password is dumpling.

And the moment the last word was read, the paper dissolved. It crumbled to fine glittering dust between Connor’s fingers and drifted down over his lap and the couch and my hair.

I tried to save some. It was pure instinct, the reflex of a creature who had guarded treasure for centuries, my hand cupped under the falling glitter before I had decided anything, and the dust melted where it touched my palm and was simply gone.

“How theatrical,” Connor said while his hand tightened in my curls hard enough to tell me the truth.

Kessrin had gone very still against his side, and this time no part of him was warm, and a small circle of ice crystals had formed on the velvet cushion next to him. I reached out and covered it with his cloak, and tried to radiate my natural heat into him, to see if external warmth might soothe him.

We stayed long enough to be unremarkable about leaving, pretending to watch the room while we both put our energy into warming Kessrin. But it soon became apparent that Kessrin needed to leave or risk exposure, so we slipped out, thanking the staff and dropping one last coin into the tithe.

The night outside was cool and smelled of canal water and rain that hadn’t decided yet, and I bounced down the Hall’s steps on my leash, as I replayed the evening at triple volume: the dumplings, the appraising waiter, the room of golden couches, the weight of my master on my tongue in front of everyone. Connor walked with the loose satisfaction of a man whose plan had worked and who had also, incidentally, had an excellent blow job. If I do say so myself.

Kessrin walked very close to Connor’s other side, hood forward, and said, in a voice so quiet I nearly missed it, “People kept staring at me. All evening.” He let the words sit a moment. “I did not like it.”

I leaned around Connor, caught Kessrin’s eye, and winked at him.

“Well,” I said, “if you don’t want to be stared at, maybe you should be less beautiful.”

CHAPTER 16: KESSRIN

Connor unlocked the door of our room and held it open for us. “I’ll go across and tell Sky how it went. They’ll want to know about the invitation before—”

Connor stopped mid-sentence, when his eyes landed on me. Instead of leaving, he shut the door behind us and turned the lock.

“Aren’t you going to talk to Sky?” Oallian asked, tilting his head.