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This is a story commission I've done for TastyWyrm

Description: This story features an intricate dance of seduction that sassy Khrynia weaves around the stoic and morose Doravar. The daring dragoness employs her wits, charm, and irresistible allure to emotionally and sexually manipulate Doravar out of his shell of self-imposed solitude.

Doravar(c) belongs to me

Khrynia(C) belongs to https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tastywyrm/

Art done by: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/sipuha/

***A Wild Entanglement chapter 1***

The light of below never seemed to reach the top of the watchtower, no matter how many pairs of torches dozens of feet below ambled back and forth. The routes were always the same; only the speed of the bearers differed, a dreary monotony that Doravar seldom paid attention to these days.

Coiled upon the barely comfortable space, the red dragon did not exist to the citizens of Southshire unless they had specific need of him. The arrangement came at their behest, as irony would have it, along with additional compensation to ensure that Doravar remained as reclusive as they had agreed.

They initially feared him. After a while, they began to question his motives. Nowadays, they seemed content to keep him far removed from their dealings, akin to a dog chained outside of the master's house.

And for what?

Mere comforts, paid for in the blood of whoever--or whatever--those with a measure of authority ordered him to deal with. The sport kept his claws sharp, his teeth polished, his frustrations subdued. Then there were the benefits of having your own barn, stuffed with whatever Doravar desired from the surprisingly lofty selections Southshire rushed to procure for their scaled guardian and mercenary. The more amenities, the more impressed his present company, the better the storytellers.

It would be a few hours still until other sharp-eyed humans relieved him of his duty.

For now, his flaming eyes, older and deeper than the town in which he situated himself, took in the faltering buzz of the day's last flurry of human activity. The sun had long since drained away, tucked behind distant mountains, leaving behind an absorbing darkness. Townsfolk chattered on the way to their havens, basking in the safety of flickering lanterns and torches that splashed their darkened and distorted silhouettes onto the beaten cobblestones.

Most of the ones left behind--the patrolmen--remained close to their illuminated stations, their unwillingness of the looming darkness beyond their posts palpable.

Silly creatures. There was nothing that could pose a threat to them for miles, and if one such challenge appeared, all Doravar had to do was roar to cause it to scurry away.

Besides that, Southshire counted among the most boring towns he offered to defend, the people's paranoia with the increasing dragon activity fueled by falsehoods and deceit from those who wished to profit from it.

Him included, to a degree.

Doravar's distant gaze held within a sea of disinterest tinted with a bitter note of resentment as he monitored his charges. An eternity of uncomfortable nights, spread across dozens of similar settlements, had been dedicated to safeguarding these short-lived beings, their gratitude often lost in the routine of daily life. The women who took care of his home brought some color to this otherwise grey existence. Their tales were as engrossing as their varied accents, and though equally bitter at the prospect of entertaining a dragon, most of them began to relish their new job.

Those occasional distractions helped chisel away at his thick apathy little by little, yet they could never make up for the ceaseless display of human folly Doravar had witnessed across a hundred and fifty-five years. The wounds they inflicted upon their own kind, the scars they carved into their territories, the relentless wars they waged against each other--they all echoed their disregard for peaceful preservation.

The town, a polished relic expanded in the wake of the most recent war, was a surprisingly planned out fortress. The stone walls were an imposing sight, wrapping the town in its protective embrace chipped and carved in places with the weight of its last big battles. The moat, a constant companion to the rising towers, flowed around the town's periphery, an added barrier against the outside world. Wooden and stone edifices clustered within the defensive perimeter, their roofs sporting thatches of wheat and straw. Streets coiled around these structures, a network of narrow lanes that connected the fortified corners.

Respectable preparations, yet still not enough to safeguard them from the most terrifying threat of them all.

The town's defense, a patchwork of human invention, were ultimately as vulnerable as the humans themselves. The dragon had many a time been the town's lone bulwark against flying threats that could snatch the sentries posted atop the ramparts and toss them to their doom. The longer he kept at it, the lesser those attacks grew, their infrequent attempts at plunder inept. This loss of challenge, a void in his nightly vigil, had only added to the restlessness broiling within him.

The echo of soft footfalls bouncing off the streets below broke the monotonous silence. Doravar swung his head around, iridescent crimson scales catching the soft lantern glow of the fresh arrival. His gaze fell upon the youthful figure of Thomas, a recently matured boy tasked with the late hours of the watch. The boy's presence was a mere formality; a ritual from a time when danger had been an everyday occurrence.

"All quiet, sir," Thomas managed to stammer out, his voice a timid whisper against the night's silence. "No sign of trouble, within and past the walls."

Sir. A repulsive term that Doravar begrudgingly tolerated.

With an incline of his massive head, Doravar acknowledged the report. His mind hardly registered the full scope of the words; they were echoes of thousands of similar declarations, every night indistinguishable from the last.

"I umm...is there anything more I can..."

Thomas had this irritating habit of lingering more than he should, his awestruck gaze revering the dragon towering before him. Fear had once been etched in those trembling eyes, now replaced by obnoxious admiration. The closeness of the boy's unabashed gaze sent an irritating itch under Doravar's scales. He had no need for company. Not now, not ever.

"I suppose...I should go now?"

"You should."

But he didn't.

"But before I leave, I was wondering if you could....if it is possible to..."

The gaze of a sole disinterested eye not enough to deter the boy, Doravar's full head shifted to regard him, causing Thomas to flinch before the great protector.

"What is it you wish to know, Thomas?" The inquiry was laced with an underlying growl of impatience, his annoyance cloaked beneath the thin veneer of courtesy.

The lad's eyes flickered with hesitation, a spark of courage fanning the flames of his youthful curiosity. Thomas braced himself, his voice wavering slightly under the weight of the dragon's full attention. "I've always wondered, sir," he began, "what lies beyond our lands. Since you can fly, you must have seen the rest of it, yes? The Crystaldale mountains, the harsh deserts of Habrazhun, the expansive marshes of--"

"I have seen most of those, yes," Doravar's response was immediate, a huff of hot air that ruffled Thomas' hair. He regarded the human, his heavy lids betraying a trace of amusement at the naivety of the question.

"It is not as exciting as what you hear about or read. Be content with the life you have here. It is a gentle and peaceful one."

A long, stifling pause followed. Where Thomas' gaze held nothing but curiosity earlier, it now darkened under the weight of disappointment. He nodded slowly, akin to a student digesting a tough lesson. "Of course, sir," he mumbled, the echo of his dreams deflating under the reality of the dragon's words. "It was just...I was just...curious."

With that, he retreated down the stairs, his steps losing their earlier confidence. His form grew smaller, swallowed by the enveloping darkness. Doravar watched the boy descend, his eyes softening as the echo of footfalls faded away.

An uncharacteristic sigh spilled from Doravar's maw, the exhalation sending a shiver through his scale-studded body. He could feel the weight of eternity pressing upon him, a weariness that tainted his thoughts, his words, his...everything. The boy deserved better.

They all did.

His gaze returned to the sleeping town below, its silence interrupted by the occasional barking of dogs or the shutting of a distant door. The buildings looked strangely cozy in the pale moonlight, their insides filled with people he had seen and heard their names uttered in so many an occasion, yet who he had interacted with only in brief passing.

In the tranquil solitude of the night, the great dragon felt an echo of Thomas' curiosity reverberate within him. Had the world outside this kingdom changed? Could there be more for him beyond the monotony of guard duties and thankless vigil? Doravar shook his massive head, dispersing those troublesome and unsettling thoughts. They had led him to ruin once, long ago.

No more. Never again.

He was the protector of this town; the guardian of this bustling hive of humans. He was the invisible wall that kept many of the outside threats at bay through his name and reputation alone. He was the unappreciated hero that their stories would often exclude in favor of marking their own achievements. This was his fate, his purpose, his duty. The words the boy had errantly shared changed nothing.

And yet, there was a stubborn emptiness that gnawed at his soul, a yearning for something beyond this eternal routine. He knew better than to seek solace in human affairs. They were as ephemeral as the flickering lanterns below, their lives a mere blink in his timeless existence.

His ancient eyes, glowing softly under the moonlit sky, turned once again to the cobblestone streets, resuming his unending vigil.

It must've been a few hours until morning when a tiny flicker of movement caught his attention on the far-off horizon. He had no need of squinting; of straining his eyes against the vast expanse of darkened land to identify the intruder. The approaching figure was small, hardly discernible against the inky backdrop, yet undeniably converging on the town.

Down below, the usually placid ramparts exploded into a flurry of activity, an amusing sight if not for the ensuing panic.

"There will be no need for that." Doravar used his magic to create a misty wall between the incoming guard and the bell he rushed to ring. The perplexed human looked up at the source of the booming voice, panicked out of his mind by an obstacle he could just walk through unharmed.

As always, the remaining watchmen began to assault him with questions and agitated concerns, requiring him to abandon his post and fly down on the wide space below that could house his form. "Return to your posts. And you," his wing pointed at the gathering footmen pouring out of the barracks. "Return to your rest. She's making fools out of you all over again."

Of course those idiots didn't trust him.

They stood firm, a thin line of resistance against the unknown threat. Spears were grabbed, crossbows primed, bows were drawn by those apt in using them. Their faces betrayed their fear, but they remained steadfast atop the walls, ready to protect their loved ones, their homes.

Like a startled hare, Thomas appeared once again, bounding up the tower's winding stairs.

"I'm down here, you goof," Doravar spoke into his mind, almost causing him to topple down the stairs.

His face was ghostly in the moonlight, terror etching deep lines around his youthful eyes. "Sir, we--dragon. There's a dragon!" he urged, the panic evident in his shaky voice. "We can't--we have to prepare for the worst!"

A deep sigh, brimming with annoyance, reverberated through Doravar's chest. "The only threat Khrynia is capable of posing is stirring you lot into a stupidity-fueled frenzy."

It was his fault; he should have handled her long ago. Her love for sowing chaos was as vast as the night sky, and it seemed she was seeking to stir the pot once more.

"But sir, perhaps this time she--"

"Still yourself, Thomas," he admonished, a dismissive flick of his claw cutting through the tension. "Play into her games, and you will only prove her point."

The guard's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you certain, sir?" Thomas implored, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "She might have just found a way to sneak past our defenses and...and...."

The dragon's response was a low, grumbling growl. "Fine," he conceded, irritation etched deep into that single word. "I shall investigate."

With a powerful unfurling of his great wings, Doravar launched himself from the square. The cool air rushed against his scales as he ascended, aiming for the approaching speck. His every muscle protested at the idea of yet another tiresome engagement with Khrynia's senseless pranks.

As he soared above the cowering town, his annoyance simmered, stoked by the interruption of his arguable relaxation. His duty to the town, it seemed, now included the indulgence of whims of a fellow dragon. Worst of all, she'd find a secluded spot to lure him into, smirking in anticipation of his response.

His keen eyes picked out her form hovering at the edge of the forest, her silhouette distorted by the moon's ethereal glow. Khrynia, a fur-coated dragon with wings reminiscent of the night creatures she loved to emulate, zipped through the tree lines, urging him to follow.

The chase did not last long this time. It seemed she picked one of the first clearings she encountered, a stark difference compared to her previous antics.

And Doravar could immediately tell why.

As soon as he landed, he picked up on the bold traces of her arousal, a valid enough reason for a bored creature to lure out the one male she couldn't stop from bothering.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the town's cantankerous guardian," she purred, her voice as suave as her undeniably beautiful body. The corners of her mouth curved upwards in a mischievous smirk, her delight palpable in the crisp night air. "You responded early today. Is it because you are more determined to put an end to all these absurd encounters?"

Though smaller and frailer, the younger dragoness paid no heed to Doravar's superior bulk as she sneaked around his sides to steal glimpses of his underbelly.

"Mrrh..." a low, indifferent growl propagated through his pink throat scales. "Predictable as always."

They had only met several times under similar circumstances, and in every one of such incidents, she flaunted her wild aroma without a shred of dignity.

It wasn't heat. No. This was simply the product of a young, lonely and bored mind who had nothing of worth to preoccupy her intellect with. Wild dragons possessed an innate brashness to them; an embarrassing pride according to which the world--and everyone in it--existed to serve their interests.

Khrynia's striking coloring and features served to further inflate her already obnoxious ego, and she took great pleasure in flaunting the intricacies of her species to males she targeted. Her slender and agile frame was adorned with stripes of a darker shade, like smudgy streaks of dusk painted over a twilight canvas. The velvety shadows curled along her body and traced the outlines of her wing frames, lending her an ethereal allure that had long been stifling Doravar's ire with her.

Those perked crest feathers further added to her expressive allure--dark purple with lighter tips, imbued with the raw, elemental beauty of a stormy night. They rose and fell with the rhythm of her breath, a mesmerizing dance that best outlined her erratic spirit. The same deep purple graced the fur lining her throat, belly, and tail, imbuing her with a regality that was alluringly wild yet fiercely elegant. Her tail ended in a playful tuft that now swayed back and forth while waiting on a potentially positive reaction on his part.

"Hrrrhhh..." the great red dragon, with at least a neck's length of height on her, rumbled ominously to her incessant prancing. His purple-hued frills flared in response; a display that had gone unnoticed.

"No need for such dry intimidation strategies, Doravar," the slippery eel rubbed her side against his, the texture of fur kissing his scales robbing him of his immediate reply. "We are past that, are we not?"

Her wings interested Doravar the most. They made for a spectacular use of gradients, providing a spectrum of dark purple that lightened towards the feathered tips, like the night sky surrendering to the encroaching dawn. The underside boasted two sets of feathers, the first one lighter, the second darker, a curious contrast that best outlined her personality.

Then there were her eyes; those mesmerizing orbs of amethyst that held mischief and allure in graceful proportions.

"I would ask what you are after," His words came out as a growl, an audible manifestation of his aggravation with this waste of time, "but it is quite obvious."

Her giggles floated through the forest, the sound as unexpected and jarring as a thunderclap in a serene sky. "Nothing escapes your notice, does it?" she said, her seductive tone rife with sly delight. "I am not surprised. How many years has it been, Doravar?"

A heavy sigh gusted from Doravar's maw. He knew the undertone of that question and where she wished it to lead.

This time, he no longer felt like postponing it any further.

"Longer than you have been around, whelp," his retort carried only the slightest bite to it to test her. "You shouldn't concern yourself with our needs. They are well taken care of."

"Oh?" her head tilted to one side, the gleam in her eyes intensifying. Her lips drew just a little to reveal the tips of sharp teeth. "Are they? On their end, perhaps, but what about yours? Are they as creative as the tales make them sound in satisfying your needs? All of them?"

The mauve-tipped crest of Doravar perked in challenge. "Join us for a few days and find out for yourself. I suggest we start with a bath to wash out the stink."

"Mhrrrm...." Khrynia's crest flicked in disinterest. "Not likely, Doravar. I take pride in my... natural scent," she purred, a spark of mischief sizzling in her whispered words. "It serves as a potent reminder to the males who dare to encroach upon my territory of the tantalizing allure they could partake in."

A puff of smoke seeped from Doravar's nostrils, curling in the air alongside his amused snort. "If it worked as well as you imply, then you wouldn't be here to waste my time."

Khrynia's laughter was as enticing as the prickly topic of this discussion. "Oh, Doravar, you have so much to learn about the joy of unfettered life. There's a certain delight in doing as one pleases, unbound by society's rigid chains."

Doravar eyed her with a tinge of bemusement, his amber eyes reflecting starlit glow. "I was born a wild dragon, Khrynia. I know all about that," he countered, the subtle touch of authority permeating his words.

"Well put indeed," Khrynia began to pace around as if to study him, paying close attention to the in-between of his legs for manifesting signs of his interest in what she offered. "You've once been free to do as you please, to take whoever you wished into your nest and to...quench your passions as often as you felt the need to. But now..."

Her expression darkened under the mark of disgust for his current status. "You reek of neglect, Doravar. Just like you can smell my desire, so can I identify your bitter loneliness. Always living alongside rules and under the oppressive foot of one too many restrictions. Never stepping out of agreed boundaries. Never experiencing the thrill of unpredictability."

She stopped inches from his impassive expression, her lesser size and height requiring him to look down at her. "Your reputation has carried far and wide indeed. One of the most memorable parts referred to the impossibility of red scaled kind to shoot their seed anywhere else but inside a female. Is there any truth to that?"

Her nostrils twitched as a shudder crept down the length of her spine. He did not need to say it out loud. Not when she smelled it just fine.

Her crest feathers deflated somewhat, part of her verve leaving her. Former excitement gave way to furtive, apologetic glances.

"It is better that you leave," Doravar said, an undercurrent of sternness in his tone. "Heed the warnings of your betters. You will find no solace here."

Khrynia contemplated his words, her gaze thoughtful. "You may be right...," she mused, "But as a wild dragon myself, I cannot turn a blind eye on you."

The added distance between them allowed Doravar to let out a fatigued sigh without Khrynia noticing it.

"I cannot let those pitiful humans squelch the last vestiges of who you used to be. They're--that is what they want! To turn you into a castrated, obedient hound, forever denied of the most significant of pleasures!"

"I have shared those most significant pleasures with my most significant other," Doravar said, his soft tone reflecting his inner peace with everything that had transpired since then. "They might be new to you, but they are lost on me."

"Are they?" She considered his words, a weak, guilty smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Your scent begs to differ," she purred as she once against closed in on him. "It speaks of the one need only another female can quench. Let me be that female, Doravar. Your seed--it won't ever quicken within me. And it must have been so awfully long since you last seeded a dragoness..."

Words. Mere words, meant to flare her own lust. And yet, as the dragoness began to walk circles around his stiff form, that instinctual part of Doravar that she inferred began to stir as he soaked in Khrynia's presence, her vulgar scent seeping into his senses. His breath hitched slightly as an uncomfortable twinge surged through his lower belly, awakening a formerly neglected part of him. It was unexpected, uncouth--a primal reaction that should not have heeded her call.

Now that it did, he could do nothing to stop it.

A few warm tremors passed through his large frame, a tangible shudder that started from the tips of his wings and then slid its way down to the tip of his tail. It was an uncomfortable sensation, a raw energy that rippled through his muscles, making them taut with heightened alertness.

Doravar's pulse heightened, each beat a resonant thrum echoing in the hollow of his being. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, a rhythmic strumming that seemed to keep pace with the rise and fall of Khrynia's own excited breath.

The world around him started to dim, his senses pulled forth by Khrynia. The way her body moved, the flicker of her tail presenting her soaked pink to him, the inviting glint in her amethyst eyes--everything about her seemed amplified, pulling him deeper into a whirlpool of stifled sensations.

An intense heat began to emanate from his lower belly, spreading through his body like wildfire. With each passing moment, the sensation grew stronger, harder to ignore.

He did not deny it, nor moved to cover it. Doravar remained eerily still, allowing that primal need for companionship to manifest in the most instinctual way possible. Vicious as she was in her pursuit of intimacy, Doravar could not deny her feminine allure. His body yearned for her; it craved her presence in a way that words could barely encompass.

Khrynia gave him the courtesy not to stare at his growing erection for too long. She absorbed it; gasped at its unexpected size and enchanting features.

But she did not stare.

Unperturbed by her reactions, Doravar settled on the grass, lips tensing at how his cock seemed to detect even the faintest touch of those feeble blades.

"Doravar..." Khrynia lowered herself down in front of him a fair distance away to avoid invading his personal space while in that state. Her crest flattened fully, ears twitching in surreptitious shame at drawing his great loneliness out into the open. "I...am here for you. That is why I keep coming back, and why I can take no other. I...wish it to be you...."

Her words rang in the air, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. Doravar studied her for a moment, the enormity of her juvenile statement dawning upon him. It was true; beneath all the comfort and stability he found in his solitude, a primal part of him yearned for companionship.

"No amount of plush pillows or obedient servants will keep you warm during the coldest nights," she continued, her voice softer now. "There is something about sharing one's life with another that no amount of material comfort can replicate."

Doravar released a sigh that stirred the fallen leaves between his forepaws, a pang of guilt nibbling at his conscience. Khrynia was an outcast among her kind, and he was one of the few dragons she could stand to be around. "You are not correct," he began, his tone weighted with resignation, "While I may understand--and even tolerate--those bouts of boredom on your part, know that you will only find frustration at my side."

Her eyes skipped to his bobbing shaft, the spaded tip retaining its girth in spite of a lack of physical stimulation. "How about you let me take on all that frustration for you? Ejaculate it all into me. Let me be the one to bear it."

Doravar chuckled at her naivety. "I would mount you from behind. Your back might break under my weight, and I would not be gentle. Once I am inside you, all I'd care about is my pleasure, and I wouldn't stop until it is satisfied."

In response, Khrynia gave a mere shrug of her wings, sending a curtain of leaves flying about.

"You would hardly be my first," her visible defiance merely added to his intrigue with her. "I had enough of young drakes who fall in love with me after the first mating; enough of being coddled, licked all over and pulled into a relationship I do not seek. But you..." she licked her furred lips as her gaze returned to his spire, "are not like them, are you?"

Doravar's cheek frills spread in bold invitation at what she proposed. "I would finish just as quickly as they do. Faster, if you do not crumble under me."

A slight hiss broke past his lips as his cock throbbed in obvious need. He had indulged her long enough. More, and they might find themselves past the point of no return.

Khrynia's eyes softened, a rarely-seen seriousness replacing her usual mischief. "I have prepared for every outcome prior to my visit. Whatever you wish to offer, I am glad to receive."

Doravar mulled over her words. Perhaps she held a sliver of truth; maybe he did need to strike a balance between his sworn duty and deriving pleasure from life. Could he indeed protect the town, yet still find some form of delight within his existence? At present, however, his duty took precedence. His eyes landed on Khrynia one final time before heaving a sigh.

His haunch spread open to unveil his malehood, the indecency of it gnawing at his heart.

"Look. Smell. Touch, if you please. Satisfy your curiosity so that this whole charade ends..."

His crass suggestion seemed to hit a soft spot within Khrynia, her features softening further. "I...that has never been my intent," she murmured, her gaze tender. "I simply wish to help you remember the life you used to have, vibrant and free of responsibilities towards others. Is that truly so outlandish a concept to you?"

A scornful snort left Doravar's nostrils. "You only seek the pleasure of mating, Khrynia, not the depth of a relationship."

Khrynia's head tilted to the side, crest erect in offense. "That is what dragons do. They bask in their needs and relish life. Such is our way."

"Not mine. Not any longer." Doravar's frills folded as he adopted a more relaxed stance now that his physical excitement began to shrink and retreat back from whence it came. "You haven't been through it, Khrynia. You aren't aware of where those impulses can lead."

A smirk bloomed on Khrynia's features, replacing her previous concern. "Thank the fates our species are different enough to avoid any unnecessary entanglements."

The more she insisted on it, the more Doravar's patience started to give. "And what joys might you be suggesting, Khrynia? Gallivanting aimlessly, stirring trouble without a cause? Breeding until your flesh turns sore?"

"Why, aimless flight has its own charm," she pushed herself up to her feet now that she no longer felt trapped by the presence of Doravar's erection. "As for causing trouble... Well, occasionally, a dose of disruption can add flavor to life. Maintains its vibrancy."

Doravar's head shook with practiced nonchalance, his unyielding countenance unwavering. "I have no room for frivolity and games in my life. My duty lies with the town and its denizens."

A scorn-filled chuckle spilled from Khrynia. "If that is your chosen path, Doravar. Just bear in mind that life is fleeting. I'd hate to see you squander it all on somber responsibilities. Now then..."

The dragoness unfurled her great wings, throwing him one last glance. "Since you made it abundantly clear you wouldn't have me for the night, I will find a male who does."

With those parting words, she launched herself into the air, leaving an oppressive solitude engulf the clearing. Doravar's eyes followed her ascent, a cocktail of irritation and amusement stirring within him. Khrynia was an enigma; of that there was no doubt. Still, for a lust-addled young female, she composed herself quite well, enough to deliver some thought-provoking lines.

"Grrrhhh..." Doravar pushed himself to his fours, a certain lassitude weighing down on him. He felt frustratingly unfulfilled, and no one in his town would be able to cure his ailing.

Only another dragoness could.

As he took wing to make his way back to town, his tail jerked violently mid-motion as claws grappled it. It took all of his self-control to subdue his warrior's instincts and avoid lashing the dragoness out of the sky with a well-placed swing of his tail.

His darkening eyes met the sight of Khrynia's claws wrapped around his tail, her wings beating furiously to make up for the decrease in their flight speed.

"Come on, Doravar, let's indulge in some frivolity!" she called up, her voice carried on the wind, a cheeky grin playing on her maw.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, frustration simmering beneath the surface. She had no idea of the danger she might have put herself in. "Loosen your grip, Khrynia. This will not end well for you."

Something about the gruffness of his threat further added to the dragoness' hilarity. Her claws, as expected, didn't relinquish their grip. Instead, they tightened, her resolve evident in her stance. "It won't. Not unless you spend the night with me. Or at least a few hours!"

Sighing, Doravar recognized the futility of his objections. This was not a battle he could win. Not up here. "Fine. I will watch over you as I do the human children."

A triumphant grin stretched across Khrynia's face as inspiration struck her. "Let's play a game! I'll take the lead in flight, and you must catch me. Should you manage that, I'll grant your freedom for the night."

Doravar's crest quirked upward, his curiosity piqued despite his annoyance. "And if I can't reach you?"

Khrynia blinked in confusion, her eyes bubbling with impish delight. "Then, it appears you're fated to endure my presence for a while longer."

A groan of vexation escaped Doravar. He was left with no choice but to comply. His wings unfurled, stretching out to their full span. With a powerful thrust, he propelled himself after the swiftly descending Khrynia, his wings adjusting at expert angles to shorten this pointless chase. But Khrynia was nimble, swift as a hawk in flight, her body weaving through the sky with an enthralling elegance.

The skies became their battleground, the crisp air their witness as Khrynia weaved in and out of billowing clouds. Her lilac fur shimmered in the pale moonlight, the dampness condensed on it reflecting hues of purple and silver as she danced through the endless expanse. With each powerful beat of her wings, she shot forward, her movements agile and precise.

When Doravar moved in to catch her, she darted low, sweeping just above the treetops, causing a rustle through the leaves. She took a sudden sharp turn, her wings folding against her body as she threaded through a narrow gorge, her nimble form easily fitting between the rocky walls. Every now and then, she would swoop up, her body spiraling as she ascended, reaching for the heavens before plummeting back down.

Doravar did not play into her plan. He pursued her from afar with steady determination. His vast wings, while not as quick, provided strength and endurance. He knew he couldn't match Khrynia's speed, but he had something she didn't--experience. His eyes, trained over a century and a half, keenly watched her every move, understanding her patterns, calculating her next maneuver.

Despite Khrynia's swift and evasive maneuvers, Doravar found her movements growing predictable. Her dips and dives, her sharp turns and sudden ascents--it was a dance he'd seen before, a dance he'd learned through countless years of practice. And as Doravar analyzed her patterns, a sense of impending victory filled his chest.

His fiery gaze remained locked on Khrynia's lilac silhouette, a beacon against the azure canvas. Gradually, he started to match her rhythm, his strokes mirroring hers, his timing syncing with her fleeting maneuvers.

As he anticipated her paths, he managed to reduce the distance between them. Each wingbeat brought him closer, each breath filled with her scent spurring him on. His claws itched to close around her tail, the prize within his sight but just out of his reach.

With each passing moment, the playful smirk on Khrynia's face seemed to wane, replaced by growing alarm at the sight of Doravar looming form. Her maneuvers gave in to erratic desperation, the previously practiced fluidity of her flight faltering into uncoordinated stunts driven by instinct.

The gap between them only continued to shrink further and further.

In the penultimate moment, Doravar lunged forward, a powerful thrust of his wings pushing him with an added burst of speed. His heart pounded in his chest as his claws reached out, Khrynia's tail mere inches away.

He got her. His grip closed around Khrynia's tail, impeding her flight for the briefest of moments before letting go. Her surprised roar echoed through the air, eyes wide as the moon above she glared back at him.

"That was pure luck, Doravar!" she called out, her rage stolen by the wind. "You only caught me because I chose to be careful and not skim the treetops!"

Doravar landed on a jutting cliff, his form a towering silhouette against the creeping dawn. "You did the right thing. No meaningless victory is worth a broken wing," he said, his tone firm yet amused at her display of indignation.

Her eyes narrowed, lips twitching with the urge to spew something witty.

She couldn't.

But what she could do was attempt to salvage her pride.

"Well then, Doravar," her former mischief-laden purr reemerged. "How about a rematch? Or is the mighty Doravar afraid of being bested by a female?"

A low growl resonated from Doravar's chest, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. He cared little for meaningless victories and equally tepid defeats. Unlike Khrynia, he had responsibilities; tasks that competed for his attention back in the town. He opened his mouth to decline, but Khrynia's words came first.

"If you don't accept, I might just have to follow you into town. Always wanted to find out more about those people who huddle into hovels and ring bells when danger looms near."

"Hrrrrrrhhhh..." a great sigh escaped him, his resistance crumbling under her relentless teasing. The thought of Khrynia causing a scene in town was something he'd rather avoid. "Fine. One more game. After that, our meeting is concluded."

Her response was a triumphant roar as her wings flapped in excitement. "Deal! This time, though, let's make it more interesting. A wrestling match on the ground."

At least it wouldn't last long.

Doravar followed Khrynia as she glided from the cliff down to a forested patch below, landing in a spacious clearing surrounded by towering trees. The area was bathed in the cold glow of the presiding moon, painting the foliage in a mystical nocturnal shimmer. The soft rustling of leaves and the melodic chirping of distant birds provided a serene backdrop to their upcoming bout.

A wrestling match seemed like the worst choice for Khrynia, but with her, things never were what they appeared. She believed it to be a fairer game, one that required strength and strategy rather than flight speed and agility. It also eliminated the risk of straying too far away from the town and lose Doravar's interest before the challenge even started.

The hint of amusement that played on Doravar's snout did not escape Khrynia. His large form towered over Khrynia's smaller figure, making the idea of wrestling seem far from balanced. His deep red scales flickered in the fading light, each muscle underneath taut and ready for action as he regarded Khrynia with perplexed amusement. This wasn't a contest that favored any of her skills. It was a contest of strength, something which Doravar had in abundance.

Khrynia, in contrast, looked undeterred. Despite being dwarfed by Doravar's imposing figure, her vibrant amethyst eyes shone with determination. Her wings were unfurled, casting long, lilac-hued shadows on the grass beneath. Her tail whipped back and forth, betraying her excitement for ending exactly where she intended.

Beneath him.

"You could have just asked me again," he said as his posture shifted into his preferred combat stance, with the hind legs firmly set into the ground and the front low, like a pouncing feline.

"Would that have changed your answer? Because I don't think it would have."

Doravar watched her warily. He had no desire to hurt Khrynia. His strength was a formidable force, and he was acutely aware of the potential harm his claws could inflict upon her frailer furred hide. His wings tucked to his sides to shrink them as much as possible to prevent damage.

"Do not push me too far," he cautioned, "I do not wish to harm you, but I will not sit idle either."

Khrynia nodded, a crooked grin spreading across her snout. "Of course, Doravar," she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "Where is the joy in facing an unmovable boulder?"

They began to circle each other, their eyes locked in mutual scrutiny. Doravar's movements had a tactful sluggishness to them, calculated and precise. Khrynia, on the other hand, moved with a quickness and agility that bespoke of her youthful excitement, her lean and nimble body a striking contrast to Doravar's bulk.

Khrynia lunged, aiming for Doravar's softer chest scales. The intent of the sudden attack was to catch him off-guard, but Doravar simply had to step to the side and let the momentum carry her onward. This was not a contest for him, but mere playing.

The gutsy dragoness didn't let his indifference deter her. She spun around to face him with the aid of her tail and wings, launching herself at Doravar from the side. This time, she tried to sweep his legs out from under him with her tail, but Doravar leapt over her with a single flap of his wings, landing on the other side with an effortless grace.

A wing claw pointed at her exposed throat, showing her what this move had cost her, should a readier male make use of this moment to end her.

Frustration crept into Khrynia's narrowing eyes. She pounced and attacked Doravar again and again, preferring quick and agile attacks meant to imbalance or surprise her opponent rather than tackle Doravar in close range combat. A solid strategy, if only she employed it against a lesser skilled opponent.

Doravar proved the futility of Khrynia's attempts to gain the upper hand on him by letting her exhaust herself. He knew he could end this game anytime he wanted. But he also knew how important this was for Khrynia. She needed to prove to herself that she could hold her own against him.

As the dragoness' breaths grew increasingly labored, Doravar found an opportunity to make her relentless efforts pay off. When Khrynia charged him again, the familiarity with her attack patterns allowed him to end this bout in a favorable way for the both of them. As Khrynia's weight slammed into him, Doravar intentionally allowed her tail to catch across a hind leg, causing him to stumble back. His massive form crashed into the grass, pink belly exposed to the victor.

Khrynia didn't seize the moment. She halted where she stood, panting heavily. Her predatory gaze fixed on Doravar's fallen form, wide-eyed with disbelief.

Then, a scornful snort broke the silence. "You let me win," Khrynia accused, her voice barely above a whisper. Doravar opened his mouth to deny it, but found it impossible to do so. "Why?" she demanded, her voice growing louder. "Because you felt pity? Or because you were too bored of this game?"

Doravar picked himself up, dusting off his wings with a few flicks. "The point of this game was for it to eventually end," he said, his voice steady. "I made it end."

Khrynia's face twisted into a scowl. "I don't need your pity, Doravar. I don't need you to let me win!" she spat, crest feathers flared to their tallest.

Then, her eyes darkened, a dangerous glint flashing within them. "Is that how you won your mate over? By granting her a meaningless victory to balm her sore feelings?" she sneered, her voice laced with frustration-fueled sarcasm.

The mention of his mate hit Doravar with the intensity of one of those massive arrows that had brought about her demise, drawing every ounce of sympathy from his livid glare. Memories of her flooded him; the love they had shared, the hatchlings they brought into this world, the pain of losing them all.

"Don't," his grave growl rumbled deep within his chest, a thunderstorm of colossal proportions. But Khrynia only sneered at him, her eyes challenging him to admit to this senseless thing.

In a flash, Doravar was upon her. His forepaws stomped on her wings, his tail slamming hers down on the grass. He did not even have to worry about the kicking and thrashing of her hind legs, as Khrynia froze beneath him. Long, sharp, ivory fangs closed in on her furred throat, snapping inches from it.

Khrynia gasped, her bravado drowned by fear.

"Never," Doravar hissed, his voice filled with menace, "mention her in this manner." His amber eyes bore into hers, drilling this lesson deep into her being.

"I...I will not. I promise...."

Silence engulfed the clearing. Doravar's breaths came out in ragged pants that interspersed with Khrynia's.

She stank. Of exertion, of her inner wildness.

Of arousal.

Doravar's head twisted this way and that while attempting to block it out, but there was no stopping her sharp fragrance from creeping into his nostrils. As his gaze once again returned to the entrapped dragoness who stared back at him with the same gripping terror from before.

Why was he still atop her? Why did he not budge?

Khrynia's meandering attention revealed the truth of his plight to him. Anger heated his blood; it overtook his mind and awoke an instinctual part of him he had thrown under the blanket of neglect for too long.

But now, when above a ready and willing dragoness reeking of carnal desire, his senses and priorities muddled. He...did not desire this. But his hardness--that stiff, bobbing, aching erection filled with agonizing longing--begged to differ.

And she would come again. Over and over, until he finally indulged her. So why not do it now?

To do it just this one time and be rid of this maddening and all-consuming desire and Khrynia both?

That silent, permeating question hung heavily in the air. Khrynia's haunches parted. Slowly, timidly, yet undoubtedly acceptant of his decision to claim her, as was his right as the true victor of their brawl.

"Ghrrrrrrrrr!" Doravar attempted to snap himself out of this frustrating ordeal. "Go! Go and leave me alone!"

Though his forepaws and tail freed her, Khrynia remained put, blinking at him in a pleading, sympathy-filled way.

A thunderous rumble erupted from Doravar's throat. "That...rrreek of yours," he growled, each word a clash of abhorrence and reluctant desire. "It's... it sickens me!"

His snout wrinkled, a visible manifestation of his internal struggle. The potent aroma, a primal scent that wafted from Khrynia's heated depths, had him ensnared in a whirlpool of conflict. "It's like a vile tempest that assaults the senses, stinging, choking...it's ...grrh....unbearable," he gnashed his teeth at her, his tone as harsh as the truth he voiced.

But even in his growing irritation, there was an undeniable magnetism that kept his gaze locked on her; on the origin of that odorous call that both repelled and enticed him. "And yet," he grumbled, a soft note of bewilderment seeping into his conflicted expression, "it's this very storm I find myself drawn to, an irresistible chaos that I...can't seem to elude."

His heart pounded, harder and harder, a wild, feral beat echoing his internal battle. The conflict between what his mind abhorred and what his body craved grew evident in the hardness of his cock, in the rigidity of his ridges.

Heaving a sigh rife with resignation and pent-up desire, he spat out, "I'm trapped between loathing and an inexplicable pull. This stench of yours... you're... infuriating!"

Doravar could hardly think straight. He found himself enveloped in an olfactory storm of Khrynia's undeniably punget scent, raw and complex, that seemed to form an enveloping cloud around the pair. It was a blend of intense feminine flavors and salty exertion, a concoction brewed and released in its most untamed form. It was a potent perfume of wild allure that was impossible to ignore. The essence of her, strong and tangy, hinted at a willing female at the zenith of her readiness, spurring to action a male that teetered on the brink of surrender.

Reacting on instinct, his body responded to the allure of her spicy aroma with a hissing growl. Blood boiled within him. It thrummed with an urgent, almost desperate rhythm, a chorus that echoed through every fiber of his being. Arousal began to drip from his twitching member, the clear fluid webbing its way down on Khrynia's underbelly to deposit on her puffy, exposed lips. His breath hitched in his throat, trapped in the throes of the powerful aroma that entwined his senses, its allure inexorably drawing him towards its source.

He loathed it. He despised it! And yet, he needed to smell it, to study it, to feel its untamed force seep into his being.

"Doravar, what are you--" Khrynia started upon noticing the slow trek of his snout down her body. Her wings fluttered at her sides, hind legs twitching and trembling with subtle need.

Doravar's eyes remained fixed on her abashed expression. He witnessed the sagging of her crest and the paws ready to blot out the embarrassing realization that he'd soon smell that neglected vent of hers.

Shame did nothing to stop him. Not now. Not when every tantalizing inch led him closer to his objective.

Even from up here, still a distance from her femininity, the symphony of scents emanating from Khrynia's vent was a melody of earthy undertones, interwoven with rich, acrid, and rich, sensual hues. This olfactory blend slipped into his nostrils, filling his lungs, ignited a fire that blazed through his body. He was close, dangerously close, his snout almost brushing against the damp exterior of her vent, each breath he drew in pulling him deeper into the whirlpool of her essence.

Doravar nuzzled the damp clumps of fur, sticky with her older essence. The warmth oozing from her flesh caressed his chin, reminding him of just how hot Khrynia's passion burned at this time of night.

"Doravar, you don't have to--"

His creasing lips broached no argument.

He continued to breath in that erotic miasma from afar, so that his faltering lucidity wouldn't give in so quickly to the untamed need of claiming her. It had been so long since he last smelled a wild dragon in such a state, where she purposefully avoided to wash this part of herself to keep the pull of pheromones strong.

Every whiff taught him something new about this so-called reek of hers. It was a seductive blend of her rough, specific scent intertwined with the heady musk of arousal. It wrapped around him like a sultry shroud, spiraling into the very depths of his senses, stirring a whirlwind of long-forgotten emotions. His body resonated with a singular, compelling need, his erection throbbing in tandem with his rapidly beating heart.

His breathing grew heavier, each ragged exhale brushing against her slick nether fur. The taste of her scent on his tongue was a bitter-sweet cacophony, an erotic amalgam of intermingling notes that only served to fuel his desire further. Enthralled by Khrynia's essence, he let it seep into him, fill him, until he grew infatuated with her.

The sweet torture emanating from his throbbing shaft was becoming impossible to ignore. It was like a beacon of untamed need, its rhythm guiding him ever closer to the heart of his desire. He lingered there, on the precipice of her vent, breathing her in, letting the scent envelop him, infiltrate him, and awaken sensations that he had long since stifled.

As he neared her the fleshy and exposed portions of her vent, the fragrance became sharper, more potent, the wild and untamed notes of her reek far more resonant above her shuddering cleft. The musk that had driven him so wild was now laced with a potent roughness, hinting at the primitive need for physical intimacy broiling within her. His snout twitched, aching to delve into the source of this heady fragrance.

With a tender yet assertive nudge of his snout, he kissed her vent, drawing a sharp, moaning gasp from Khrynia. Hot, squelching wetness met him in its embrace, intoxicating in its raw and unfiltered intimacy. As he lifted his snout to process it, the acrid fragrance of her neglected state washed over him, causing his frame to tremble in aroused disgust for how far she'd go to enrapture his faltering senses. The tangy sharpness now came with the pungent undertones of swampy musk, an unmistakably stimulating bouquet of scents that choked his senses in the best possible way.

This chocking aroma wafting from the depths of her sex possessed stale nuances. It was musky and undeniably odorous, painting a stark portrait of Khrynia's untamed sexuality. He struggled to fully comprehend it as he drank it in, driven forth by the male urge to sample his female prior to entering her.

More. He had to have....more.....

Doravar's snout lingered above her slit, his gaze fixated on the wet, pronounced pink of her flesh. Arousal flooded the smooth, heated surface of her sex, turning the fur around it into a darker, far more erotic color. Smudges of her fluids trailed and soaked the region surrounding her nethers, creating uneven clumps of spiky fur where it began to dry.

Doravar was most interested in the bubbly fluids creeping through her cleft, the agitated shudders and clenches of her muscles adding that enthralling texture to the otherwise uneventful juices. Spasms would traverse her depths now and then, causing her vent to visibly twitch and shudder under the erratic impulses of pent-up anticipation. It took great restraint from Doravar to avoid licking her; to stop him from grooming that patch of exposed vulnerability.

"You can enter me," Khrynia whispered on a hushed tone, all of her verve drowned by the wild pounding of her heart. "I am more than ready. I've been....ready for days....weeks...."

He already deduced that from the biting aroma pouring out of her just now. Entering her at this moment would have been a mercy, both to her and to himself.

But first....

With a gentleness that belied the raw power in his forepaws, Doravar's careful toes began to part her vent, releasing a low, lust-filled, guttural growl as he did. The sight that met him was as compelling as her scent. Arousal-adorned walls parted before him, the powerful tremors coursing through them keeping her inner flesh together. Yet the more strength he applied, the more they began to give, betraying their lightly ridged insides to his inquisitive eyes and flared, hungry nostrils. The deluge of her far staler, far stronger musk hit him so hard he had to whip his head back and snort a tongue of flame to clear it, lest his wildly throbbing cock loosened its seed.

"Doravar!" Khrynia gasped, her light kicks attempting to keep him away from his treasure.

His rough, dominant growl stilled her in an instant as his attention returned to her vent that he once again spread in instinct-driven, lustful curiosity.

So smooth, so...appealing and slick and glistening with ubiquitous arousal. It had been so very long since he had last laid eyes on the private parts of a female; so awfully long since he last smelled and peered inside one. Khrynia might not have understood the significance of this gesture. Of why he would not claim her like most males would have by now.

Doravar could not explain the depths of it either. Not right now, when his mind whirled with so many suppressed yearnings for intimacy that he had, for far too long, shunned. His mate had guided him down her body, daring him to do to her what he did to Khrynia just now. He hadn't lasted long back then. A whiff and a peek into her depths, and his seed had burst all over her.

The same almost happened now, more than a century later since his last intimate act with a female.

"Grrrh...." Irritation rumbled within him, a tempest of emotional struggle heightened by permeating frustration of a sexual nature. He should have left now that his curiosity had been sated.

But he found it impossible to wrest himself free of Khrynia's undeniable pull. The sharp-scented drool coating her entrance and insides beckoned him, the raw sexuality of this vulgar display tugging at his senses, leaving him torn between his rampant need and the peculiar sensation of repulsion with his carnal weakness.

As he spread her open once again, that strong, untamed musk wafted out, slamming into his senses with all the subtlety of a war hammer. His senses fizzled and whirled in the face of such battering assault, the ridges of his shaft hardening with undeniable purposes. Inebriated by her scent, he found himself helpless against the allure of experiencing what must have been an equally strong and exotic state.

As the stimulating musk of her arousal lingered in the air, Doravar's snout inched closer to that well of stale and dizzying aromas. The first contact of his tongue with her slick flesh had him drawing back with a hiss, his snout wrinkled all over due to how sharp and biting her flavor turned out to be. Her taste carried an overpowering exotic flair, a vigorous combination of condensed longing and salty exertion from earlier, leaving him snarling at its surprising intensity. Despite the grimace that contorted his face, he found himself unable to resist the allure of a second try.

As his tongue trailed over the length of her shuddering flesh, Khrynia writhed and moaned, her nether muscles clenching and oozing new nectar for him to sample. Her essence, tangy and strident, provided a burst of indescribable flavor on his tongue, a heady cocktail that stirred his instincts into a frenzy. Slightly acrid undertones made themselves known to his senses, shadowed by her specific musk, stifling and raw. Her aroma, so foreign yet rich, had him recoil in instinctive disgust, only to find his jaws trembling in need for a second taste in the next moment.

Doravar delved deeper, his tongue plunging into her vent to feast on the thicker, saltier, and far more noticeable flavors sticking onto her lightly ribbed walls. The wet squelching sounds of his feasting filled the clearing that should have been Khrynia's to dominate.

She didn't. Doravar's assault left her whimper in breathless effort to retain her lucidity as she kicked and writhed and thrashed, jaws trembling under her pleading eyes to keep going.

Once started, he had no intention to stop.

The taste of her, so potent and addictive, enraptured him like nothing else the humans had ever done, drawing him into an vulgar display of primal desires. Her permeating musk, so heady and intoxicating, became both his torment and his solace, pulling him deeper into the whirlpool of desire and revulsion.

He had no control. Not anymore. Once he swallowed her pheromone-laden arousal, his instincts could no longer be suppressed. So, he licked and slurped and roared and growled, caught in the fetters of maddening desire for more of what the opposite gender offered.

The cries and moans that Khrynia unleashed filled the air, mingling with the sounds of their perverse union. Each yowl seemed to flare his passion for her distinct flavor, driving him further in spite of his approaching climax due to how overpowering her taste turned out to be. His tongue sought out the hidden crevices of her vent, whirling and twisting and coiling to collect all that pungent drool to feast on, the dizzying fragrance of her arousal making him grimace and hiss for more.

Though hazy and unfocused, his eyes darted to Khrynia now and then; to her teary, narrowed gaze and lolling tongue that begged him to keep it up. The dragoness no longer had the energy to roar, moan or whimper, her gaped maw denoting her utter shock with how effectively his tongue worked up her throbbing and twitching insides.

Sensing the heralding contractions of her incoming climax, Doravar's actions grew frenzied, the addictive brew of her congealed longing savory on his tongue. Each thrust of his tongue was met with a violent quake from Khrynia, the wet slurps and fleshy squelches produced by his snout bucking into her echoing in his ears. They drove him further into the abyss of desire, flaring his lust to the limits of his sanity.

Each swipe of his tongue sent shivers of desire coursing through him, the intense jolts and twitches rushing through of his cock a constant reminder of how addictive female dragons could be to those who gave in to temptation. Her juices drenched his snout and her scent filled his nostrils, an intoxicating blend that had him where Khrynia had always wanted.

Between her legs.

Now that his fight to resist her completely vanished, Doravar dominated her in other ways. He had complete control over her movements, over her very breathing. Thrust his tongue too deep, and she would immediately tense up and curl. Swirl his tip around, and the dragoness mewled and whined in ecstasy, her innermost flesh far too vulnerable and receptive to an appendage that possessed such heightened degree of self-control.

The poor thing no longer had the stamina to endure even the slightest tease, the rhythmical clenches of her nether muscles desperate in their attempts to hold Doravar in; to milk and squeeze him of seed that wouldn't come.

No longer wishing to prolong her torment, Doravar withdrew his tongue from her quivering depths and began to lap at her fevered mound. The pleasure generated at the surface or her vent was softer, gentler, yet equally devious in slowly pushing her to the point of no return. Her body responding to this change of pace through a harmonious dance by bending and weaving from side to side, as if trying to find respite from his assaults.

Doravar did not relent. No matter how heavy and desperate Khrynia's panting became, he kept his snout glued to her sex, his tongue trailing over it over and over again.

The softening sounds of her pleasure added to the flutter of his frenzied heart. With every lick and every delve of his tongue past her stubborn lips, Khrynia's wing beats became increasingly wild, her body ravaged by the throes of impending climax. As the rocking of her body grew more severe, Doravar's strong forepaws latched onto her haunches to keep her in place. His snout squeezed against her puffy mound so that his tongue could fully penetrate and savage her insides. These were not the gentle, tantalizing licks from earlier, but the strong, insistent thrusts bent on stimulating every inch of her walls until she could no longer withstand him.

Wild tremors shook Khrynia's underbelly, her limbs kicking frantically for a few moments. Then, complete stillness, followed by a hard grasp of her powerful nether muscles around his tongue.

Doravar's heart skipped a beat, his senses shocked by the strength of her grip. As soon as she let go, her gushing release followed in one massive squirt. That wave of biting juices splattered upon Doravar's exposed face, spraying musky climax into his mouth, nostrils and even eyes. His flight membranes draped too late over his eyes to keep the gooey release from entering them, just like his snout that had to pull back and snort her strident-smelling female ejaculate that filled up his nostrils.

As soon as the tickle in his nostrils faded, the pungent aroma lingering within urged the red dragon to return to her shuddering vent; to pin her down so that he could resume feasting upon the rough-smelling honey surfacing from her depths.

As expected, her climax had a slightly thicker texture the deeper his tongue pushed, the strings there more stubborn and insistent. Doravar's rough, possessive growl reverberated within the depths of his throat as he began swallowing as much of her essence as possible, his hips jerking his cock forward in wishful attempts to mount her.

His great wings prevented Khrynia from noticing his shame; not that she would have taken note of it, anyway. Her face buried into her forepaws, crystalline tears streaming from her scrunched eyes as she continued to mewl and whimper under the renewed assault of his tongue. She was still so vulnerable; so receptive! Yet Doravar's unleashed instincts refused to take her comfort into account. He delved hard and deep into her, scooping up the potent mixture, each stroke serving to inflame his senses even more. It was a wild, macabre feast, the rush of her climax an amalgam of one too many complex flavors that left him roaring his need of her.

The all-consuming and undeniable need to breed filled his mouth, a bitter yet addictively tangy elixir that had him snarl and hiss in disgust and satisfaction alike with how strident she reeked and tasted. Those pheromones had an irresistible pull, however, the unique blend of her climax an effective lure that pulled him into a vortex of raw sexuality.

As he consumed the very essence of her being, Doravar's former reluctance began to ebb away. Her pleasure, so evident in her cries and in the spray of her climax against his snout, broke through every barrier he tried to erect around himself to safeguard his vow of never seeding another dragoness.

This was the end of it, however. Too close to climax, Doravar's instinct got the better of him. His soggy snout surged upward, a keening roar announcing his claim over her. His body shifted over her out of its own accord, the primal need within him taking over as he aimed his throbbing erection at the drenched and heated promise of her sheltering embrace. It was an irresistible pull, one that he was helpless to resist. Each inch he covered heightened his heart beats and hardened his ridges, the spade tipping his shaft already rock-hard with purpose. The intoxicating fragrance of her arousal oozed all around him, blanketing him in a gentle miasma that robbed him of all worries and frustrations.

Only one remained; the one that only a female dragon could help drain from his body.

As he slid into her, Doravar traded the world around him for an entirely new one. A primal growl burst from the depths of his throat as he claimed her, the unique and overpowering feeling of her tight warmth molding around him sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Doravar couldn't help himself. Against all of his internal struggles, his hips arched to drive the entirety of his shaft into her, gnashing his teeth at the ubiquitous pleasure threatening to undo his already thin self control. His bottom spines slid into Khrynia effortlessly, the copious amounts of female ejaculate preventing her light ridges from catching them. The ridges lining his base posed some difficulties, too wide and tight from overstimulation, yet a few firm pushes saw them through her stubborn lips. His shaft fully sunk into her, Doravar's balance wavered as his roar died down, replaced by guttural moans as he struggled to process these almost-foreign, drowning sensations.

Beneath him, Khrynia let out a sharp cry at being fully penetrated, her body shuddering in ecstasy. Her claws dug into the grass beneath them as her frame began to convulse. Doravar, too, squeezed his eyes shut as a series of brief, sudden spasms assaulted his cock and pushed him further into the throes of their shared intimacy.

She did not climax again, but she got very close.

This unexpected occurrence further flared Doravar's longing. The sensation of being inside a female after all this time far surpassed his memories of the act. Khrynia's twitching and gripping flesh had a warm, inviting wetness to it, a perfect shelter for his long-neglected cock. Her body yielded to his control, accommodating his size with an inviting tenderness that embraced him in its velvety softness. The feeling was intoxicating, overwhelming his senses and pushing him further into the abyss of desire.

Each light, jerky, almost nervous thrust brought forth new sensations, her walls tightening around him in rhythmic spasms that made his breath hitch in his throat. Her whimpers of delight echoed in his ears, adding fuel to the roaring fire of his lust. His perception narrowed down to the timid dance of their bodies, to their shared, labored breaths and the raw pleasure that consumed them both.

Every time he throbbed or tensed within her, Khrynia's muscles contracted around him, pushing him closer to the edge. After those few tentative thrusts, Doravar froze. He was lost in her, consumed by the relief only she could provide. His breaths came in ragged pants, the pleasure spiraling out of control as he rode the wave of their shared ecstasy.

He did not have to move or do anything. Khrynia's milking clenches did all the work for him by stimulating every inch of his spade and ridge and spines, setting every fiber of his being alive and tingling with building ecstasy. The urge to let go of all his pent-up burdens grew to overwhelming proportions, the pressure welled within the depths of his vent a searing and unyielding mass he couldn't prevent from erupting.

Feeling himself slip, Doravar's trembling haunches pressed closer to Khrynia's, his belly hugging hers in instinctive urge to feel their vents kiss and ensure that his seed burst into her deepest reaches.

Each wild throb and twitch that ravaged his shaft was met with silent gasps from Khrynia. Her body tensed around him in response, the tight clench of her insides driving him closer to the edge. His breaths grew ragged, desperate, tinted by irrational panic that soon slipped into the enveloping overwhelm of climax.

Doravar's senses strained to their very limits, his consciousness on the verge of passing out from the sheer amplitude of his building orgasm. Every feature of his cock swelled to the brim, the ridges surrounding his base impossibly tight and sensitive. An immense, molten stress concentrated within his groin, held back by sheer instinct. The more he resisted, the greater the pleasure, the far more difficult struggle to contain it. Brief, watery spurts shot from his tip as the red dragon began to tremble in anticipation, his roar choked by the vastness of his impending orgasm.

When he could hold it in no longer, Doravar broke loose. Every claw pressed hard into the ground, teeth gritted. Pent-up yearning, amassed over decades without a female to tame it, exploded out of him and into Khrynia's milking depths, the sharp pleasure of climax thoroughly enveloping and consuming what little lucidity he still clung onto. It was like a primal wave that swept all of his prejudice away, leaving only the need to cum as his most pressing urge.

Every muscle in his body stiffened with purpose as his cock jolted, twitched and throbbed in erratic ecstasy. Lances of blazing heat, starting from his loins and radiating through his length, burst into Khrynia with searing might, every single spurt adding to the budding tears welling within the corners of his eyes due to immensity of such pure and unbridled release.

His gasping yelps of ecstasy mingled with Khrynia's equally high-pitched cries, a primal cacophony of intermingled delight. His body convulsed in unison with Khrynia's, both of them caught in the inexplicable strain of mutual delight.

As the throbs rushing through his shaft began to wane, Doravar swept a forepaw under Khrynia to bring her against his chest and hug her tight while the remainder of his essence gushed into her. The dragoness' forearms latched around his neck in response, their snouts finding one another to breathe their exertion into each other's nostrils.

Only a trickle of his previous might lingered. With his senses slowly recovering from this ordeal, Doravar eased Khrynia back and blinked back tears of confusion from his gaze. Beneath him, Khrynia kept her eyes closed, purring and moaning contentedly in the aftermath of their coupling.

He remained still for a moment, every breath bringing renewed clarity to his mind. He had willingly surrendered to the impulses of the flesh, a gross violation to the promise he had made long, long ago to the charred bones of his mate. Guilt nudged at the corners of his pounding head, inviting a creeping sense of unease through his spent, shivering form.

"I did not expect that, Doravar." Khrynia's amethyst eyes cracked open halfway, their sly and seductive gaze pushing back his doubts for a split moment. Warm, padded paws enveloped his cheeks, rustling against those softer scales. "By the looks of it, neither did you."

The dragoness' underbelly was slick and wet with the aftermath of his tongue's attentions, a comforting warmth that kept him buried inside her a while longer. Khrynia continued to speak and caress and lick at his snout, but Doravar's eyes remained fixed in the distance, on the light creeping on the horizon.

He did not return her affections. No matter how tenderly she asked for them. As his heart began to still, he found no dread lingering within it. Just a tinge of guilt that he could not shake off, no matter how much of Khrynia's lingering musk he breathed in.

"I must fly back."

His lips pulled into a snarl, his spent cock oversensitive to stimulation as his ridges plopped out of Khrynia one messy squelch at a time. Once fully withdrawn from her depths, a deluge of their entrapped fluids bubbled to the surface, painting Khrynia's sex with the colors of their union.

Doravar glared at the consistency of his pent-up seed. At how much of it he loosened, at how starkly it contrasted with the deeper, rich pink of her tender flesh. Interspersed amidst his burdening longing was the clear, thick essence of Khrynia's own orgasm, strands of it clinging to the thick creaminess of his release, the blend oozing a musk that now sickened him.

"Must you?" Khrynia perked her head, keeping her hindquarters still to soak in the blissful aftermath of being seeded. "In that state?"

He felt it, yes, the grime of their union sticking to his retreating cock and to his lower belly.

Yet it was still nothing compared to what he did to Khrynia.

The intertwined fluids slowly seeped out of her vent, tracing a path downwards in a slow, languid pace. They pooled on her tailhole and on the ground beneath her, a blend of thick creaminess and clear slickness.

He grimaced at that repulsive sight; at how she wiggled and purred in glee. "Wash off. Now," he grumbled, his tone harsher than intended

Khrynia's wings stopped their flutter, her purr dying out as her gaze narrowed. "Now? Right now?"

"Yes. Now," Doravar's growl left no room for argument.

The light in Khrynia's eyes dimmed, her expression hardening as she took in his seriousness. The joy that had once lit her features was gone, replaced by a mask of well-groomed indifference.

"Very well, but you will join me. I'm not the only one soiled by this union."

Her words hung in the air between them, far too well-chosen to elicit immediate response. Doravar attempted to lift a forepaw in a friendly offering to bide her time, but Khrynia moved first by pushing herself up with unexpected agility. Then, she took flight, leaving a trail of their mating fluids in her wake to paint the grass with the shameful aftermath of Doravar's moment of weakness.

The silence of the clearing brought him no peace; no relief. The scent of their mating still lingered in the air with its nauseating and delightful notes alike.

A heavy sigh escaped Doravar's lips as he unfurled his wings and took after Khrynia, aware of where she would make her stop. She had it right. He couldn't return while still wearing her scent.

And he couldn't leave this matter unresolved either.

***End of chapter 1***

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