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***This is the second half of a two-part story***

Description: Trapped in the secluded parts of the Spine Mountains under strict orders from her stern rider, Saphira becomes bored with her condition. Worse, a mysterious affliction that pushes her to imagine herself taken by other dragons keep her dreaming, wanting...thirsting for the affection of another dragon, or at the very least, someone like her. A being of the wilds.

Opportunity reveals itself when a pack of hunters try to trap a majestic wolf, spurring her into action. Eragon always insisted she should never spill the blood of men, but when men prove themselves to be worse than any beast that walks the land, what can a lonely, pent-up dragon do, if not follow their instincts?

Story written by me, Siranor

***Saphira's First Heat: Lust***

They arrived inside a verdant meadow, surrounded by mounds dug with purpose. They looked too well dug out to be natural. Dens. Nurseries for pups that no longer grew within them.

Seeing the longing in his eyes, Saphira settled down and welcomed the wolf under her wing. Dragon or not, she felt deeply for his loss...and feared just as intensely for her own should she ever couple with the dragon of her dreams, or just...any dragon that still existed in this huge, lonely world.

With thoughts of her long-deceased kin flying through her mind and the touch of the wolf's warm tongue prodding at her recovering wounds, Saphira easily fell asleep with his protective presence cuddled against her. Here, entangled with the body of another hunter of the forest, she felt safe...

Perhaps safe enough to give herself to the realm of dreams for a moment or two.

For the following days, the two hunters took more of a passive role in their affairs, but not before they disposed of the bodies of the deceased. Saphira showed him how to erase his marks completely, first by stripping the humans of their coverings, then by scattering their belongings over areas far removed from their own. That way, scouts would never know the real cause of their deaths.

It was an exhausting task. Risky. For even short flights sent her into the same spiral of worries Eragon instilled within her from a much too fragile age, and, as much as she wanted to be angry at him, Saphira focused on what she had now. Or rather, who she had.

A protector. An ally. Perhaps...even a friend. For a few days after the retribution bestowed upon the party of hunters, they lingered in the relative safety of the wolf's home, never venturing too far into the unknown. At night each took turns watching for any of the king's trackers.

None came.

On the cusp of the fifth or so morning, Saphira awoke to the indigo sky of the early morning, warm and fulfilled from the living creature she sheltered under her wing. He might not have been the dragon that still haunted her wettest dreams, but the blessing of awakening to another scent apart from her own satisfied her in a deeper way than momentary pleasure ever could. She hardly expected her life to take such an interesting turn. She, a young dragoness stricken by the pains of her first reproductive cycle, nestling down with a wolf. A wolf, of all things! For all intents and purposes, he might have very well been part of the unfairly large group of creatures humans referred to as beasts. Non sentient creatures they either hunted, enslaved, or butchered according to their needs.

Yet to her, he seemed more than that. More than even a man. For even in spite of his simple way of life, he behaved in ways so noble even most men could have troubles imitating.

Once he roused from his slumbers, he provided her with a fresh stag he caught while she dozed off to thoughts of her future. He offered her the best portions, as he often did once he assumed the role of a provider, but today a pestering itch on the back of her horned head prevented her from accepting his offering. Nosing the bounty of nutritious organs in his direction, she made it clear with a gentle, yet sharp enough hiss that she was not a human damsel, to be spoiled and pampered as if her claws were too blunt to earn her own prey.

He accepted without much of a retort.

With the stag quickly reduced to a pile of fur and inedible remains, they started mutually grooming each other off the darkened blood that stuck to their snouts. Saphira enjoyed the feeling of his tongue upon her lips greatly. So much so she began slacking in her duties. With a relaxed huff, she splayed herself on her back once her task was done to allow his sniffing snout greater access to the rest of her body. Sniffing his way like a bloodhound along her neck, the wolf quickly found remnants of blood on the forelegs she held the carcass in place with....but once he licked her claws clean, he found another treat to savor. One more juicy than any meal he savored up to this point. With his breath cascading down her nethers in form of rapid sniffs, Saphira picked her head up. She shared a long look with him, then laid her head back down on the ground, the spreading of her legs as obvious as the growl of longing that escaped her rumbling neck.

This time, she wanted not just a friend, but a male. A mate that could soothe her innermost desires.

The wolf's cold, oozing nose extracted a flinch from her haunches once it touched her seeping vent. He drew back, but only for a moment, for right after the chill came heat. Delightful amounts of heat that dragged their way across the entire expanse of her lips like a blanket of hot, humid flesh.

"Mrraffff..." a gruff whimper left her jaws just before they sealed shut. His tongue felt so, SO good...and he wasn't even getting started yet. With only the tip of his tongue, he tasted her tentatively, prodding inside her tunnel briefly to test her reaction. He looked intently upon her quivering legs, alert for anything that might unleash the warrior within.

Such a silly creature.

Snapping at him, Saphira pointed her snout in the direction of her need, and when he licked again with the same wavering stance, she grabbed onto his neck and forced his muzzle nose deep within her quivering flesh.

The wolf finally got her message. With untamed lust and unrestricted access to her flooded depths, he started to assault her cavern like a wild beast, effectively seeking to drink up every squirt of honey produced by her rapidly kneading muscles.

"Mraaaaahhhh!" Saphira's next growl was more of a moan, weak and unsteady like her shuddering body. It was...too much. So good. Even looking upon his splattering jaws filled her with satisfaction beyond measure, for nobody wanted her to such extent. Not in such primal ways.

Drunk on her fertile scents, the wolf started grazing at her flesh, not hard enough to hurt, but to stimulate her contractions into producing more of the irresistible honey that enthralled his senses.

Writhing in a mess of growls and whines, Saphira clawed and grabbed at the air for purchase like the undignified whores from her rider's tales. No. She wasn't...one of those whiny types. She was a warrior.

She was a...victim of her irrevocable desire to receive the hot, throbbing extent of a male's affections.

As he buried more than half of his muzzle within her, Saphira slapped the ground with her tail in vain attempt to stifle the weakness that started to spread across her body in the form of hot, uncontrollable shudders. Yet the more she tried to fall back on her willpower, the better she realized that just like her wolf, she was irrevocably losing her senses to the dazzling bliss that coalesced into the raging depths of her heat-stricken pussy.

Whining with wild need, the wolf kept on pushing and pushing her buttons, burying his muzzle increasingly deeper, until his tongue tickled at depths no dragon tongue could reach...least of all her own.

Tensing up like a spring, Saphira's last thoughts were of her dragon burying himself slit deep within her...just as the tide of completion washed over her. She didn't just squirt, as she did in her dreams. No...

She exploded, splattering the wolf's clattering muzzle with gushes so ferocious they bathed him all the way up to his chest.

Once her wits returned to her, Saphira felt most improper to see the wolf curl around himself to tongue his own red need in secret.

She got up on unsteady legs to nose at his own engorged problem. He too was leaking, just like her...only his flesh had a much tighter feel to it...and a much more appeasing smell.

Kissing his squirting tip a few times with her own tongue, Saphira drank in his essence...and the more she drank, the more she wanted to explore the rest of his beautiful maleness.

It was the wolf's turn to splay for her now, beady eyes staring at her with curiosity and want for her touch. His off-white fangs gleamed in the sun as he splattered more of his translucent essence onto her tongue, but he didn't really whine until the mysterious bulge further up his shaft became a target of the curious female's attentions. Saphira nosed into it a few times. It felt so hard, compared to his other, softer fruits. Could he have another pair hidden past the veil of his furred cock-shelter?

Before she had the chance to uncover the mystery herself, the wolf pressed his own pads down upon his bulge. A shudder crept up his body. Then, just like she did moments before, he squirted a strong line of liquid heat straight into his own face.

Mesmerized by how a simple touch could have such interesting repercussions, Saphira licked his oozing shaft a few more times, then allowed the rest of his length to slip past her fangs in a way that made it all too easy to entrap the wolf fully within the engulfing heat of her jaws, his bulge locking perfectly behind her large, imposing fangs. Closing her eyes, Saphira suckled him like a kitten would feast on the milk of her mother, tenderly...needily. For the taste of a male in the prime of his life was like honey to her heat-stricken senses.

The sounds he made...that sweet, yowling howl, reached her senses as quickly as the scraping of his blunt, desperate claws. She didn't know in the moment why he all but attacked her to regain his freedom.

But once he rolled up on his fours with a raised tail and a purposeful gait in his steps, she finally understood his intentions.

He wished to be followed...even if his dangling cock painted a clear path to whatever place he led her to. By that time, both of their erotic needs dwindled down. He regained his dignified composure -as proven by the many trees he marked on his way there with a surprisingly flaccid shaft- while she kept on wandering what all this fuss was about until the shadows of the forest gave way to a sunny meadow.

It was not just a meadow, as she came to discover. Once she emerged on the edge of a cliff overlooking the wolf's home valley, with the warm winds of late morning flowing past her scales, Saphira took a deep breath from the fresh, cold air, and settled on her haunches, utterly mesmerized by the beauty of the mountains, the whisper of the river flowing down below...

The playful intentions of the wolf that kept circling her, nipping at various parts of her body until a bite on the tip of her tail forced her out of her serene reverie.

She twisted about to punish him, but by the time her body had time to adjust to the sudden shift in her balance, he was already upon her, a storm of fur, licks, and playful whines that stole her breath away as much as the vista of his home.

She found it impossibly hard to resist the pull of his playful allure. Joining him in a game that mixed in everything a dragon loved -running about, fighting, and chasing- Saphira felt more alive than ever. She realized in that moment of exhilarating freedom how much she needed to have someone of equal stature test her mettle. Her Eragon, for all his good intentions, toppled even from a gentle push of her snout once she grew past his height. He was no dragon to handle the raking of her claws upon his fragile human body...yet neither was the wolf. Still, his ragged physique alone allowed him to compete with her exigent demands far better than any human. Eager to test her abilities to their fullest potential, the wolf tackled her repeatedly, even bit her a handful of times. For a man, that would mean instant death. But to her...the attacks launched by his natural weapons hardly inconvenienced her naturally armored hide.

"Mrrah!" With a clever twist of her body, Saphira shoved the wolf on his side, then quickly clambered over him, the scraping of his claws against her belly doing little to deter her dominance. His growls and snaps dimmed into a tamer growl, and finally, thinned into a sweet, calming sea of whines as her curious, blue snout nuzzled through his luxurious fur. She passed over his flicking ears briefly, realizing how much he disliked the puffs of her breath entering unreasonably ticklish crevasses, then turned upon his jaw, which she treated to soft, affectionate rubs for a short, peaceful moment. She paused briefly to look into his eyes. Those warm, wild eyes that radiated the same joy she felt for having another likeminded soul to share such affection with.

Moving down his neck, Saphira treated him to yet another one of her tricks, nibbling into his fur with teeth that merely days ago dripped with the blood of his captors. She could be rough when she wanted, but now, she was as gentle as any mother, leaving only a soft trail of saliva and exhilarated whines in her wake. What she wanted...what she needed right now was something greater than proving herself the superior hunter. Something better than dominance.

Something...she could only express through action rather than growls.

As she advanced down his chest, her eyes drank in the sight of his gender. That plump, furred organ so atypical to what she learned so far about her kin and that of men mesmerized her with its cleverly concealed appearance. In the sea of dark fur that was his belly, the shape of his maleness could hardly be distinguished were it not for the pink opening of his sheath and the moistened tip of the member that stared right back at her, pointy like a soft arrow head, covered in a mesmerizing sheen of natural lubrication that collected on the very edge of his tip in the form of a cloudy drop of fertile pre-seed.

As she invariably inhaled his masculine musk deep into her greedy nostrils, Saphira imagined herself drift along his lower belly far enough to taste him...but she wouldn't stop at just a mere lick. No! She would advance further until she felt every last bit of his flesh drift along her wrapping tongue, and then...she would wait. Wait for him to harden. Wait for him to grow...

Wait for the unbearably filling taste of his life-giving seed to erupt into the deep reaches of her engulfing maw...for only in this way could she truly sample his mettle and judge him worthy of fatherhood.

A thick drop of translucent arousal trickled down from her kneading lips onto his sheath. His whine lost to her ears, she was too tightly wrapped in her heated fantasy to realize what she was doing. Saphira lowered herself further and further towards him, until there was but a claw's width between her slit-shaped vent and his own furred sheath. With a long growl of utter longing, in a manner that was anything but gentle, she mashed her nethers down upon his furred shaft, the widening lips of her cunt all too eager to welcome something beneath their wet embrace.

Shuddering from every joint in her body, Saphira snarled with bliss at the semi rough feeling of his fur rub against her sensitive flesh. She kept him there, wrapped in a blanket of tight, tingling flesh and racing desires, tasting him all too briefly until his might paws dislodged her from the object of her truest desires.

She may have wanted his seed, but he made it clear he was not going to part with it so easily. The two clashed in another short lived combat that saw their positions reversed. She was now splayed submissively on her back, with his fierce, elegant paws on each side of her sinuous neck. He could've had her in so many ways...if he but wanted to.

But rather than figure out what kept him from giving himself to his bestial instincts, Saphira made her own desires known by sneaking a hindleg right where he least expected it. Now he was the one to shudder and growl and whine, his dominating presence reduced to a contorted face ravaged by instinctual bliss as his knot was tightly entrapped between her nimble toes, cock tip raining down splatters of fertile smelling pre-seed upon her wet, shining scales.

She looked at him, desire burning in her eyes.

Once he dipped his head to let her know no retribution would come from her rash actions, Saphira treated him to a tighter fit, maneuvering her toes around his bulge until something made the wolf thrust hard into the grip of her paw as if a key suddenly fit in an invisible lock.

She had him right where she wanted to. Licking her maw with lust, she curled her toes even tighter against his knot and savored the wracking might of his rapid thrusts as he tested the grip of her toes with mighty pounding of his hips. Again and again he throbbed, each time harder than the last, until, about a dozen or so thrusts later, his very essence gushed out of him in thick, repeated spurts that painted her aquamarine belly with ivory stripes. He didn't howl or cry out his climax. No. He just whimpered and thrust, emptying his balls on her with undignified sounds hardly fit for such a majestic creature.

Most of the seed hit her scales...but some...some tickled her where she wanted him most. Trapped right there, deep within her-

"Mrrr..." Saphira tensed up against an irresistible wave of flame that rose up from within. The smell of fresh seed, the sight of it...that was too much for her heat-stricken instincts to endure.

Thrusting her own tail up, she unleashed the wolf's erect member from the grip of her paw, letting it bob about in the bare air as her toes curled into the pads of her feet and her tail smashed its length on the ground. Debris rose from the forest floor like the fire of her nethers, sharp and sudden and strong, ascending up her tunnel like a rush of bliss until she splattered herself with three short arcs of heat-water as clear as the bounty of any mountain river, not cold, but hot and pungent, filled with the reek of her heat.

Growling her bliss, trashing about the grassy ground, Saphira pushed out as much heat essence as she could from the spasming walls of her vent. She barely descended from her moment of complete fulfillment when she felt his touch upon her nethers. No. Not his member.

His tongue, brushing over the sea of sludge that were their two life essences mixing together. She tried to get up. To help him. But a single growl from him was enough to let her know she did enough...for now.

After he finished his duties, the wolf lured her into a proper fighting game. He seemed very eager to teach her how to stand her ground against his kin properly, yet her heart and mind remained fixated upon that fugitive moment when their beings mingled as one. To hold him inside her once more in his proper, aroused state...it was a desire stronger than any other. Stronger than fighting. Stronger than eating, drinking, or winning.

Worn out by the many times she found herself trapped under his skillful paws, the wolf nuzzled at her wing joints. She was confused for a moment as to what he wanted until he walked on the edge of the cliff, ears flicking in the wind, nostrils aflame with the scents it brought.

Once it filled her spreading wings, Saphira realized what he wanted her to be. Herself. A creature of the skies. A dragon. Not a mere beast of the forest whose mental resilience broke under her own selfish desires.

Never look too deeply upon the freedom of the high skies. Eragon's voice returned in her mind. They will tempt you, chipping away at all I've taught you until you forget the meaning of safety, for it is up there where the greatest danger awaits you.

I am no dragon, but the past taught me much, my dear Saphira. Once you taste true freedom, the yearning to return to it will return over and over again, and you will wish to linger, more and more...until you're either spotted, or caught. Dangerous is a world where men will sell you to the king's trappers for either gold or glory. Beware the deceitful embrace of the skies...beware...beware...

Filled with doubt, Saphira looked back upon her furred friend. Perhaps Eragon was right. Maybe a wolf, even one who tasted the worst men had to offer, could not effectively assess the danger her rider spoke of. After all, there was a reason why she was the only one left in the world.

Saphira prepared to step back. She would have, were it not for the wolf's weight pressing back against her. Propped with his forepaws against her back as if he sought to couple with her, the wolf pushed her towards the rift of destiny. He was here for her. He! Not Eragon.

And right now...that was good enough.

Wings stretched, Saphira threw herself into the unknown. She fell...until the winds filled her wings and took her in their gentle embrace. She glided above the valley below filled with awe at the splendor of freedom. Where were the doubts? The danger? What were they to the sun's caring warmth cascading upon her scales, or the wind brushing along her outstretched wings?

Up here, she was no earth dweller burdened with worries. She was a dragon. A daughter of the skies!

Growling with bliss, Saphira flew along the length of the twisting river, turning along with it, until her instincts pushed her to ascend. Further and further she flew towards the distant clouds, her mighty wings taking her in a realm where the whispers of the wind was all she could hear, the world, a mosaic of colors stretching below her claw tips.

She knew then what it meant to truly be a dragon. To be free. Unshackled by the responsibilities of her rider or any laws decreed by men. In this realm, she felt...at home. A home she yearned to share with the red of her dreams. She imagined him flying alongside her, rejoicing in the same newfound freedom until he descended back to the earth.

Saphira followed him. He seemed to lead her towards the same cliff she leaped from.

Right to the wolf that awaited her.

Landing right on top of him in a loving display of licks and affection, Saphira bestowed him with all the gratefulness she could offer and some, as she lured him to mount her just like he did before, this time, more intimately. He licked his lips hesitantly at the sight of her kneading lips. Her scents were strong...too strong to resist. From the moment she felt his tongue upon her nethers, Saphira knew there was a single way this would end.

With his seed spurting deep inside her heated womb.

She pushed her vent into his muzzle to get him drunk on her scent. Then...she waited.

Waited for his forelegs to lock around her haunches.

Waited for his aroused cock to kiss her swollen lips.

Waited for that first jab of his hips to meld them together just like she tried before.

But the bliss of sheltering him whole within her came short of her expectations, for he was still a wolf, too eager and rough in his approach. In his mad dash to fill her up with his offspring, his scrapping claws matched the frenzy of his thirsty thrusts, rough and unchiseled as the forest he lived in.

Closing her eyes, Saphira pictured her red again. His flowing licks across her neck. His ridged penis scratching away her itch in such perfect ways. The rough, loving bite that would come when the first spurts of his seed erupted within her...

Roughness, the wolf had plenty, yet even if she desired to be claimed with such wanton desire, Saphira could never ascend to the peak of her pleasure no matter how much she wanted to. His penis not only lacked the ridges of her ideal mate, but the only thing that could make up for his smooth, untextured girth was the bulge. That big, bulbous knot of flesh that eluded the grasp of her muscles only to slip out and ram her over and over again like a storm battering the branches of too gentle a tree. He wanted it within her, just like the wolf too desired.

Yet they could never complete the connection, no matter how much each of them yearned to. She was too loose, and he, too eager.

Ripping herself away from him, Saphira disappeared into the darkened corners of the forest, where she cried herself to sleep to the ethereal presence of her ideal dragon. All too familiar loneliness crept back, along with that cold, darkened thought which haunted her ever since she hatched from her egg surrounded by straw and wood, with no parents or siblings in sight. Why was she alone?

What good was it to survive in a world where every member of your species had been slain by the kin of the man that raised you?

The sun started to bleed in the sky by the time she rose up from her little nest of misery. Passing between the several carcasses strewn about by her fluffy friend in an attempt to regain her affections, Saphira followed her way back to the empty cliff. She stared at the setting sun with a pang of guilt in her heart. He tried so hard...first with meat, then with love, then...by leaving her be...just like she wanted.

Perhaps it was for the best. Maybe a creature of the skies was not meant to mingle with the dwellers of the forest. Yet as she sat on the lonely cliff by herself, waiting and watching the sun give way to moon and stars, Saphira realized how much she despised the lonely way of life her Eragon wished for her.

Like a wolf, she needed a pack where she belonged.

She needed...him!

It wasn't particularly difficult to track his heady scent down to his dens. The real challenge came in the form of the courting rituals he initiated shortly after they were reunited. Leading her on the bank of a moonlit lake with fireflies buzzing peacefully all around, the wolf initiated a fight that relied more on grace rather than strength. Like the ripples of the lake caressed by night's breeze, he prowled around her silent as the night, waiting for her to make her move. With her wings tucked to her body, Saphira joined in, always keeping her distance, mirroring his mesmerizing movements with even greater finesse thanks to her captivating tail. Once he deemed her fit to continue, the wolf led her on a chase around the lake that ended with another vigorous dance where the aim was to nip the other's tail with as soft of a touch as possible. She hardly understood why a dragon like her had to put up with such curious customs, yet throughout the entire ritual, she fed on the very feeling she missed even when her rider was around. That elusive gratification that she belonged with someone that understood her.

After the dance, the wolf skulked into the shadows of the night, making it clear he wished not to be followed. When he returned a moment later, Saphira knew why. In his maw he brought the most resplendent jewel she laid eyes upon; a smoothened sapphire stone as blue as her eyes, plucked from the hands of the humans no doubt. Could it be a gift? Or an offering with a veiled purpose beyond her understanding? That of persevering against the slavery of mankind?

Swift as the wind, Saphira flew back to unearth some of the armaments of the hunters. Under the vigilant eyes of her wolf, she placed them evenly inside each den as means to balance the lives they took...a gesture deeply appreciated by the wolf. He touched his head to hers, and with the silent song of the night to bear witness to their bond, the two solidified their tie; a friendship that started with vengeance and opened the way forward to something more, as the wolf eagerly hinted at by brushing against her flanks with his nose and nudging the base of her tail with his fluffy head.

Saphira's heart swelled with joy, a happiness as hot as her tingling nethers burned for the touch of his love. Yet she was not the instinct ruled female from before. This time, she invited him to clamber on top of her by settling comfortably on her back, with her wings spread as wide as her legs, offering him a perfect view of her dripping depths. He only sampled her tastes briefly, for he preferred to keep his passions for the more meaningful tie that followed. Belly pressed against hers, forelegs wrapped tightly around the base of her sinuous neck, the wolf whined his great pleasure in her ears as his entire girth was swollen by the milking grip of her hungry vent. Grabbing him tight with her own forepaws, Saphira shadowed him under the veil of her large, beautiful wings and began thrusting gently against his swelling knot, making sure he lodged himself as deep as he possibly could. He throbbed as healthily as he licked her, fierce yet smooth, his increasing girth lashing her with sizzling bliss that tested the limits of her endurance.

She tried to avoid giving in before he did...To feel the caressing flow of his seed slither within her empty egg chamber. But it was hard...so hard...and so good at the same time. For once he swelled to full mast both began to stifle the fiery needs of their bodies with loving affection. They shared kisses, licks, caressed each other with paws and teeth alike. Saphira never thought she could feel so fulfilled with a wolf inside her. The way his bulge stretched apart her hungry muscles filled her with a serene sense of completion, of love for the being that shared so much of himself with her. Many times her claws ran gently through his luxurious fur while she shared licks with him, delighting in the sounds of utter pleasure he made whenever he wasn't huffing for another precious breath of cold, crispy air. His peak was coming. She could feel it in the tremors of his body. Hear it in his breath. Smell it in the squelching mess of fluids that oozed out of their union.

Yet the knowledge of his impending release only made hers all the greater, for as soon as she felt his member bloat with the touch of finality inside her, she all but lost the fight with her carnal desires. Spreading her wings far to the sides, grasping him tighter than ever in her clawed embrace, Saphira roared. She roared louder than her Eragon ever advised. Stronger than even she thought possible. Until now she only had fantasies to fill the barren void of her womb with. Ethereal desires spun by a needy mind...for what female could endure the sting of loneliness at the peak of her first heat? Her disregard for Eragon's rules. Her burning sense of vengeance against the hunters. The drive to impress this lonely wolf...

It all led her here, to this moment. Where his tongue splattered her snout in between whimpers and huffs. Claws scratching along the narrow passages formed by her scales. And his shaft, throbbing deep inside her, spurting lances of its most precious of seed that slithered deep, deep within her, filling her lonely void with heat and love and life.

Holding him in her vicious embrace, Saphira milked him for all he had. Squeezing him tight. Loving him hard, like she would a dragon. Though she ran the risk of harming him, in the frenzy of instincts that filled her orgasm-ridden mind, she cared not for such petty risk. All she wished was to hold him. To feel him cum. To make sure he will never, ever pull away from her until he was done...

And even when he did, entwined with her like two perfect mates, she denied every attempts he had at cleaning any part of her, even the thin amounts of saliva that trickled down her jaws. She wanted him for a while longer. To feel, to love, to drain down to the last drop of precious seed, for every dragon had a hoard of something special. Hers was this wolf. He belonged with her this night. With her, and no one else.

***The End***

*Fluffderg is on the lookout for a commission that will help pay April's bills! if you are looking for a special deal on a long story that features this same dragon, go here! https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/10180959 Free art with your character and one of mine included in the package! *

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