Chapter 42- Lust Haze

Rhiannan barely got the words out before Elisha growled and scooped her into his arms. "I want those dragon dicks, Daddy," she'd whispered in his ear, and now he was carrying her like something fragile and precious, though the heat in his gaze said he had no plans to be gentle.

Their cottage behind the waterfall was filled with the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, casting amber light across the silken bedding. Elisha laid her down slowly, reverently, like she was made of moonlight. Her bump peeked proudly between them, a reminder of the divine future they were building together.

He stripped her with slow hands, but his eyes burned. His mouth found her nipples first, swollen and achingly sensitive from the pregnancy. He sucked one deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue while rolling the other between his fingers, pinching just enough to make her gasp and arch into him.

"Elisha," she moaned, voice breaking into a needy whimper. "Please."

He smiled against her skin, but he didn't tease long. Kissing his way down the curve of her belly, he spoke soft words to their unborn children, then dipped between her thighs. The first swipe of his tongue over her dripping folds made her buck, and when he nipped her clit gently and slipped two thick fingers into her slick heat, she cried out.

He curled them expertly, finding that spot that made her legs quake and her voice shatter.

"Fuck... you're going to kill me."

"Never," he rumbled, eyes glowing gold. "I'm going to make you feel alive."

When she came, it was with a scream and a gush that soaked his face, but Elisha didn't stop. He kissed his way back up, mouth shiny with her arousal, his body coiled like a predator barely holding himself back.

He positioned her on her knees, supporting her belly with pillows and cupping her hips. With one hand braced on her lower back, he lined himself up behind her at both holes.

Both thick, hard shafts.

Rhiannan gasped as she felt them sliding between her soaked folds, teasing her, rubbing against her aching entrance and puckered hole.

"You sure?" he asked, voice hoarse, chest heaving.

"Yes," she panted. "I want all of you. I can take it."

With a deep groan, he began to push in, slowly, steadily, filling both her tight holes at once. Her body stretched to accommodate him, her hands gripping the bedding, her voice breaking into breathless curses and cries.

"Yes, Daddy, fuck... just like that... don't stop."

Elisha moved with powerful, precise thrusts, careful of her bump but brutal with his rhythm. One hand gripped her hip while the other wrapped around to toy with her swollen clit. Rhiannan was moaning nonstop now, her mind blank with pleasure as both shafts rubbed every nerve ending raw and sweet.

He bit her neck when she clenched around him, growling like a beast.

"Mine," he snarled. "My queen. My goddess. My mate."

The bond between them pulsed bright and hot, locking tighter with every thrust.

She shattered again with a scream, squirting around him, body shaking.

Elisha came seconds later with a roar, burying himself deep inside, spilling everything he had into her with one last primal thrust.

They collapsed forward, tangled, shaking, breathless.

Minutes later, Elisha lifted her gently and carried her to the warm bath. She was half asleep, body glowing, heart full.

When the others entered, they froze.

Kaleb sniffed. "Oh come on." He whined pitifully. Arwen grinned, "She deserved that."

Liam fanned the air dramatically. "This room smells like dragon sex and regret."

Azarion grumbled. "I was going to bring her pickles."

But Rhiannan just mumbled, "Y'all talk too much," and promptly passed out in Elisha's arms.

They finished washing her, dried her, tucked her in, and stood watch.

Their queen had earned her rest.

In the barracks later that night...

Thorne lay flat on his back, panting like a man who'd just barely survived a war, because in a way, he had.

Lerenya was curled on one side of him, soft and radiant, her skin glistening with sweat and the glow of a freshly sealed mate bond. Her breathing was slow, deep, steady. On the other side, Masaila sprawled out like a jungle cat, feral no longer, eyes closed in blissful exhaustion.

The bond had done more than tether them together, it had anchored them. Thorne no longer felt like he was slipping away into madness. The gnawing ache of hunger, the edge of violence that always buzzed under his skin, was quiet now.

Gone.

He had them.

Lerenya's fingers slowly found his, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand. Masaila murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and draped her leg possessively over his thighs.

Thorne exhaled, eyes fluttering shut. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he wasn't just sane.

He was whole.

And he would never be alone again.