Chapter 84: Making a Man (Part 2)

Selene’s private chambers were warmer than the hallway, lit by low crystal lamps that cast everything in amber and shadow. Heavy curtains blocked the windows. The air smelled of expensive incense and something faintly metallic underneath, like warm scales.

The moment the door sealed, she stopped being the polished hostess.

She turned, pressed Arthur back against the wood, and kissed him with deliberate control. Her lips were cool at first, then warmer as she deepened it.

One hand braced beside his head. The other slid under his tunic, palm flat against his stomach, sliding upward with unhurried confidence. The fine emerald scales along her skin caught the light whenever she moved.

"You’re carrying too much tension in your shoulders," she murmured against his mouth. "People who live like that break in interesting ways. I prefer to take them apart properly first."

Arthur didn’t answer. He let her set the pace.

Selene pulled his tunic over his head and dropped it aside.

Her slit pupils expanded as she looked over the faint scars across his torso—old academy damage, elemental backlash, the kind of marks that didn’t come from comfortable sparring.

She traced one with a single sharp nail, then leaned in and bit lightly at the hinge of his jaw.

"Sit," she said, nodding toward the low, wide couch near the fire.

Arthur sat.

Selene unfastened her silk dress with practiced ease. It slid down her body and pooled at her feet.

Underneath she wore nothing. Her body was lean and elegant, covered in fine iridescent scales that thickened slightly along her hips, the outer curves of her breasts, and the length of her thighs.

A long, flexible tail curled behind her, the tip flicking once with quiet interest. Her breasts were full and high, nipples dark against the green-tinted skin.

She crossed the space, straddled his thighs, and kissed him again while her hands worked open his trousers. When she freed his cock, she made a low, approving sound in her throat and wrapped cool, scaled fingers around him.

"Already hard," she observed. "Good. I dislike doing all the work of convincing."

She stroked him slowly, base to tip, thumb spreading the bead of wetness at the head. Her grip was firm, confident, the slight texture of her scales adding a sensation that made Arthur’s breath catch.

She watched his face the entire time, adjusting pressure and speed with professional precision whenever his expression shifted.

When she finally slid off his lap and sank to her knees between his legs, she did it without ceremony.

Selene took him into her mouth in one smooth motion, sinking down until her lips met her fist.

The inside of her mouth was hotter than expected, tongue pressing firmly along the underside as she began to move. She didn’t rush.

She worked him with steady, wet strokes, occasionally pulling off just long enough to lick a slow stripe from base to tip before taking him deep again.

One hand cupped and rolled his balls with careful pressure. The other rested on his thigh, nails pricking lightly whenever he twitched.

Arthur’s head tipped back against the couch. His fingers threaded into her dark hair, not forcing, just holding.

Selene hummed around him in approval and took him deeper, throat relaxing until her nose brushed his stomach.

She held there for a long second, swallowing around him, then pulled back with a wet sound and looked up.

"You’re quieter than most," she said, voice slightly rough. "I can’t tell if you’re disciplined or just stubborn."

"Both," Arthur managed.

She smiled, sharp and pleased, and went back down.

She sucked him with focused intensity, varying the rhythm—slow and deep, then faster and shallower, tongue working constantly.

Every time his hips started to lift, she pressed him back down with a hand on his stomach and kept control.

The wet sounds of her mouth filled the quiet room. Arthur’s breathing grew rougher. The tension she had commented on earlier was burning down into something hotter and narrower.

When she finally pulled off, a thin string of saliva connected her lower lip to the head of his cock for a second before breaking.

She stood, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and climbed back onto his lap.

"I think that’s enough patience," she said.

She reached down, guided him to her entrance, and sank onto his cock in one continuous motion.

Both of them exhaled hard.

Selene was tight and slick and slightly cooler inside than a human woman, the fine texture of her inner walls adding a subtle friction that made

Arthur’s fingers dig into her hips. She took a moment to adjust, eyes half-lidded, then began to move.

Slow at first—rolling her hips in deep, deliberate circles that kept him buried. Then longer strokes, lifting almost all the way off before dropping back down with a wet, heavy sound.

She braced her hands on his shoulders and fucked him with professional confidence, pace steady, angle precise.

Every few thrusts she clenched around him deliberately, watching his reaction with open satisfaction. Her tail curled around his calf, holding on.

The scales along her breasts and stomach shimmered with sweat and firelight as she moved.

"There," she murmured when his breath hitched. "That’s better. Stop thinking about whatever you’re usually thinking about. Just take it."

Arthur’s hands slid up her back, then down to grip her ass, helping her drop harder onto him. Selene’s rhythm stuttered for the first time.

A low, genuine sound slipped out of her throat. She leaned in and kissed him again, messier now, while she rode him with increasing force. The couch creaked under them.

The wet slap of skin on skin filled the space between their breathing.

She came first—quietly, with her forehead pressed to his and her body locking tight around his cock in strong, rhythmic pulses.

The way she clenched dragged a rough sound out of Arthur. He held her through it, thrusting up to meet her until the spasms began to fade.

Selene didn’t stop moving.

She lifted her head, eyes dark and intent, and started riding him again with shorter, harder strokes, chasing the next peak for both of them.

Arthur sat forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and drove up into her with more force. The change in angle made her gasp. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her tail tightened around his leg.

"Yes," she breathed. "Like that—don’t you dare slow down—"

Arthur fucked her through the building tension, grip tight on her hip, the other hand tangled in her hair.

Selene’s controlled professionalism was fraying into something rawer. Her moans came freer now, low and unbroken, every time he bottomed out.

The fine scales along her thighs scraped lightly against his skin with every movement.

He could feel himself getting close.

Selene clearly felt it too. She clenched around him deliberately and leaned in until her lips brushed his ear.

"Inside," she said, voice rough. "I want to feel it."

Arthur’s rhythm turned short and hard. He drove up into her one last time and came with a low, guttural sound, spilling deep while she held herself down on him and rolled her hips through every pulse.

The heat of it pulled a final shiver out of her. She stayed seated on his cock afterward, breathing hard, forehead resting against his temple.

For a long moment neither of them moved.

Then Selene lifted her head just enough to look at him, a slow, satisfied smile curving her mouth. She didn’t pull off. Instead she rolled her hips once, deliberately, feeling him still half-hard inside her.

"We’re not finished," she said quietly. "You paid for the night. I intend to make sure you get your money’s worth."

She kissed him again—slower this time—and started moving once more, steady and purposeful, keeping him buried as the heat between them built a second time.

Outside, the Silk and Scale continued its quiet, expensive night.

Inside the private chamber, Selene rode him with professional focus and personal interest, and Arthur let the rest of the mission wait until morning.