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A man staggering in with a large lizardfolk in a bridal carry was one of the more unusual occurrences he had witnessed in his establishment, and the innkeeper gawped in mute confusion. The lizard's discomfort with the situation was poorly hidden by a white, lacy wedding veil and crown of flowers that clashed with crude hide clothing.

"What's the matter?" Junria hissed. "Haven't you ever seen a bride before?"

"I–I'm sorry, sir..." the innkeeper stammered. "I mean, uh... is it ma'am?"

Junria grumbled. "What do you think?"

"I–I really can't... I don't..."

"My room, sir," Frederick spoke up. "I sent a messenger boy earlier?"

"Oh, right! Yes!" The innkeeper managed to compose himself. "The other two guests were quite angry that I was asking them to vacate, but when I explained the situation and that you were willing to pay for their new accommodation they were more than happy to do so. Um... so this is...?"

"The present Mrs. Frederick the Grave," the paladin confirmed with pride. Junria held up her left hand to display the blue ribbon looped around her third finger and woven down the back of her hand to wrap the wrist. The ribbon had been used to bind their hands together during the ceremony, and afterward was put on her as a visual signifier that she was his woman. As she understood it, the ribbon would later be replaced with a piece of jewelry.

"Your message didn't say she was going to be a, uh... well..."

"Is there a problem?"

For a moment it appeared it might indeed be a problem, but the innkeeper sighed. "No, not at all, sir." He grabbed keys off a hook and started up the stairs. "Follow me."

As the innkeeper led the way Junria griped: "Is this really necessary, Freddie?"

"It's –huff– tradition."

"It's embarrassing!" She had resisted at first, but relented and allowed him to pick her up for the "carry across the threshold". It was an absurd part of the ritual. After all, she's larger and stronger so it should be her carrying him, but it was strictly the male's duty to carry the female regardless of any size difference. And the "threshold" wasn't just a doorway. No, of course not. It encompassed everything from the front door of the inn all the way to Frederick's room. Everybody who was still awake was going to see her carried in a way she hadn't since she was a helpless hatchling. According to Frederick, it's bad luck if the bride should happen to stumble on her way to the consummation. To alleviate that risk, at no point were her feet to be allowed to touch the floor before they reached his room. Her tail, however, could not be helped and was a constant danger to his balance. Junria wondered how bad the luck was if the groom tripped and fell on his bride. Annoyance aside, she couldn't help but be impressed that a human was able to carry her at all, let alone up a staircase. It was pleasing to her that he was strong.

"Everything else about being married better not be like this."

"I'm afraid it is." Frederick paused on the landing to catch his breath. "As the husband –huff– it's my duty to humiliate you at every opportunity. As the wife it's your duty to complain about it."

"That's stupid."

He chuckled. "You're a natural at this."

A curly-haired halfling brushed by coming down the stairs, giving the couple a curious, amused glance. "What are you staring at, bite-size?" Junria snapped, and the halfling hurried on without looking back.

Frederick could be making this tradition up just to amuse himself. She wasn't sure when he was jesting and when he wasn't, but as far as jokes go, carrying your large wife would be a substandard one. Since Frederick took the customs seriously, she suspected it was earnest. He even sought permission for her hand. He explained he would normally need to receive such from her father. Setting aside the fact that her tribe was 100 leagues away and would kill her on sight, she did not know which member was her father. Frederick opted instead to get permission from the commander as a surrogate, who was irritated by the request and perplexed to discover Junria's sex, but relented with a "do as you will". The commander declined to stand as a witness, due in no small part to the fact that he was entertaining a strumpet, so Frederick was forced to hire a professional witness who was almost too drunk to stand at all.

"You smell wonderful, by the way," Frederick told her.

"I smell like a flower and my mouth tastes like mint." Having the flavor of spoiled ale out of her mouth was something she was grateful for. Less so for the heavy perfume that irritated her sensitive nostrils. After much searching they had found a small temple that was willing to perform a rush ceremony if palms were sufficiently greased. Before the wedding the priestess had performed a sacramental bath to "purify the body" in water that was heavily scented with lilacs. Junria enjoyed a swim as often as she was able, but actual bathing was not something she did frequently, certainly not with the vigor that the priestess had scrubbed her. She had a suspicion such fervor was to make double sure the bride really was female since the priestess had expressed reservations about blessing same-sex couples.

"Do you really like it?"

"Of course. It enhances your –huff– aura."

Her heart again decided to ignore her wishes and she shivered. Perhaps she could bathe more often if it was something he appreciated. "You smell good too," she said, which was not a facetious reply to his compliment. Frederick had the enticing aroma of a male in rut despite attempting to mask such desires under a civilized demeanor. Not the same scent as a lizard, but still an unmistakable musk. It came off him like a cloud of steam and demanded that she respond to it. The cool dampness in her loincloth indicated her body was eager to do so.

The innkeeper unlocked a door which already had a sign on it that the occupants should not be disturbed. "Here we go," he said as he stepped aside to allow Frederick to angle through the doorway awkwardly. "Shall I latch it from the outside for you, sir?"

"Absolutely."

"He's locking us in?"

"Another tradition," Frederick assured her. "He'll open it in the morning."

"Good wishes to each of you," the innkeeper commended, expressing it in a way that was more sympathetic than congratulatory. He removed the interior key and shut them in, followed by a click from the outside as the iron bolt slid in place.

As typical for a village inn where comfort and privacy were not prioritized and guests were often triple or even quadrupled up, the room was small. A single window that wasn't large enough for Junria to stick her head out was the only available circulation. Provisions had been made for them by removing excess beds and bringing in rickety chairs and a table. The room was lit by candles, three in the two sconces on the wall and one on the table. The soft lighting was too dim to be of much use yet too bright for her eyes to transition to dark vision. On top of the table was a gallon cask and a basket with some hastily arranged offerings of bread, meat and fruit. Given the lack of preparation the innkeeper had been allowed, it was a thoughtful gesture. Leaning in the corner stood Frederick's great sword with helmet on top, his armor organized with it.

"Do you still need to carry me?" Junria asked.

"No, but I'm enjoying this. I didn't expect you could blush."

"Ugh!" She squirmed out of his grasp. For a human Frederick was imposing, but Junria stood a full head over him. "I don't blush! My face just gets greener when I'm irritated."

"My mistake," Frederick admitted with a smile.

Junria put her hand on the white bridal veil. "Do I still have to wear this?"

Frederick unfastened the belt clasped around his waist and loosened the ties of his boots. "You don't have to wear anything now."

"Good." The dab of resin on each side that had been used to affix it to her scalp did not prevent her from tearing it away. The veil and broken crown of flowers fell to the floor. She sat down heavily on the bed, sinking into the overly-cozy straw mattress. "I'm just glad they didn't make me wear the gown after the ceremony."

"I was sad you took it off. You looked beautiful in it," he said as he kicked his boots off and pulled the crimson surcoat over his head before hanging it on a hook beside the door.

She picked at the residue of glue on her scales, hoping the hue of her face wasn't deepening any more. "I'm not used to them. It was too long and tripping me up."

Frederick pulled at the ties running down the breast of his gambeson. "I thought you wore it with grace."

She sighed. "Stop that, Freddie."

"Stop what?"

"I looked ridiculous. Don't pretend I didn't."

Frederick dropped the gambeson to the floor and approached her. He stood between her knees and pulled the kerchief from his white blouse.

"Ria, you are my bride," he told her as he wiped the resin from her scales. "The only one I shall ever have. Please allow me the indulgence of doting." He placed his hands on the sides of her jaw and leaned in to kiss her.

She froze and her eyes widened in surprise. She could smell his heat as his lips touched her below the nostrils, putting himself very close to her teeth. This was the second such act of affection she had received from him, the first kiss having symbolically completed the ceremony of marriage. It was a gesture she couldn't return. Her mouth structure didn't have much range of motion besides opening and closing. Subtle nuances that soft-skins used their lips to formulate were done with the muscles in the back of a lizard's throat.

Frederick pulled back. "Do you hate that?"

"It's not terrible. I was just..." Lizards have a strong instinct to bite anything that approaches their mouth, and it was a conscious effort not to do so. "That's not something we do."

He ran his hands over her face, tracing the deep scar that marred one side, an injury that had almost taken the eye. If he was put off by the blemish he didn't show it. "How would you typically express fondness?"

"Touching. Licking. And... of course mating."

Frederick unfastened her hide cape, opening the front. "We can do all of that," he assured as he ran his hands down the sides of her neck and over her shoulders, brushing off the heavy, armored garment, leaving her revealed and topless like a serving wench.

Junria had expected she would have to make the first moves as the experienced one, only to find Frederick was as confident in the bedroom as he was anywhere else. Perhaps those raunchy books had educated him on bedroom manner. The situation flustered her. For reasons she couldn't understand she was suddenly tense and wary—almost timid. He wasn't even being forceful, just assertive. Assertive is good, right? That's what a strong male should be. So why was she having this reaction? A tight, clenched sensation of a heartbeat pounded inside her pelvis and she nervously swept her tail back and forth on the bed, mussing the sheets. She glanced around and spied the cask on the table. She had been much more comfortable around him when she was intoxicated.

"I need a drink," she announced as she stood up, brushing past Frederick. Why was she feeling like this? This is just mating, she's done it before. What's so different now? Was it him? That strange spell he has over her that makes her mind silly and sets a quivering in her belly? Junria picked up two apples from the basket and swallowed them whole, then pulled the cork out of the cask with her teeth. Not even bothering with one of the provided cups, she tipped it back to drank directly from it. It was unexpectedly strong and sweet, and she nearly choked on it in surprise.

"What is this?" she asked with a cough, then stiffened as Frederick's hands touched her back. Her dorsal scales were hard, armored ridges that ran from the top of her head all the way down to the tip of her tail. They offered great protection but did not have much tactile sensation. However, she could clearly feel his heat through them.

"Honeymoon mead," Frederick said as he slid his hands under her arms and embraced her from behind. "Don't drink too much or you won't remember anything in the morning." His hands ran down her belly; when they reached her belt, he unfastened the latch. She reflexively tried to grab the belt, but caught his hand instead as her fur loincloth dropped to her feet. Junria set the cask down and turned to him. She sucked in a gasp through her nose, realizing that while her back was to him, he had removed his pants and opened the front of his blouse, which hung loosely from his shoulders. He was as exposed as she was, and her legs felt suddenly weak. She leaned on the table for support.

She had never seen a human male that was aroused, and she expected that somehow they used their genitalia in the limp state she had always observed before. That it could change into something more imposing had never occurred to her; after all, a lizard's penis was always firm, even when hidden away inside. They just pop it out when they need to use it. Human males are different, it seems. That makes some sense since they can't hide it inside for protection, so it must need to decrease its size to compensate. The hefty member jutting out proudly from between Frederick's thighs was glorious. Significantly darker than the pale, white penis that lizards had. Not as thick at the tip as a lizard, but thick enough, and longer than any she had before. Maintaining a similar girth throughout its length. There was a dense tuft of fur at the base, and below his testicles hung loosely. Another thing that lizards keep tucked inside but humans have exposed, something she's aware can be a detriment if they get struck there. Frederick noticed her gaze and put a hand on his cock, gently sliding the skin so she could witness the bloom of his pink glans as the foreskin was pulled back.

"Is it to your liking?" he asked.

Her tongue unconsciously ran across her lips. "It's... different." She realized she was still holding his hand. "And you're different than I expected for a virgin."

Frederick appeared confused. "I never said I was a virgin."

"But... your vow?"

"I had a life before I took my vows; I was celibate, not inexperienced," Frederick said, then frowned with realization. "I apologize. It wasn't my intention to mislead you."

Junria shook her head. "It's better that way, actually... still."

"Something troubles you?"

"I don't know. Something feels wrong." She squinted her eyes in thought. "This isn't my tradition, so I don't—" And then it struck her. She knew exactly what was wrong.

Frederick read the awareness in her body language. "Tell me what you need, and I will provide it."

Her eyes twinkled, and she could hardly contain her excitement. "I've been following your traditions, but it would be fair if you followed mine too, right?"

"Of course, but I didn't expect your kind had any wedding traditions."

"We don't," Junria affirmed. "I thought it didn't matter because fucking and mating are something you can just do when you want to, but this is more important, isn't it? This is blood. This is breeding."

Frederick nodded. "That is close enough to be truth."

"By our customs, I can't surrender to you just because we said some words in a church. We are more... physical than that. When the breeding times come, the men have to prove they are strong enough to sire the eggs. They must earn the right by tooth and claw."

"There's not many other men here for me to prove myself against."

"That's not what I mean. Our women only allow breeding by one that is stronger than they are."

Frederick considered that. "I have to overpower you?"

"With only the armor and weapons that you were born with," she confirmed, then a sickening disquiet of regret crept in her gut and squelched her enthusiasm. Why did she bring up their traditions when it will just result in disappointment? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! As a paladin, her husband was skilled and powerful, but he's still only human. He needs his steel and his magic. He couldn't possibly defeat a lizard in a skin against skin conflict. Certainly not one as strong as her. Her size, weight, and strength advantage is too great for him to overcome. Even lizardfolk men may die if they challenge a mate that is beyond them and she could easily injure a human without even trying. Besides that, it's foolish to expect him to consider such a request from one who is marked as chikossh. Nobody would risk death for such a thing, and they shouldn't be expected to. She should have been content with his customs and let well enough alone, but she hoped if anyone might treat her with such dignity, he would. She could sense the green of her face was aglow again, embarrassed by her selfishness. She always has been and remains a "wet hole only for pleasure" and nothing will change that.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't hav—"

Junria's back slammed onto the table, which collapsed under her weight before she hit the floor with a crash of splintered wood. The contents of the food basket scattered and the mead cask bounced across the floor. The candlestick left a trail of wax as it rolled in a semicircle before coming to a rest, and a wisp of smoke danced from its snuffed wick. Frederick had stepped in and hooked one of her legs behind the knee, shoving her off balance before dropping her. A cheeky, underhanded move she might have expected from another lizard but never from him. Before she could comprehend what was happening he was on top, clutching her wrists and holding her down. Her instinct was to bite his face, but he jammed a knee in her chest and her teeth snapped empty air.

"I assert my right to father your offspring," Frederick announced.

Junria briefly wavered in astonishment. A lizard would have refused outright, but Frederick didn't hesitate. Are there no half measures with this man? No, of course not. He's a silly, righteous, beautiful, foolish paladin. Traditions must be honored, even those that aren't his own. Junria hissed a gleeful approval of his challenge. If he manages to survive the next few minutes she's going to breed his brains out.

But he's going to have to survive first.

His position might have been enough to control a human woman, but it wasn't suitable against her. Frederick was so concerned with avoiding her teeth that he wasn't considering her feet, and she hooked her long toes on him, kicking him off. He slammed into the bed's footboard, which split with a loud, dry crack. Fortunately her claws had been badly worn from marching or else they would have opened him like a roast pig. Even so, she had torn his shirt into tatters.

If he was going to grace her with a breeding challenge, the dignified response was to test him to the best of her abilities. With a powerful lash of her tail Junria was back on her feet and sprang at him, her teeth flashing. He was up as well, but not quickly enough to avoid the charging lizard as she barreled into him, biting down on something that crunched. Frederick fell back with a foot planted in her stomach, using her momentum to kick her up and over. She crashed into the wall before falling onto the bed, snapping the frame in half. Behind the headboard the shattered wall rained fragments of soot-yellowed daub. In the corner of the room, Frederick's sword and armor teetered before falling to the floor with a clatter of steel.

Junria ripped off the tangled sheets and spit out the broken table leg that Frederick had blocked her bite with. Straw, pillows, and bedding were scattered as she stumbled from the demolished bed. That had been an obvious frontal attack on her part, but she couldn't help herself. The hot smell of him was intoxicating, like testosterone being boiled and concentrated. It was filling the poorly-ventilated room, and her body reveled in the wanton musk. Her mind was unwilling to formulate thoughts beyond base desires of fight and breed. Her limbs trembled, her throat was dry, and her pelvis throbbed in desperate anticipation of a harsh intrusion. There was a sodden, trickling sensation in her groin and she was in danger of orgasm just from the thrill of combat. When the object of her affection leapt on her back and put her in a choke-hold it almost caused her to climax. Of course, that didn't stop her from repeatedly slamming him into the wall as hard as she could.

After the third time she threw herself backwards into a wall, Junria realized she could be aiming better. She twisted her head, which permitted Frederick to deepen the stranglehold but also allowed her to see behind. Ah, ha! That should do it! Frederick perceived the danger and abandoned the choke, dropping off her when she angled for the iron candle sconce bolted to the wall. She tripped over him, and he rolled away, putting distance between them—as much distance as could be allowed in the bedroom's confines. Junria was up and in a low, hunkered, defensive stance, her claws at the ready and mouth open. A thin trickle of blood started to form where she had smacked the side of her head on the sconce, an injury she didn't even register. Frederick squared off against her like a boxer. There was blood dripping from one of his forearms where her claws had raked him during the choke, and his skin sparkled with sweat, but his breathing was steady and focused. Junria couldn't prevent her eyes from glancing down at his erect member that bobbed with his heartbeat, ready to claim her.

An urgent knock on the door startled them. "What the hell are you two doing in there?" a voice on the other side shouted.

"Go away!" Junria roared.

Frederick stripped off what remained of his shirt. "Just a little lover's quarrel."

"Lover's quarrel my ass! It sounds like a war in there!" There was a rattle of keys in the lock.

The lizard snarled. "Open that door and I'll tear out your guts and feast on them!"

The rattling stopped.

Frederick wrapped the shirt around his injured arm. "I assure you I'll pay for the damages."

"You're damn right you will! If you don't keep it down I will get the magistrate!"

Junria knew full well that was a toothless threat since the magistrate had passed out in The Loving Lantern hours ago. "Fuck off and leave us alone!"

"Just give us another minute," Frederick bid as he snugged the makeshift bandage in place. He smirked at his wife. "I'm almost done."

Junria dropped on all fours like a cornered beast and a warbling cackle rolled deep in her chest. The cocky paladin better be almost done! The perfume of hot blood mixed with musk was driving her into a frenzy and her heart was beating harder than it ever had before. She found it impossible to focus and not completely give in to her animalistic instincts. Her tail stood high and swayed in anticipation, and her legs shuddered madly. She was drooling heavily in excitement, and not just from her mouth. One way or another he's getting inside her, even if she has to eat him.

She pounced at him again. Frederick easily dodged her claws, but forgot she possessed an extra limb with additional reach. As she rebounded off the wall like a cat, her heavy tail whipped around and slapped him across the room. He crashed into what remained of the destroyed bed, and she pressed her attack, intending to keep him on the defensive. Frederick regained his footing with an elegant kip-up, snatching a bed sheet in the same motion and bringing it up to blind her like a matador with a bull. There! That movement just before the sheet came up! Even in her incensed state she recognized a feint when she saw one. He wanted her to attack right so instead she struck left, expecting to catch flesh as her talons tore into the sheet.

She caught nothing behind the cloth. A double feint! The overextended attack threw off her balance, and when her right wrist was seized, the weight spun her. She was roughly forced against the wall with her arm twisted around, and the blinding sheet jerked tight against her face from behind. She kicked off the wall to bowl over him, but he hip-tossed her face-down onto the floor and followed up by pinning her with one arm behind her back. He sat on the base of her tail with his legs locked around her waist to secure his position, and twisted the sheet around her wrist like a crude rope to bind the arm. Junria snapped her mouth and swung her tail, but couldn't bend far enough to reach him. With her free hand she tore the sheet from her face just before Frederick grappled that arm too. She dug her claws into the floorboard to prevent him from pulling both arms behind her back, but the claws carved long curled shavings of wood in the futile attempt. He was much stronger than she had anticipated. Stronger than any human she had ever faced before. Was he only pretending to struggle when he carried her or was he simply this determined to have her?

In short order Frederick had both hands tied behind Junria, who squirmed and hissed, too rabid to admit defeat. She cocked her head, fixing one wild yellow eye on her husband. Her jaw was open and threatening, strands of saliva trailed from her mouth and her breath heaving like a bellows. Her tail slammed and her feet kicked. If she could get to her knees, she might be able to throw him off. Frederick twisted the other sheet between his hands and snatched it into her maw like the bit of a horse's bridle. She chomped down on it and thrashed her head, but her teeth were better suited for holding and crushing, not rending and cutting, so she was unable to bite through. Frederick took the bridle in one hand and her tail under his other arm, arcing her back and wrangling her into a mating position. Junria continued to struggle until he ran his palm under her tail. Her legs clenched shut when fingers came in contact with her sopping vent. The tip of a finger found her clit and she spit an unbecoming, bawdy yowl that would have embarrassed an ovulating kobold. A gush of lizard juice arced out as aggression fled her body, leaving her wheezing and conquered. Frederick's slickened finger withdrew, and her hip raised in a greedy attempt to find it again.

"Good enough, Ria?" he panted.

Junria nodded shakily, dazed by what had just occurred. Despite his delicate skin, useless teeth, and lack of claws, Frederick had proven his seed and earned his right to her. He released her tail and rested wearily on her back. His body heat was like a sunning rock and baked through her thick hide. Sweat dripped off him like warm raindrops, and his breath was like a summer breeze. His scent was so strong her mind forgot that any other odor existed. The world smelled of nothing but blood and randy male. Junria's insides writhed with drunk, hungry desire as Frederick softly stroked the top of her head.

"I was hoping you would go easier on me," he said as he pulled the gag from her mouth.

"I cou– couldn't disrespect you with a weak test," she professed breathlessly. Frederick started tugging at her binds, but her struggles had tightened the knots, and they gave him difficulty. Her eyes squeezed shut, and an impatient zealous groan escaped her.

"Don't untie me, Freddie! I'm yours! Take me!"

"Traditions aside, I'm not about to rape you on our wedding night," Frederick avowed as he finally managed to loosen the bind.

When Junria's hands were free, she exploded, twisting to elbow him in the side of the head and knocking him to the floor. Before he could recuperate from the surprise attack, she had rolled on top and straddled him, sitting on his stomach while clasping his neck with one clawed hand. Her grinning teeth hovered over his face, lightly parted and ready to strike. In her throat a low, fluttering growl rumbled. Their impassioned breath mingled; his hot and her cold twisting together in the air to be breathed in by both. She had him helpless. Despite all his strength and skill, she could end him with a quick squeeze if she desired. During their foreplay, they managed to snuff all the candles—mercifully without burning down the inn—save one that leaned precariously on a wall sconce. It was dim enough for her eyes to shift to dark vision, and she took a moment to scrutinize him, turning his head to examine his features closely. His face was bruised with a welt swelling under one eye, a bloody, fattened lip, and a few minor cuts. He was battered, but no worse for the wear. He will heal and still be a handsome male human. A drop of blood from her scalp fell on his face and ran down the cheek. There was doubt glistening in his deep umber eyes; that maybe he had exposed too much of his belly and wouldn't live to regret it. The peek under his veneer of confidence was gratifying.

"I can't make that same promise," Junria declared before her blue tongue dragged across his lips. The prickliness of his mustache and the abrasion of his beard stubble was strange. Not terrible, but certainly new. She licked up over the welt and down the side of his head, leaving behind a gleaming trail of saliva. Starting at his chin, she did the same to the other side of his face with a long, slow, deliberate stroke, savoring the deliciously briny spice of his sweat mixed with blood. Her tail swayed and caused her hips to roll, grinding her cloaca against his hot belly, warming the throbbing clitoris and intensifying her need.

"Are we going to have to fight every time we do this?" Frederick asked as he reached to caress her face.

Junria nuzzled his hand. "Only if you want to," she said before licking the palm and twisting her tongue between the digits.

His fingers traced her snout, and she closed her eyes to let him explore her face and mouth. Everything about him was odd for a mate. Soft, yet strong. Hot, yet calm. Delicious, yet uneatable. Any other lover would have bent her over as soon as they were alone, finished, and rolled over to sleep without concern for her end of the experience. In truth, she was already more than satisfied with him, and the breeding, good or bad, would just be a bonus. Frederick's hands groped her chest and she flinched, her underbelly sensitive to how foreign his touch was. His fingers traced down to her stomach, following the contours of her muscles. Does she feel strange to him? No breasts, no nipples, no belly button... just the scales and crusty scars of an old warrior. If he was disappointed with her body, he gave no signs of it. His hands grasped under her rump to lift her. His fingers squeezing the firm flesh and parting the vent of her cloaca in the process. It was time. Junria had never done it with anyone in a belly-to-belly position unless forced to. She preferred to have her armored spine between her and a lover—to be able to swat them off with her tail if they became overenthusiastic or violent—but Frederick had a right to any position he desired. Gossamer strands stubbornly remained connected to him from her groin as he eased her toward his erect, pink-tipped penis. She reached between her legs and grasped him gently to guide it. It was somehow hotter than any other part of his body. She held her breath as it came in contact with her, and Frederick pressed her hips down as his came up shoving the scalding rod in.

A startled chirrup escaped her. She expected it would be strange, but she didn't expect it would hurt! Frederick touched a thin trickle of dark fluid that had gushed across his stomach.

"I didn't know your kind had those," he said, rubbing his thumb across his bloody fingertips.

Junria's eyes were squinted, her breathing short and fast. "We... I—I don't! Not since I was twelve!"

"Sometimes divine healing will mend that on a woman," he explained.

No wonder she had been feeling so bound up and tight inside! It hadn't just been her ardent response to his prowess, but the changes to her physical body that had caused her such turmoil. She had a naive, juvenile pussy again, desperate for a dick to fill it but terrified that one would.

"I should have warned you."

Junria shook her head. "No, it's... it's good. This is good." It was a delightful surprise, but still a surprise. "J–j–just don't move yet." She pressed her hands onto his chest and straightened herself up, trying to get into a tolerable position. His cock felt positively huge! She blurted a hoarse grunt as her trembling caused him to sink deeper inside. The sensation of his burning, pulsing dick forcing her vagina to conform to it—branding her interior like a hot iron—was intense. The sting of the freshly re-broken hymen was drowned out by the contraction of every cell in her pelvis that gleefully clamped down on the intrusion. His tuft of coarse genital fur tickled her clitoris, lending yet another layer of novelty to the experience. There was a spasm in her vagina and she whimpered as a slow crawl of pre-orgasm danced from her face all the way down through her tail. Junria's eyes fluttered and rolled back. She leaned forward and collapsed onto him, snuggling her head against his face.

"It's... it's too much. I–I can't make myself... I need you to..."

"Would you like me to take charge?"

"P–please," she begged.

Without disconnecting, Frederick rolled her over to be on top. Junria's tail hooked up between his thighs, and she latched her legs around him greedily, clasping her toes together so he couldn't possibly get away before finishing.

Junria seethed in a gasp. "G-give me one m-minute before yo—ooaaha!"

Even the patience of a paladin has its limits, and Frederick was quite done with waiting. It was time to get down to business. Junria clutched her husband, pressing his face into her chest as he thrust. She could hardly complain since he had earned this several times over, and there was no way another minute would have prepared her. His cock was nothing like she imagined. It filled her belly exactly as she needed to be filled, making the climax she had been edging toward spill over almost immediately. She squealed as her thighs crushed down on him so tightly that a lesser man would have been smashed like a walnut in a vise. It didn't even slow his hips down. In fact, he was encouraged by the reaction and the release of additional lizard lubricant. Junria threw back her head, her tongue lolling out insipidly as his pelvis repeatedly slapped her groin with abandon, accompanied by sloppy, watery squelches. Her dorsal scales scraped on the wooden floor with each thrust.

In short order, he found her shoulders were pressed firmly against the wall, and her husband crowded into her face. That's what a human experiencing pleasure looks like? It would have made her laugh if another welling orgasm didn't insist upon her attention. She grabbed his head and licked his silly face before clenching her jaw as the sensation rolled through her. Frederick grunted, and the heat inside her exploded as he spilled his seed. She squeezed her eyes shut and her back arched, legs wide, her feet and tail pressed down on the floor, pushing firmly against his hips as her body accepted the offering. She was unaware of the soft, otherworldly glow emanating from her chest, where the dual-headed serpent of Arura appeared briefly before fading as the consecration of their union was complete.

Her body collapsed and she gasped in huge lungfuls of air. "That was... that was..."

Her eyes widened with shock as she realized that Frederick wasn't done yet. They weren't done yet. She clutched her enthusiastic husband frantically as his incredible strength pulled her into his lap. With a roar of effort, he was on his feet and slammed her into the wall, her back shattering the plaster in a spiderweb pattern. Junria snatched an overhead support beam, her mouth agape as he entered her again. She squirmed and whimpered as he continued, her ankles crossing behind his back and locking in place. Oh, he lied to her. He lied. He said he couldn't fuck! This sure feels like getting fucked!

It had never been like this before. Not even the first time she had been thrown to the tender mercies of the tribe's young males after their failed breeding challenges did she feel so completely and utterly overwhelmed. Frederick was more than a gaggle of pathetic teens desperate for any wet hole to ease bruised skin and battered egos. More male, more skill, more power... but that can't be the only thing that was happening. She had mated powerful males before. Trozk of the Southern Tribe was one such who had taken advantage of her chikossh status multiple times, and she often found herself thinking of him in nostalgia. That grizzled warrior could have easily bested her in a breeding challenge if he so desired, but she would never again think of Trozk as anything other than inferior. Was it because Frederick was a human or because breeding is just so much better than anything she had done before? Is this what the shaman had taken away from her all those years ago? She would have killed him sooner if she had known.

Gods! He's going to kill me! His dick is going to kill me, and I'm going to die cumming! She released the overhead beam, opting instead to hang onto Frederick. She hooked her jaw behind his head and dug claws into him. Thin trickles of blood slowly rolled down his back, but his hips never stopped. Between his legs, her tail swayed, casting strings of seminal fluid mixed with thin traces of hymen blood that flowed from her. She was climaxing so frequently that she scarcely could tell when one started and the next began. When Frederick had asked how she displayed affection, she had left one thing out. Something her kind did that others find disagreeable. She felt an overwhelming desire to do just that.

"Freddie... I need... to bite."

"Do as you must."

The lizard's teeth sunk into his shoulder, and Frederick grunted, but scarcely paused what he was doing. Junria's eyes rolled at the sensation of hot blood in her mouth mixed with hot cum in her pussy. A fluttering growl rumbled in her chest. They were as one as two people could become, both inside of each other and mixing their fluids. She closed her eyes, content that everything was as it should be.

In the center of the demolished room, Junria lay at her husband's side in a hasty nest that had been gathered of what remained of the bedding. Her head was tucked under his chin and her arm across his chest. One of her legs hooked around one of his, and she kept herself tight to his body. While they were making love, her body heat had matched his, and she was unwilling to allow herself to cool. Frederick had a bandage on his shoulder and had one arm around his wife. His other hand tickled Junria's nose, who playfully nipped and licked at his fingers in return.

"So the blue of your mouth, is that common for your tribe?" Frederick asked.

"We're not born with it," Junria told him. "It's a dye made from a root. It's injected into our tongues as hatchlings. That's why we're often called the Azure Maw tribe."

"Hmm, I thought it was an ancestral trait."

"Naw, we just can't tattoo our skin because it sheds, so we dye our mouth." Junria turned her head, fixing one serious eye on him. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything," Frederick replied.

Junria hesitated. Softies often find the practices of her people barbaric and take no effort to try and understand, but so far Frederick had been open-minded. "Is it okay if I eat your heart?"

Frederick furrowed his brow. "Right now?"

"No, no! After you die! That is, if you die before me. I know your people bury the body to rot in the ground, but we find it disrespectful to throw away someone we care about. It's a punishment for my kind to be buried after death. There's no better way to keep someone close to ourselves, to our tribe, than to eat them. That way, they're with us forever. The heart is the most important part and goes to whoever is closest."

"And you'd like me to be with you forever?"

"I would."

"Well, my heart is yours in life. I wouldn't mind staying with you after death."

She paused. "If I die, will you eat mine?"

"Can I cook it first?"

She hissed softly. "I'd prefer raw."

"Very well. We are a tribe of two, and raw it is."

Junria purred in satisfaction. She lightly rand her claws down his body to his groin, relishing the twitch of his belly when she trailed over an erogenous spot. She loved to explore his wonderful, young, strong body.

"How old are you anyway?"

"Fifty-two."

Junria had a shocked moment of silence before she propped herself up on an elbow and narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't lie to me, you are not older than I am!"

"You are my wife and the Temple of my Lady, so I am literally incapable of lying to you. Fifty-two is how many years I have lived."

"But you look so young," Junria reasoned. "Humans have gray hair and wrinkles when they get that old, and you can't be part elf; your ears look human."

Frederick held up his hand and turned it, examining it. "Not so long ago I was a much different man. I was indeed gray and wrinkled. When I took the vow to become the champion of my Lady, I was given this gift. A new body that surpassed my old."

She thought for a moment. "As the Temple, do I get a new body too?"

"Why? Your body is perfect already."

"Not perfect," she muttered.

Frederick traced his finger over the top of her nose. "There is one small thing that my Lady considered inappropriate upon Her Temple..." Junria crossed her eyes to follow his finger, and realized something was missing.

Her chikossh brand was gone.