It was unfair.
She was the Dragon Matriarch. Three hundred soldiers answered to her. Her name was spoken with fear and respect across the domain. There were those who swore she could stand against the old gods and not break.
But right now she was a mess on a human's bed.
Luke had taken her to the edge so many times she had lost the count. Each time the climax gathered, tight and blinding, he stole it.
Each time he left her shaking and empty. Sweat covered her from throat to thighs. Her mouth hung open. Her cunt ached, swollen and dripping, so wet the sheets under her hips were dark with it.
His legs hooked around her ankles and kept her spread.
There was no closing them.
His left hand worked her breast, rolling the small, oversensitive nipple between finger and thumb until the sting and the pleasure braided together.
His right hand was worse. Two thick fingers pumped into her without mercy, curling, dragging, pulling more slick out of her with every stroke.
