Chapter 19 The Dragon's Nest
Ysara POV
Tharion’s arms were bare and scorching, solid around me as the world rushed past in a blur of moonlit trees and cold mountain air. The ground fell away beneath us, and my stomach flipped with the strange, dizzying thrill of being carried like this. Claimed, and protected. Taken somewhere no one else could reach.
I buried my face against his chest and inhaled. Smoke. Pine. Cinnamon? Something ancient and wild that made my blood hum. When he banked sharply, I gasped and looked up.
A cliff rose out of the forest like the spine of the earth itself, sheer and brutal and impossible to climb. Halfway up, a massive hollow yawned in the stone, dark and hidden, the entrance jagged and unmistakably deliberate.
“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s your nest.”
Tharion’s arms tightened. “Yes.”
It could only be reached by flight. No road. No trail. No way in unless you had wings. Fucking genius. I felt a flicker of safety spark in my chest, quickly followed by a slow, dangerous warmth pooling low in my belly.
Oh no. Heat still? It did last days, apparently.
My brain, traitorous and unhelpful, immediately spiraled.
What if I’m already pregnant? Is it babies? Pups? Hatchlings? A tiny faeling? Is that even what fae kids are called? Gods, I have so much to learn. Can a ravelyn carry dragon babies? Omg what if its an egg? I pictured myself squatting over a bed and birthing a massive egg.
I shuddered. Get your brain under control Ysa.
I shifted against him, suddenly acutely aware of his bare upper half. His biceps flexed with every movement, thick and powerful, corded with muscle earned the hard way. My mouth went dry. Bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts. I bet he can do incredible things with these arms.
Without thinking, I lifted my head, brushed my tongue against his collarbone, and murmured, “You taste amazing.”
The second the words left my mouth, reality crashed back in.
“Oh my gods, I am so sorry, I did not mean..”
Tharion growled. It was low, deep, and possessive. He shuddered midair, and his wings stuttered for half a beat before he steadied us again. “Almost there, my Ravelyn,” he said, his voice rough. “I can smell your desire. I live to serve.”
I died. I absolutely died. So fucking HOT. What is even happening. I felt like I needed to fan my damn face. I was absolutely not strong enough for this.
We landed at the cave mouth, his boots hitting stone with controlled force. He set me down gently, as if I were something fragile despite the chaos burning under my skin.
His chest puffed slightly as he gestured inward. “This is my nest. Yours now. Ours.”
Something inside me cracked.
“You are safe here,” he added quietly. “No one will make you cry.”
And that was it. I broke. Tears spilled down my face without warning, and my hands curling into fists as a sob tore out of me. Tharion froze, full panic flashing across his face.
“My queen, I...did I harm you? Are you in pain?”
I laughed through the tears, breathless and wrecked.
“No...no... I’m just… I’m a lot. Kinda crazy. Ok alot. I’m sorry. I cry when I’m overwhelmed. And when I’m happy. And when I’m horny. It’s very inconvenient.”
He stared at me, clearly at a loss. Then, slowly and carefully, he smiled.
“I shall love you even if you are mad,” he said solemnly. “My queen.”
I snorted. “The Mad Queen and her monsters. How poetic."
His grin turned wicked. “Poetic indeed.”
Inside the cave was… incredible. Not a lair. A home.
There was a bed built into the stone with thick furs and blankets. A sturdy table. Chairs carved from fallen wood. Lanterns. Carefully stacked supplies. A place made by someone who had learned to survive alone, but had still chosen comfort.
“No kitchen?” I teased.
“There is a pit for waste,” he said earnestly, “and I cook meat on the flat stones with my fire.”
I beamed. “Perfect.”
At the foot of the bed sat a massive ornate wooden chest. Tharion knelt, pulled a key from a cord around his neck, and opened it.
Gold spilled out like sunlight. Coins. Jewels. Ancient pieces etched with runes and history. Treasure!! He was a dragon AND he had treasure. This was the best day of my life. I wonder what other types of magical creatures there were. He told me stories as he lifted the pieces to show me, quiet tales of battles fought, people protected, and rewards given freely. No cruelty. No greed.
My chest ached.
“You’re a beautiful soul, Tharion,” I whispered.
He straightened, preening just a little. “Thank you, my queen.”
The heat crested. Ohhh gods have mercy. My scent thickened in the air, sweet and desperate and undeniable.
Tharion’s eyes changed. His dragon surfaced immediately, his pupils slitting, and power rolling off him in waves.
"My queen," the dragon rumbled. "I am Axis. Are you in need of service? Your scent is painfully obvious and my human refuses to make the first move."
My knees nearly gave out.
“Pleasure to meet you, Axis,” I said softly. “And yes. Very much so, actually.”
His eyes shifted back. Tharion was flushed and breathing hard. “Forgive me, my queen.”
“No apologies necessary,” I murmured, tugging him toward the bed. “Come here, my dragon.”
He lifted me effortlessly and tossed me onto the furs. I let out a surprised laugh, and immediately began to remove my jeans and sweater. I moved slowly, on purpose. When I was finally completely bare, I heard my dragon suck in a breath. He was staring, totally transfixed. I giggled. "Earth to my dragon. Your turn. Clothes off now!"
He didn't answer right away. He just stared at me like I was the most dangerous treasure he’d ever found.
And I smiled, utterly undone by him already.
Tharion’s hands moved to the ties of his trousers with deliberate care, the leather cords loosening under his fingers. He pushed the fabric down his powerful thighs and stepped free, letting the garment fall aside. His cock sprang into view, thick and proud. It was ridged faintly along the underside with subtle draconic scales, the head flushed dark and already glistening.
I stared, and my breath caught, unable to look away. The sheer size of him made my mouth go dry and my core clench in anticipation. He caught my gaze and a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
“How is the view, my queen?” he asked, his voice low and rough with satisfaction.
I growled softly in response, the sound more instinct than thought, raw need rising in my throat. His grin sharpened. He crossed the distance in two strides, climbing onto the bed and settling above me, his wings half-furled, and the heat of his body enveloping mine. One hand braced beside my head; the other guided his cock to my entrance.
Then he thrust, slowly at first, the thick head parting my slick folds, stretching me and preparing me for his girth. My back arched, and a sharp gasp escaped me as he sank deeper, filling my tight, wet heat until he was seated fully inside me.
The stretch burned so fucking sweetly. I felt every ridge, and every vein. It was the perfect, overwhelming fullness of him claiming me completely.
He lowered his head slowly. His breath ghosted across my cheek, warm and scented with smoke and pine. Then, very gently, he pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth, a kiss so soft it stole the air from my lungs.
“Does this feel good, my queen?” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and resonant, the words vibrating through me. His hand slid up my side, his palm broad and warm, tracing the curve of my ribcage with exquisite care. “Tell me.”
I turned my face toward his, brushing my lips along the sharp line of his jaw. My voice came out husky, and edged with mischief. “They said you’d hurt me,” I whispered, letting the words hang between us.
“That you were vicious. A monster in dragon skin.”
I dragged my nails lightly down his back, just hard enough to make him shiver. “Show me what a dragon truly is.”
A low rumble rolled through his chest, half growl, half laughter. He shifted, settling more of his weight against me without crushing me, and the heat of him enveloped me like a living flame. One hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair, while the other slipped beneath my knee, lifting my leg higher around his hip. The new angle pressed him deeper inside me, the thick ridge along the underside of his shaft dragging against my front wall in a way that made my breath stall. Oh my gods this was the best sex I had ever experienced.
Dragon 1
Asshole guys 0
“They were wrong,” he said quietly, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I would sooner tear my own wings from my back than cause you pain.”
He rolled his hips in a languid circle, the movement grinding the base of his cock against my clit. Pleasure sparked through me sharply. I arched beneath him, and dug my fingers into his shoulders. “But I will show you everything I am. Every part of the dragon that belongs to you.”
He began to move again in slow, measured thrusts that allowed me to feel every inch of him, every subtle ridge, every pulse of heat. Each withdrawal dragged a whimper from my throat; each return filled me so completely I could scarcely draw breath. His mouth found the sensitive spot beneath my jaw, kissing it, then nipping lightly, the barest scrape of teeth that sent lightning down my spine.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
I obeyed. His eyes had shifted fully to dragon, vertical pupils blown wide, gold flecked with molten amber. The sight should have frightened me. Instead it made my inner walls flutter around him, slick and eager.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, the word reverent. “My fierce, perfect queen.” Another deep, rolling thrust. “Does it feel good when I move like this?” He angled his hips, grinding against that perfect spot inside me until my vision starred.
“Yes, oh my fucking gods” The words broke into a moan. “There...gods, right there.”
He held the rhythm, steady and unrelenting, watching my face with fierce concentration as though memorizing every flicker of pleasure. One hand slid down to cup my breast, and his thumb circled the nipple with agonizing slowness.
“They told you I was vicious,” he said, his voice a low rasp against my throat. “Did they tell you I would devour you?” He sucked lightly at my pulse point, then soothed the spot with his tongue. “They were half right.” His hips snapped forward, harder, and deeper.
“I will devour you, Ysara. Every sigh. Every shudder. Every drop of pleasure you give me.” Another punishing thrust. “And I will give it back a thousandfold.”
I arched beneath him, my nails scoring his back, and my legs tightening around his waist. “Then do it,” I challenged breathlessly. “Devour me. Show me how a dragon claims what’s his.”
His control snapped, not violently, but with exquisite precision. He surged forward, burying himself to the hilt, the impact stealing my breath. Then he set a punishing rhythm, each stroke devastating, the ridges along his shaft dragging against every sensitive place inside me. His mouth claimed mine in a kiss that was more conquest than caress, teeth and tongue and heat.
Then he lowered his head. His breath was hot against the side of my throat, and a low rumble vibrated through his chest into mine.
“Ysara,” he rasped, his voice frayed with strain. “My queen… my heart.”