The lava cracks became distinct and individual. She could see the heat patterns in the air. She could see the individual scale formations on the dead dragon's body from fifty meters away.
She was becoming something.
Not a dragon. Not something nonhuman. But not entirely what she had been. A dragon slayer who had been given the dragon.
"Master—" she gasped. The word came easier now. Not a submission. A recognition. He had given her this. He was holding her through it. His cock in her body was not just fucking — it was anchoring her to the world while the fire tried to burn her loose from it. "Master— what are you— what is happening to me—"
PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAAANGHH~!! HNGHH~!!"
