Dragon Desire

A swatch of curls as dark as those on his head, covered his sac. The pale stalk of his erection protruded snake-like from the forest of his dark hairs. She traced a finger against the sweat-slick skin and sighed when she reached the swollen end of his glans. It was fat, bulbous and already dewy with arousal.

Tavia did not lay claim to any gifts of second sight but she could tell that Alvar, son of Erland, wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She stroked her thumb over the rounded end of his erection and watched him shiver with need.

‘Don’t just tickle it,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ve asked you to suck the damned thing.’

She moved her face close to him and allowed her long blonde tresses to caress his shaft. Positioning her head carefully she blew soft breath against the side of his length. Savouring the way he squirmed she moved closer and drew her tongue against him.

He gasped.

During the week when she had first been introduced to the pleasures of the flesh, as she languished in the highest tower of Blackheath Priory between bouts of tasting Robert’s dragon horn and the hours when she watched her sister lie beneath him, Tavia had taken pains to learn how best she could satisfy the needs of a man.

Robert of Moon Valley was not a patient lover but he was precise and particular. Because they had been drinking dragon horn, an elixir noted for improving the pleasures of sex, he insisted that those pleasures they enjoyed were of an exacting standard from the beginning. He had been meticulous and instructive in every aspect of intercourse. He had gone to great lengths to school Tavia in the proper ways for a woman to use her mouth on a man’s flesh, and the memory of his words now echoed in her thoughts as a reminder of how she could best please Alvar, son of Erland.

She savoured the taste of the seer’s clean sweat, murmuring appreciatively as she worked her tongue from the curls at his balls up to the tip of his erection. Robert of Moon Valley had told her that a man liked to hear murmurs of appreciation from the woman lapping at his length and she felt sure that Alvar would take satisfaction from her sighs of approval. Her hands clutched at his thighs as she pressed her face closer.

It crossed her mind that she wasn’t doing everything just for the pleasure of Alvar. A good deal of what she was doing was adding to the burgeoning swell of her personal satisfaction. A fat balloon of excitement swelled in her stomach. It wasn’t large to the point of bursting – yet. But she knew that moment would soon come and undoubtedly make her crave further pleasures.

His hands fell to her hair.

He tugged at her long, blonde tresses.

Spikes of pain bristled through her scalp. She wanted to brush his hands away, unhappy with the flares of discomfort and not sure she wanted him trying to control her. But she did like that he was exerting some authority. She also wanted to give him a memorable bout of satisfaction, so allowed him to think he was in control.

This was sex without dragon horn.

Tavia knew that sex without dragon horn would only ever be a pale shadow of what she could hope to enjoy until she was again relishing the effects of the elixir’s anise-rich flavour. And, whilst common sense told her that she had to make the experience good for Alvar in order to make it pleasurable for herself, Tavia also knew that Alvar’s enjoyment of this experience was of paramount importance. If the seer was content with the way she pleasured him, he would be more likely to give her the help that came from his gift of second sight.

‘Suck it,’ he groaned. ‘I want to feel your mouth around me.’

She didn’t do as he commanded. There was a difference between making the experience pleasurable for both of them and doing everything that the seer bade.

Once his length was slathered with the wetness from her tongue, she pursed her lips and blew at him again. His erection throbbed with sullen heat. She knew his flesh would be bristling beneath the slick liquid layer of saliva she had lapped against him. As her chilly breath blew against him she knew he would be relishing the rush of warming and cooling sensations.

Briefly she wished she had been born a man, so she could experience some of the magnificent pleasure she was bestowing on the privileged and fortunate seer. Then she shut that thought from her mind, knowing that none of Alvar’s pleasures would ever compare to those that she had enjoyed under the influence of dragon horn, nor those that she planned to savour in the future.

She was squatting in front of him. The hem of her kirtles was hitched up so the red and gold fabrics weren’t touching the dirt of the dungeon floor. Tavia urgently pressed two fingers against the wetness between her legs.

Her flesh was warm and moist.

Her fingers slipped inside with such ease it tore a gasp of surprise from her throat. She pushed deeper, delighted by the way her velvet depths parted to accommodate the plundering fingers. The sensation of being spread and filled was so sudden and intense it left her momentarily breathless.

‘Are you touching yourself?’ he asked.

She moved her mouth from his length. ‘Yes,’ she answered truthfully. ‘Why do you ask?’

She glanced up and saw he was shaking his head in disbelief.

‘You’re possibly the horniest wench I’ve ever encountered. I truly have to see what you’re like when you’re drinking dragon horn because I think you’d likely suck me inside out.’

‘Does that mean I can rely on your fealty to my quest?’ she asked.

‘Suck my cock until I’ve finished,’ he said.

The words were spat with the urgent insistence of a man on the brink of climax. His hands tightened in the blonde tresses they held. He tried to guide her face forcefully to return to his erection.

‘Suck my cock and we can discuss your quest and my fealty once you’ve swallowed every drop of my spend.’

She continued to stare up at him, refusing to let him control how she delivered his pleasure.

‘How do you know I’ll swallow your spend? How do you know I won’t spit your seed to the cobbled stones of the dungeon floor?’

He smiled down at her. ‘I am Alvar, son of Erland,’ he explained. ‘I am the famed seer of the Red River. I was intimate counsel to Kendric of Cambrai Typus. I know the future.’ He chuckled with a confidence so strong it was almost tangible. ‘And you, Tavia of Blackheath, are going to swallow every drop of spend I squirt into your mouth.’

The fingers between her legs pressed with renewed haste. She could hear the faraway squelch of her wetness slurping greedily. As she rubbed back and forth, the blossoming eddies of delight began to sparkle in her hypersensitive nerve-endings. Her inner muscles clenched and convulsed hungrily.

‘Suck me,’ he insisted.

She finally placed her mouth around his end. She stretched her lips wide to encircle his glans. He was large and she found that trait to be exciting. After placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his shaft she sucked lightly against him.

‘At last,’ he sighed. ‘Keep doing that.’

She kept one hand between her own legs whilst the other went to the base of his shaft. Holding him tight between her fingers she worked her mouth wetly back and forth along his length. All the time she tried sucking on him, maintaining a wet vacuum of pressure on his shaft. And, all the time, she could taste the flavour of his nearing climax as it filled her mouth.

‘Go on,’ he insisted. ‘That’s what I want.’

It was impossible to stifle the wet sounds of enthusiasm she was making as she used her mouth on him. She was almost spluttering with the need to giggle happily as she savoured the quickening taste of his excitement and listened to the guttural grunts of his mounting pleasure.

Her fingers rubbed swiftly against her cleft. The inner muscles of her sex were drenched with their liquid heat and the outer lips tingled with the encroaching rush of satisfaction.

‘Go on,’ he urged. ‘Suck me faster. Suck me quicker. Swallow it all, you horny wench. Swallow it all.’

She allowed him to push against the back of her throat.

The swollen end of his length felt too large. Robert had sung the praises of any maiden willing to part-swallow a man’s length. But Tavia wasn’t sure she could manage the feat for Alvar. If there had been dragon horn, she knew the drink would have made her throat muscles relax enough to swallow anything that was put in her mouth.

But, without the dragon horn, she was in unfamiliar territory.

Nevertheless, because it was now important to her that the seer should be deeply satisfied by this encounter, she urged her throat to accept him and she tried to guide his end deeper into her mouth.

‘Damn,’ he gasped. The exclamation came out in a hoarse croak. There was honest reverence in his tone. ‘You know how to pleasure a man, don’t you?’

She said nothing as she pushed her face closer to him.

She was inhaling the musk of his pubic curls. Her throat ached from the pressure of his swollen glans. She fought the gag reflex that made her want to wretch his shaft from her mouth.

But, throughout the month that had passed since she first tasted dragon horn, Tavia did not think any sexual encounter had ever been more satisfying.

She kept the seer at the back of her throat and then swallowed. Her throat muscles clenched down on the bulbous end of his length. For him, she thought, the pressure must have been both exquisite and unbearable.