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Blackstone Arena

Chapter 1: Enter The Lion's Den

By XP Author

Vessira of Colvatch walked down the hallway with the stride of a woman who owned the place. To those that didn't know better, one might assume the two guards at the lioness' side were her own. The truth was they were supposed to be her escort through the palace, watching and potentially guarding others FROM her, rather than the other way around. Though the idea of the two men being able to stop her was laughable, as she towered over them. With her rippling muscles barely contained by the fine clothes covering her, one might think she could swing them around like dolls. Which she likely could. Despite her age, she was still the champion of the Blackstone Arena, and had routinely trounced fighters half her age with ease.

Thankfully for all here, she had no desire to stir up trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact. She rather liked where she was in life these days. As the reigning champion for many years, she had money and influence, she could eat fine food and own fine clothing, and she could do what she loved: fight. Even if she was still considered a slave, she was better off than the vast majority of common folk, and even some lesser nobility. It didn't hurt that her owner was the crown prince of Kestra, Prince Sirus. It also didn't hurt that he was madly in love with her.

At first, Vess thought his infatuation was something fleeting. A young, sheltered youth's affection for a woman that reminded him of his mother. Which she could see those comparisons. Like the queen, Devara, she was tall, muscular, and had an air of authority to her that intimidated many. She was even of similar age to the queen, only a few years younger. While some of this may be true, it was not just an infatuation, a fling or passing fancy. He did truly love her, and over the years, she had grown quite fond of him in turn. Even if he was her owner by law, he treated her with respect and affection, and she got to experience his rarely show softer side.

When they arrived at the door, one of the guards knocked. "My lord! We have brought your..." He hesitated, not wanting to say 'slave' with her standing right there. "We have brought Vessira, as requested." She knew many did not approve of Sirus' relationship with a lesser, and a slave no less, including his own mother. But he was still the crown prince.

The door opened to show the man himself. Tall, but still a head shorter than her, and considerably shorter than his mother. He was a black scaled dragon in his mid-20s, toned and powerful, but not overly muscled like a warrior or soldier. Purple hair was held in a tight braid, a gold circlet around his head, set with precious gems. "Very well. You may leave us." The two guards looked at each other, but just shrugged and turned to leave. Once the guards were walking away, he turned to give her a large smile, stepping back from the doorway. "Come in, my love."

She nodded. "Thank you, my lord." She walked inside the stately bedchambers.

As soon as the door had closed behind her, his arms were around her. "I have missed you so, my love."

She smiled, wrapping her own arms about him, forearms resting at the top of where his purple wings attached to his back. "I've missed you, too." Her hand moved under his chin, tilting his head up a little so she could lean down to press her lips to his, kissing him deeply. She felt him pressing into the intimate touch. Enough that she could gently lead the two of them toward his bed. With her lips still to his, the two fell upon the soft mattress, her still atop him. She knew the reason he had summoned her tonight. He did nothing to hide his arousal, only growing more obvious now that she was here with him.

Sirus was more than willing to let her, his slave, take the lead. Her hands moved down to work at the buttons along his shirt, opening each one by one. She pulled the shirt open to reveal the purple scales along his chest and belly. Her fingers ran against those smooth scales, so different than her own short fur. She felt the light tone under them. Despite being far smaller than her own, a dragon's muscles were so much more powerful. If he truly wanted, he could easily overpower her, despite being near a foot shorter and considerably lighter. But he did not.

He did work to lift her shirt, though. They had to finally break the kiss so he could lift it up over her head, only to drop it to the floor. His eyes fixed to her form, the large, firm breasts hovering before his face, the defined muscles of her abs on full display under her short, yellow fur. He reached out to gently trail a finger against those muscles, admiring them once more. "I never tire of seeing this powerful form of yours, my Vess."

She chuckled, rubbing her hips against him a little. "I think you want to do more than just see it." He gave a smirk up at her. "Do you want to tell me what you wish?" Her hand slid down between them to press against the erection trapped within his pants, grabbing it through the fabric. "Or shall I simply take it for myself?"

He gasped, moaning as she squeezed and rubbed his shaft through his pants. "You know what it is that I wish, my love." He gasped again as she squeezed him again.

The lioness let out a chuckle, letting her hand move to the waist of his pants and start to unfasten the belt that held them tight to his belly. It took very little time, as she had grown quite adept at undressing him without looking. Soon, the waist was opened, and with only a slight pull, the seam down the front opened, allowing his throbbing shaft to spring free into the air. Nine inches of purple dragon meat stood proud, throbbing and demanding of attention.

She denied him the attention for now, letting him sit untouched. Instead, she moved to her own waist, pulling the tie that kept her long skirt firm to her. She wiggled her hips a little, her tail aiding in helping the cloth to slip way, and soon gravity did the rest, pulling the cloth down. Her thick, powerful legs were unveiled, as was her lack of anything more clothing hiding under the skirt. Her toned, hard ass hovered in the air, tail slowly swaying just above. Her sex hovered near his, letting him feel the heat pouring from the lips. She never wore anything under her clothes when he summoned her. She knew what he liked, and it was a thrill to her to walk the halls of the palace with herself so nearly exposed. Not that any had not seen all she had. Fights in the arena were only done in the nude, after all.

The two shifted to move fully move upon the bed, the dragon still laying under her, his wings spread wide under himself. Her hips hovered over his, her arousal dripping ever so slightly upon his shaft. With no words, she lowered herself upon him, both letting out loud moans. His shaft had a texture to it like no other she had ever felt. Long enough and thick enough to satisfy her. Her inner walls were hot around him, her powerful muscles squeezing, keeping her tight. As her hips pressed to his, he was deep within. As she started to bounce her hips upon his, his tip rubbed all the right spots to make her moan louder.

He watched, not just the bouncing of her ample breasts, but the tensing of her muscles with every move. He reached up to brush fingers against her chest, only for his hands to be knocked away and pinned to the bed. "No touching. I am in charge here." She growled playfully at him as she kept him pinned down. He playfully struggled back, but he loved when she was aggressive like this. The reversal of power was more than a little appealing for the both of them, him being the one to service her needs. And her needs involved drawing much out of him.

For the first hour, she was satisfied with bouncing herself on him, growing harder and faster as she moaned louder. Her moans grew as she felt the cock within her starting to twitch and pulse and throb. "Stop... stop holding back!" She breathlessly demanded. "Give me that dragon seed!" She practically slammed her hips against him, something that would break a lesser man. He was not one to deny her request. Finally allowed to touch, his hands rested on her hips, his own thrusting upwards to meet hers. He grunted, and with a loud groan, gave her what she wanted.

She let out a loud cry as she felt him pouring his seed into her, pouring into her deepest reaches. It tingled, making her inner walls clench around him. She loved the feeling. If she could, she would willingly let herself be bred by him, to give him his own heirs. Unfortunately, being in her late 40's, her time for baring children was behind her. Unlike dragons, and even many other mammals, the window for motherhood was much shorter for lions, and she was past that by many years. He also knew this, but loved her no less for it, and her love for him grew from this as well.

The next hour was spent in many other positions. Another issue of her age was her stamina was not what it once had been. She was still exceedingly powerful, and leagues beyond what most could claim, but her lover was a dragon. A young dragon at that, and his own stamina was nothing to be mocked. She lost count of how many times he drove her over to the edge, how many times he filled her, yet always had more to give.

Soon, it was Sirus who had taken control. Vess was on her belly, her arms no longer able to keep her up, her legs quivering and shaking against him as he continued to hammer away at her from behind. His seed drooled from both her pussy and her ass, both having been repeatedly filled by the young prince. She loved to be the one in charge, but it was only when he took command did she truly start to lose herself to the pleasure. She lost count of how many times he drove her to the edge, holding her down, gripping at her chest firmly, groping at her, and holding none of his own power back against her.

She cried out yet again as he thrust deep, giving her yet more of his seed, enough that it drooled out around the base of his shaft. His arms were around her middle, his back pressed to hers, keeping her pinned under him. His wings spread wide as he felt her clamping around him tight once again. He felt her body shivering and trembling against his, her muscles quaking from fatigue. He pulled himself back, letting her go as his cock pulled free. She collapsed under him to the bed, panting and shivering, even as the last of his own orgasm splashed against her muscular back to soak into her fur.

He smiled as he looked down at the incredibly powerful woman brought to a trembling, panting, worn out mess from his passion. He shifted to lay beside her, tucking his wings behind himself so he could move close and gently nuzzle against her. She smiled, but did not move. Her muscles ached from the prolonged use, and she knew she would be sore in the morning, the same as with any long training session. She closed her eyes, letting out a soft hum and a deep purr as his fingers started to trail against her body. He loved to touch and feel her form, before and after their love making. He had grown quite good at soothing her when she ached, his touch light and deep at the same time.

After a time, he spoke, the first words since they had started fucking each other hours beforehand. "I hear another tribute has been selected for you to fight."

She nodded slowly, wincing a little as his touch moved to her lower back to work on those muscles, her tail twitching a little. "Yes. Some rat from... Ro... something of Red... Land?" She shrugged, not really caring. "I hear he volunteered as tribute."

"Rovan of Redfield." Sirus continued as his touch moved down to her firm asscheeks. "Apparently something of a hero to his home. He supposedly drove away bandits that had been menacing the caravan route out of the farmland."

She scoffed. "As if chasing away bandits is any accomplishment. Most of them are desperate little shits that barely know what end of a knife is the pointy end."

He hands moved lower, working slowly on her powerful thighs. He could feel the muscles still twitching under his touch, something they only did when she was sore and fatigued like this. "True as that may be, he might still prove a challenge. You know how I worry for you."

The lioness scoffed again. "You worry too much. He has chosen to throw his life away. Even if he is a skilled fighter, a feline is designed to kill rodents. It is the natural order of things."

The prince nodded slowly. "Yet I worry for you still." He moved up, not to continue his massage of her muscles, but to gently touch her face and turn her to look at him. "You know you could retire. You have earned well more victories than you need to claim your freedom. You have gained more honor in the arena than the past dozen champions combined. You need only say the word, and I could deem you a free woman. You could spend your time here, with me, in the palace and-"

His words drifted off as she reached out to gently touch his face. "My dear prince. You should know by now that without the arena, I am nothing. My love for you is great, and I cherish every moment we spend together. But without fighting... I would wither. If I am to die, it will not be an old maid, shamed and hidden behind walls. It will be as a proud warrior on the battlefield." Sirus nodded slowly. He moved to lay beside and against her again. He loved to watch her in the arena, tearing her opponents apart, quite literally in most cases. But he knew that some day, he would have to watch her fall. "Besides, there is no way some rat will beat me. I would die from the humiliation of that alone."

* * *

The room was dark and damp, smelling of sweat and fear. A cold draft wafted through the air, but did nothing to counter the muggy heat that filled the chamber. Outside the great double doors, a crowd clamored and shouted, awaiting the spectacle of the day. He heard none of it. Rovan kept his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even. He stood by the doors, focusing and centering himself. He had a task to fulfill. He had worked hard for many years just to get to this point. What had come before would be nothing compared to the next steps he must take.

His ears perked up as he heard the arena master speak up outside. "Ladies and Gentlemen of Norva! It is time for the main event of the day!" That was his cue. Opening his eyes, he stepped forward, the double doors opening for him. The sun shone down, bright and harsh compared to the darkness of the fighter holding pens. The arena lay before him. A wide ring of dirt and sand surrounded by a thick wall, four meters tall and made of rough, black granite. Six pillars stood equidistant from each other around the pit, where prisoners would be chained and held for public executions, made of the same material. The black stone of the arena's name, mined from some area well outside of Kestra's capital city of Norva. It was all a show of opulence and power.

The rat stepped out into the sunlight, giving the crowd their first real look at him. He was slightly taller than average height, tall for a rat, standing just shy of 6 feet. However, he was not what most would expect from an arena fighter. Brown fur covered not a hulking man of bulging muscles, but a much thinner man. Though he was hardly gaunt, his muscular tone more wiry and taut. As with all fighters to the pit, he was naked and unarmed.

His opponent also stepped out from the other side of the arena. She was much more typical of an arena fighter, a towering figure of muscle, her fur shining yellow as the sun. The crowd cheered for her, as she was the reigning champion, and had been for many years. He knew of her, Vessira, the brutish lioness. Oh, he knew about her. His eyes narrowed as she raised her arms, roaring and playing to the crowd to get them cheering louder. She was his first obstacle. And his first target. He felt his heart racing as he was finally here, though he kept it from his face.

High among the crowd was a small platform. A stout ferret stood at the front of the platform, wearing bright blue clothing. The arena master rose his arms up, the crowd's noise slowly diminishing. "Our tribute fight for today! Our challenger, Rovan of Redfield!" He rose a hand as his name was said, the crowd jeering at him. "Now now! Foolish as it may sound, he has volunteered as tribute for our enjoyment. Such bravery should be commended, as his opponent needs little introduction. Vessira of Colvatch, reigning champion of Blackstone Arena! Chosen warrior of Crown Prince Sirus Valian Behovis Negranta Kestra!" At this, the crowd cheered once more, the lioness playing to it and grandstanding on the other side of the pit.

"These two brave warriors will fight to the death in honor of our lady, the benevolent Queen Devara Kavos Ilania Negranta Kestra" He motioned to the raised throne behind him. Sitting upon it was a behemoth of a woman. Like her son, the queen was a black dragon, with deep purple amid the shining black scales. If one were not told, they would never know the woman was just shy of 50. Standing at 9 feet tall, she made even Vessira look small, and not just in height. The queen was built as powerful as they came. A true warrior queen. In her youth, she had fought in the war, and there was no doubt how she had won many battles, almost singlehandedly securing Kestra's victory against the now decimated kingdom of Dol.

Of course, her iron-fisted rule was hardly a benevolent one, especially to those outside of the capital city. Every few months, towns and cities under her dominion gave tributes, not just in goods, but people. Selected from the population, one would be sent here, to this arena, to fight and be killed in public spectacle, regardless if they were a fighter, or just a simple farmer. Rovan's wife had been one such tribute five years prior. It is what set him on this path. Today, his revenge would start, in the very same arena she was so brutally murdered.

"Fighters, are you ready!?" Rovan raised a fist to signal he was ready. Across the field, Vessira raised both. "Try to make it last longer than a minute." The crowd laughed. "BEGIN!"

Vessira growled low, stepping closer menacingly, a wicked smile on her face. "I do so love tearing you little rodents apart. Think you can survive for a few minutes, little man?"

He took a light stance, his arms remaining limp at his sides. "I'll do better than that. I'm going to be the one to take you down."

She blinked, then just started to laugh. "Well, you're brave. Stupid, but brave." Her muscles tensed, and she lunged at him, claws extended to tear at him. She hit only air as he stepped to the side to avoid the swipe. He ducked under the follow up, then rolled out of the way of her kick. She was powerful, no doubt about it, but those bulging muscles had a fatal weakness. She was slow. But she was skilled, too. As he came out of the roll, he had to duck again barely to avoid a backhand. She growled. "This is a fight, not a dance!"

He smiled at her. "Isn't it? A dance with death, is it not?" He hopped back again as she swiped at him.

She charged at him this time, but he managed to step out of the way. His hand smacked her firm ass as she passed, though he had to quickly leap backwards to avoid another backhand aimed at his head. "Hold still, you little shit!" Part of his training to get to this point was studying this woman's style, to learn her weaknesses. Not only was she slower than him, but she was easy to anger. That could make people sloppy, even veterans.

She started to chase him around the arena, every blow ducked, sidestepped, or avoided, though only barely. The crowd was still cheering, thinking she had him afraid, running for his life. They were only partially correct. He knew full well that one swipe from those claws could tear him open in an instant. One solid hit from her fist could shatter bones. What most of the crowd did not know was that he was the one in control of this fight, leading the woman in circles. He landed no blows on her more than a smack on her ass or a tap to her back, to keep her angry and chasing.

Eventually she did stop following, glaring daggers at him as he bounced on his toes. It wasn't until she panted slightly that she realized what he was doing. "You think you can wear me down? Even if I'm tired, I can still tear a little rodent like you apart. Do you really think you can win this?"

He nodded. "I do. I have a reason other than glory."

She scoffed, circling around with him. "I'll bite. What is it?" She already suspected.

"Do you remember another rat, five years ago? A woman. Alana of Redfield?"

Vess grunted. "Boy, I've killed so many of you little shits. I don't keep track of every bitch I fight." She darted forward, but he stepped to the side, even though she threw no attack. "Let me guess. She was your sister, or wife, or daughter, or side fuck? And now you're out for revenge?" He narrowed his eyes. "You think you're the first asshole that wants revenge for me killing someone? Though I will say, you've lasted longer than most. Good job for that."

He grit his teeth. She was stalling, trying to catch her breath. He had to get her to attack more. But she had picked up on his trick. "Or maybe you're just not as good as you think you are. A lion getting worn down by a rat? Must be humiliating."

She growled. "Oh, you arrogant little prick!" That struck a nerve. She lunged at him again. This time, he ducked under her and actually attacked, landing a series of punches against her stomach. Though he thought better of doing that again as he dashed to the side from her kick. It was like punching a solid wall... "That the best you can do? I've felt stronger hits from children!"

He smirked. "Didn't know you liked to play with children. Then again, you have been the bed warmer for the prince since he was quite young, so maybe that shouldn't surprise me."

Now she was angry. "Fuck you!" He really had to move now. Her rage hit a new peak from that one, and those swings were powerful. She chased him again, and he had to weave, duck, and dash about, and still only barely managed to avoid most of the assault. Though he still ended up with his back against one of the massive pillars, staring down the furious lion. He was panting almost as hard as she was. "Nowhere to run now!" She delivered a powerful punch that would pulverize his skull to mush if it hit him.

A punch right into the stone pillar as he ducked under it. There was a sickening crunch as she slammed her hand full force into the thing, breaking her own fingers in the process. She recoiled, screaming in pain. He took a chance and charged forward to try and tackle her. His shoulder slammed into her belly, just under her breasts. To his own surprise, he managed to get her to move. Not just to stumble backwards, but he managed to knock her off of her feet entirely. He rolled over her as her back hit the dirt.

She panted heavily now, groaning as she cradled her broken hand close to her chest. "Fucking... little piece... of shit!" He could not waste this chance. He leaped into the air, bringing his knee down against her other hand just as she smacked it against the ground. She screamed as he hit the wrist, and he heard the bones within crunch. He was then sent tumbling away, bouncing and skidding across the dirt several feet from the sloppy but powerful blow. Even with her hand broken, slamming her forearm against his side was still not comfortable.

He winced as he got himself back to his feet, coughing a little. He was_pretty_ sure that hadn't broken anything... but he would be feeling it for a few days. Provided he didn't take more hits like that. The woman was panting and gasping from exhaustion, but he was not too much better. He had to end this quickly. Just as the lioness was starting to rise to her feet, he pounced on her from behind, wrapping one arm around her neck and pulling back. He kicked at the back of her knee to keep her on them.

She still struggled, trying to reach up and grab at his arm, to tear into him with her claws. She did manage to still scratch him, but with both hands in their current state, that was the most she could do. She also tried to buck him off, but her muscles ached, burning from overuse. He grabbed his own wrist to pull back hard to lock himself against her, his chest pressed against her toned back. He had also grown quite hard, mostly from the adrenaline, but having her body pressed close was also arousing.

Vess still struggled, trying desperately to throw him off, but he just pulled harder to keep her back arched, making her breasts bounce and jiggle for all to see. His cock rubbed against her shapely ass as he arched her back. He spoke through grit teeth. "You're going to die, cat." She tried to struggle more, her mouth opening to roar, but only a choked sound came out. Deep down, she knew he was right, but she would not go down without struggling to the very end. He rubbed himself against her, feeling her muscles quivering and tensing against him. "In front of all these people. They're going to see you brought down by a rat!"

She tried over and over to throw him off, but the burning in her muscles only grew worse as her lungs demanded air. She could hear her heart beating, thudding wildly in her chest, blood rushing in her ears. She heard none of the crowd anymore, barely heard the rat taunting her, but his words still struck true. She was going to be brought low by a rodent. Humiliated in the middle of the ring she spent so much of her life in, on display for all to see. It may have been the lack of oxygen to her brain, or it may have been her secret love of being dominated, or possibly some fetish for dying in the pit she never knew she had... but somehow this ultimate humiliation at the end of her long career was arousing. Extremely arousing. Especially knowing that her dearest love and master was watching her final moment, even more helpless than she was to stop it.

Rovan could smell it on her, too, rubbing his shaft against her twitching ass even more. "You really are a horny slut, aren't you? Getting so turned on while dying? Showing off to the crowd?" He grunted as he pulled a little harder to keep his arm in place, crushing her throat. "Or maybe it's just because you know your prince is watching? How humiliating it must be, for your lover to watch you die to someone like me." That got her to struggle more, but there was not as much fight left in her anymore. Her tits still bounced and jiggled as she started to shiver, her eyes not seeing any longer, her mouth open in a silent scream. The thought that her master, her lover, her dearest dragon prince was watching her die like this, humiliated and shamed in front of thousands...

She came. And she came hard. Her pussy started to drool and squirt onto the sand, juices running down her toned, twitching legs. Her mind was filled with the overwhelming pleasure, only adding to her complete humiliation, and yet that seemed to make it so much more powerful. Her hands fell away, her body shuddering as her mind started to fade, consumed by the pleasure and lack of air, the darkness quickly taking her. Yet her humiliation was not done. She felt the rat's member against her back suddenly release, spraying his seed against her, soaking into her fur and marking her with his scent.

As if that was not enough, she started to piss herself, her mind losing all control over her body. She felt her still twitching cunt spray as her bladder released, the hot piss splashing onto the dirt, running down her legs to mix with the orgasmic juices still leaking out of her. She was still pissing as she finally faded, the last thing she felt this final humiliation, and the overwhelming pleasure that came with it. That, and thoughts of her lover, wishing she could tell him she fought and killed and died... and came hardest of all just for him. Rovan still clung to her neck, even as he felt her twitches starting to slow, even as his cock still spilled his seed against her.

It wasn't until several minutes later that he finally let her go, once she had finally grown completely limp. As soon as he released his grip, her body fell forward, hitting the dirt with a hard thump. He gasped for air, nearly falling to the side as he got to his feet, his own muscles aching now. His cock still drooled the last of his seed, most of it already soaked into the fur at her back and tail. He looked at her face, her mouth open, tongue hanging lazily out as if licking the ground, her eyes rolled back from the shameful pleasure that had overwhelmed her at the end of her life.

The crowd was silent. No one had ever bested the lioness, and yet he had completely dominated her. And now she lay dead at his feet. The arena master eventually spoke up, though even his voice was hardly believing what he said. "O-our winner... Rovan of Redfield!" The crowd suddenly erupted into cheers. There was no loyalty to a champion amid the bloodthirsty masses. They were only here to watch death, and he provided.

He raised a hand, though the effort was almost too much. The fight had taken much out of him, and his side still hurt. He looked down at the lioness' corpse, the woman who was the instrument of his wife's brutal execution. "Burn in hell, Vessira of cold snatch. Your master is next." He turned to look up, not at the crowd, but at the queen, who looked bored by all this. "And then the top bitch herself." He turned away, making his way back to the pens with the other fighters. He was sure he would get a hero's welcome for taking down the champion. None of them knew she was only the first step in his revenge.

* * *

The guard pushed the door open. "She's been left here, sir."

Sirus nodded as he stepped into the small room. He looked at the body on the floor, a sheet covering it, but doing nothing to really hide who was under it from view. "Thank you. You may leave us."

The guard looked at the other that had escorted the prince, both shrugging. "I'm sorry, 'us' sir?"

"I said leave!" His voice was not raised, but held a hard edge. "And make sure none interrupt me for any reason."

"Y-yes, sir." The guard backed out quickly, giving a salute before closing the door.

Sirus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could smell it, the arousal she had felt upon dying, the slight tinge of her urine, the shame that had filled her as she came in front of everyone. In front of him. She had always said she would die in the arena, and knew the thought aroused her like few others. He knew it would happen some day, but he still dreaded it. Worse, the smell of the rodent's seed still soaked into her fur ruined it.

He got to his knees beside her, pulling the sheet off of her. Her face was still frozen in her final look of orgasmic shame, mouth open, eyes rolled back and bloodshot. Her neck was slightly discolored from where her throat had been so thoroughly crushed. He pulled the sheet down further, revealing her breasts, her muscular belly, and down to her toned legs. A hand tilted her head to face him. His lips met hers, and for the first time, she did not return the kiss. She never could again.

He had been holding it back since the fight ended, but now with her right here, the emotion overwhelmed him. It was not just grief, he had already moved past that. It was the full weight that he would never wake to her beside him, never feel her powerful legs wrapped around his middle, never feel her arms around him, never see her smile or hear her laugh. He found himself holding her body against his, his arms wrapped about her in a tight embrace as he kissed her deeply, feeling her slack tongue against his.

He was not sure what possessed him in that moment. Maybe his grief. Maybe his love for her. Maybe some lingering lust. Maybe just the need that she not be left with the rat's seed the last she would ever feel. But he was soon just as naked, his body laying against her, arms, legs, even wings wrapped around her as he had done many nights in his bed. His hands moved down her body, the once hard muscles feeling unusually soft now.

His hand moved eventually between her legs, feeling her sex. She had died so very aroused, and that wetness lingered still. As if she knew he would be here, a final give to him, ready for him to love her one last time. He would grant that final wish to her. With his arms still around her, he rolled onto his back, dragging her to lay atop him. She had always loved to start their nights on top of him. Though she could no longer pin him down, he let her lay against him, her breasts pressed to his chest, her head against his shoulder.

With a grip on her once-firm ass, he brought her hips down, the tip of his rigid cock poking at those soft lips. He brought her down, sliding deep into her tunnel. It was so different, slack and cool around him, but not unpleasant. It was still her that he slid into, until his hips met hers. He used his grip to make her bounce upon him, her ass slapping against him with a loud smack every time. He may never hear her moan again, but he held none of his own back. Perhaps in the next world, she could hear him, see him loving her one last time. He knew she would have liked that. The ultimate submission to him. She would have cum so hard if she could.

He held none of himself back. He bounced her hard, thrusting his hips up against her to strike deep. He would not spend hours teasing her this time. He grunted and moan, feeling the pleasure rising. He let it, and soon let out a loud groan as he plunged within her slack pussy, giving her a heavy load of his seed. He leaned his face against her crushed throat, burying his nose under her chin to breath in her scent as he dumped his balls deep into her dead womb.

One was not enough. It was never enough. Barely finishing the last, he laid her on her belly, he pulled her ass into the air and thrust deep again. He had to hold her up, holding her by her thighs to keep her legs against and around him, using them to pull her back and thrust ever deeper. Her body jerked and shifted against the ground, arms wobbling, head rocking a little as he tugged her back again and again. Seeing her so limp, a lifeless doll, it both broke his heart and aroused him more than he had ever thought it would. It was not long before he was giving her a second load. Then a third. A fifth. And more.

He did not keep track of how many he gave, but he gave as much as he could. More than most of their nights of passion. She leaked his seed from every hole. He had even given her a hefty fill in her mouth, something she rarely let him do. He was sure to splash much onto her fur, the scent of his potent dragon seed masking the rat's. Not just on her back, but her face, belly, and chest. He would mark her as his forevermore. He was only satisfied if she was laid to rest reeking of his lust and love for her. She would want that, too, he knew.

He had no idea how long he was in that little room, making passionate love to his beloved's corpse. Hours, probably. By the end, her fur was matted. Yet he still held her, not caring how much he got onto his scales. He held her against him, the last time he ever could. Her head rested on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest, her leg over his lap. He stroked fingers through her mane, caressing her head gently. "I will make sure that... rat... pays for this." He kissed the top of her head. "I swear this to you, my love. I will see to it that he dies in the arena, as shamed and humiliated as he made you. Even if I must do it myself. He will pay dearly for taking you from me."

Little did the prince know, but this response was exactly what Rovan wanted for the next step of his plan.

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