The chill that came from the outside tickled up her long, lean calves. It skirted up the insides of her thighs and kisses the smooth folds of her entry. She shuddered visibly, burrowing her face further into her folded arms trying to melt deeper into the haze that the hot spring’s steam elicited. The soak had left her heavy, as if she had been fighting through molasses combined with an penetrative heat that eased her tired muscles. One of the many things that made her appreciate when he carted her away into the mountains as he did.

All at once the drowsy haze made her plunge deeper into the trance that borderlined sleep and meditation. So much so, that she didn’t register the vibrations of the heavy footsteps that rattled the loose rocks on the spring bed and the cause the small echoes through her body.

When he visited her, he appraised her as he always did. The dark porcelain fascinated him more than she’d ever know. His property, his things, his trinkets were all pristine and flawless; they held no mar to their surface or any flaw, but not she. She wore scars on her back blended with the white ink of the markings that he seen others of the militia done. They were proud reminders and accomplishments of her prowess, her perseverance and steady hands to protect her life as well as sacrifice it for others. A quality he had witness first hand and it made his fixation, his adoration for her that much more profound. Yet, here she was. His prize. His treasure. His.

Peaceful and lulled to a half-sleep, she soon was roused by the hot, scalding breath that took the place of the chill that had traced along her thighs. The scent betwixt her legs waft and his nostrils pulled in drawing inhales the sweet honeycomb that clung to her skin. Hot pits along his snout brushed across the muscles of her calves, riding up to the naked curve of her buttocks. A low grumble rattled from the dense cage of his chest as her head turned to one side and her hips shuffled. Soft murmurs echoing the displeasure of being woken up. Seeing as she made no move to escape him -- not that she ever could -- his maw parted, teeth grasping the generous, yielding flesh of her bottom for a small nip that evoke a delicious, tiny noise he ached to hear from her. His tongue spliced to a fork quality, letting each of the two tips slip across the surface of her round, rear end, whilst his nose traveled the length of her back. It came back down as another of her hidden sounds escaped, muffled by her arms, sputtering into a low moan. The tip of nose nuzzled into the apex of her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs a little wider even though she would have all too voluntarily. “Djien..” The small whisper came from above, ignored in favor for his long, serpentine tongue to slither out, to tease the surface of her lush, quivering quim. She was already wet. Always so wet for me.. His maw pushed closer so he could taste, just lap at her in a slow and lurid way, till her knees were drawing up. Hips backing into his jaws and grinding the seeping, tender petals onto his tongue when he wouldn’t do it the way he knew she liked. The way that made her thighs quiver and her tummy clench. He let her have her way for now. The succulent tang of her feminine fluids was enough to placate him, enjoying the relaxed sprawl she was in shift into something more desperate, trying to inconspicuously shift in a way that his tongue nestled against her clitoris, the rosy bud peeking. Mercifully, he cocked his head off to the side and let his tongue plunge into her depths swiftly, briefly. Just to see her toes curls and her hands unfold, beginning to press flat into the rocks she laid upon. The flexibility in the appendage was unfathomable and he worked magic with it, folding in such a way that stimulated the roof of walls with expert precision, bringing her to a wondrous height. Only to take it from her, drawing his tongue away. A raspy whine escaped her when he brushes his tongue up the clef of her ass, nose running up the length of her spine so he could nuzzle down into her nape.

A fussy noise showed her fret and she tried to deny him the giggle that escaped her when his excessive breath huffed, tusling her short hair. “Bad dragon..” She muttered, peeking the stony blue eye open at him as he reverted to his glamour, the shape she knew with the hair that spilled just over his shoulder and onto hers, compact but lengthy enough to engulf her in his equally nude embrace and more than strong enough to handle her. “Perhaps I am, but you are certainly a naughty little elf girl..” Her features not given the opportunity to hide. His arms winded under hers, one taking her by the chin to force her to turn her gorgeous expression towards him. His hips eclipsed hers and he ground himself against her -- before having been sheathed, but he was hard and wanting -- the weight of him nestling himself between her buttocks. “..voluntarily enjoying the molestations of such a beast, what would your subordinates say? To see their beloved captain like this.. Breathing heavy, perspiring with need and sopping wet like a simpering maiden awaiting to be taken from behind--needing it.” She whimpered, knees anchoring, trying to encourage him to slip a little lower by the bulbuous head of his cock brushed the tight rings of anus instead, making her shudder in apprehension. “Because you do.. don’t you, little elf?”
Her nails pressed into the steel that was his skin, not answering.
“Hm?” The tone insistent, knowing well she would not deny him.
Her head bobbed genty. He breathed a low purr into her ear. “Tell me.”
“I need it--” His fingers tightened punitively at her jaw, “What?”‘
“I need it, Master..!”
His grip stayed, but his other hand under the brunt of her nails reached between them to guide the turgid length. She settled fro grasping at his forearm, her free hand pressed to the ground while her hips nestled back, trying to brush her folds against his head.
“What do you need, tej’ara?”
This time she did not deny him, the answer still soft, bashful with the warrior’s pride he stripped from her time and time again. “I need you to take me, Master.”

Deciding not to prolong such a eager request, he let himself sink into the hot, awaiting depths. Like liquid velvet, she squeezed in around him, adjusting and accommodating him as if so unfamiliar when he took her so religiously.  “..oohh..” She moaned loosely, pursing her lips when his mouth came in and swallowing the delirious sound. The balls of her feet pushed into the ground as he rode the fluid thrust, growling, greedily swallowing each of those sounds when his hips brushed into hers. Not giving a moment’s reprieve, his hips draw back, dragging the slight curve to him along her walls and thrusting his way back into her.

Clawed fingertips began to press into the pretty lines of her skin, her cheeks as he held her face in place with his. His eyes were narrowed slits of emerald fire, glaring as he greedily took in her expression. His hips were firm and percise with skewering the depths of her walls, stretching her with each jostling impact til he recognized the needy little elf that he knew in those moments. Moments when the blue of her left eye and the rum-colored hazel of her right eye deepened; the former reaching a brilliant oceanic grey and the latter like molten molasses. He felt the muscle of her thighs tighten up and her lips drew further apart in front of his very eyes, she was rasped more than she breathed and he could feel how close she was. Taste it on his tongue.

He felt her tightened, squeeze hungrily around him in a way that almost challenged his greedy, but it would never reach that same depth. Never. From her, it was an irrevocable need; he’d become everything to her as he was always was, but more so now where he dangled all of her desires on a thread. Slippery ‘slqch’es began to fill their den with each passing moment as did the fervent sounds of her quivering moans. Not too long before the soft pleads stammer to him; the inquiry for permission. There was a hard, almost cruelty in his eyes as he regarded her, the puffs of his breath rushing over her face, demanding more. To know what he was to her. How much he was to her. There, she rushed to answer. Rushed to acknowledge him, his superiority:
“You’re my love, my mein’la, my master, my keeper, my god--” A low snarl pushed into her scalp as he granted her it, crumbling into the depths of pleasure with her.