Page 94 of Connor and the Dragons

“You came?” Connor asked.

I collapsed onto the bed beside him, a strange, insistent ache coursing through me. I tried to convince myself that the experience had been perfectly pleasurable, but there was something missing.

Oallian turned toward me, eyes wide. “Oh gods! Your heat. Sorry, I should have saved my cum for your hole. I didn’t realize how good you’d feel inside me.” His cheeks were pink. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“It’ll be okay, Oallian. Next time he fucks you, we’ll cage you first,” Connor said, glancing at Oallian’s original cage, the makeshift bundle of leather straps that had once held ropes on a basket and now sat in a place of honor on my nightstand.

Oallian was already back on his feet. “One more trip to the hoard! Be right back. I have the perfect thing to cheer you up, Kess,” he called. He was out the balcony door and leaping into the air, still in human form, transforming into the dragon form mid-fall, then reeling back around and giving us a cheerful little wave.

“I can’t believe he left again.”

“I think he wants to make you happy,” Connor said, cupping my chin and kissing my lips. He pulled the blanket up over us both.

“He doesn’t need to do that. It all felt very nice.”

“Just not enough?”

I shrugged, a little afraid to answer, because what did that make me?

Connor laughed. “Don’t worry, the new one should be finished tomorrow. We’ll contain him, once he stops moving for a moment. This one has a lock, and two keys, one for each of us.”

“I like that,” I whispered, thinking about having Oallian’s caged cock for my use whenever I needed it. My hole fluttered as I imagined unlocking him and ordering him to stuff it inside me any time the heat got to be too much to bear.

Could I be that bold with him? I whimpered and pressed close to Connor, wishing Oallian hadn’t left. I would suck both of my men until they were hard again, and insist that they fill this emptiness inside me.

No, I definitely couldn’t be that bold. Could I?

Under the blanket, Connor’s hand slid down my back and over my ass, and one fingertip stroked across my hole. I was still wet from him. He circled it, slowly, and did not press in, and I held my breath.

“Tell me what you want, Kess.”

“I would not object if—”

The finger stopped moving.

“That’s a treaty clause, sweetheart. Try again.”

“It would be reasonable, given the circumstances, for—”

“That’s a memorandum.” He kissed my forehead. “You negotiate for a living. You can do better than that. Plain words. Practice communicating the things you find difficult to say.”

I pressed my face into his chest, where he could not see it. “Put your finger in me. Please. I want to feel full.”

“Good boy,” he said, and he did.

My hole clenched around his finger. One finger was nothing. It was a tease. But it was something to squeeze, and I sighed and hooked my leg over his hip to give him room. He arranged the blankets around us, kissing me lightly on the lips.

“Perhaps sharing his hoard is how Oallian shows love,” Connor said, as if nothing at all were happening under the blanket.

“Oallian doesn’t show love any specific way.” I pressed back into his hand, trying to force his finger deeper. “Oallian is love, it just pours out of him. Every hug, every inappropriate comment, every random kiss. Hell, he told us he loved us way back in Liminia.”

Connor laughed. “I didn’t realize he meant romantic love then. I thought that was like… when you’re drunk and you tell all your friends ‘I love you, man.’”

“Definitely not.” His finger slid out and in, lazily, and it was not enough. “Connor. Another. Please give me another finger.”

He gave me a second one, and he spread them inside me, and I lost the thread of the conversation for a moment, because the stretch was very nearly satisfying.

Connor pulled back, studying me, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’ll have to help me, then. It seems I’m a little slow to realize things. I had no idea you were listening to what I said to Sky when you were flying.” His free hand skimmed down my arm, soothing and massaging the muscles where I’d been injured. “That must have hurt, and I’m sorry.”