Touch of Flame

Malachi was ensnared in a cloud of new emotions, sprawled in bed while Ravina, surrendered to sleep beside him. A storm of confusion brewed within him. Earlier, he had anticipated an uncontrollable surge from his dragon as they made love, a wave of ferocity that would seize control. Yet, that did not occur.

Instead, it was as if a new facet of his being had emerged, one that craved the mastery, the utter dominance over each sensation. He yearned to etch every gasp, every shudder of their union into the depths of his memory. 

His dragon didn’t thrash in blind passion; it relished the intimate dance, savoring each exchange of heated whispers and fervent caresses. He had feared an abrupt release, a finale that would mar their initial union, but his self-restraint had proven him wrong. Maybe, he mused, it was the mystical bond of their mating that endowed him with this newfound restraint. 

With an innate curiosity, he elevated his arm, summoning the dormant power within him to initiate a partial transformation. With his command, obsidian scales cascaded down his arm, their ebony sheen more pronounced than ever. The ability to half-shift was a rare feat, currently only mastered by Nazneen through rigorous training. Yet, his newfound ability felt as natural as breathing, another gift of their sacred mating.

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He rose from their warm bed, wanting to make her breakfast himself this special morning. Descending to the first floor, he encountered Nako and Mara, promptly granting them a well-deserved day of respite. He then ventured into the kitchen, his focus centering on crafting a breakfast befitting his queen.

His attention was solely confined to his culinary task, and it wasn’t until Ravina’s soft footsteps echoed nearby that he became aware of her presence. She lingered at the kitchen’s entrance, cocooned in a silken white robe that clung to her enticingly. Her smile, radiant as the dawn, bewitched him as she leaned against the doorframe, her gaze roaming leisurely over him.

“I would have brought breakfast upstairs,” he said.

“I know,” she said, her smile blooming wider. “I wanted to watch you cook.”

Her gaze, potent with desire, made him wonder if the dragon’s blood ignited more than just her stamina. He suppressed an amused smile, enjoying this new development.

She yawned and stretched her limbs. “I feel so… strong,” she declared, her stride echoing her words as she ventured deeper into the kitchen. With each stride, the slit of her robe would momentarily part, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the intricate ink that adorned her skin. 

She settled onto a stool near the counter, her presence evoking memories of her early days in his home, of her charmingly clumsy attempts at cooking.

Ravina showed no hesitation in sneaking bites from the cooking dishes. “Don’t!” he reprimanded, but she simply shrugged.

“I’ve learned that it tastes better straight from the pan or pot,” she countered. 

Malachi was momentarily taken aback. That was precisely what his sister used to say. Perhaps there was some truth to the claim after all. He surrendered to her whim and set the pot down before her. “Don’t burn yourself,” he cautioned.

She responded with an anticipatory smile, a spoon already in her hand. The porridge he had lovingly crafted met her approval instantly, a moan of delight slipping past her lips. “Mmm… I’d forgotten how well you cook,” she murmured, offering him a spoonful, which he graciously accepted.

Her appetite remained unhindered until a sudden pause. “I’m going to get fat. I already have,” she mused aloud, her hand wandering down her body in exploration. Tracing her stomach, thighs, and her breasts, she sighed. “I feel bigger.”

Indeed, he silently concurred, his mind wandering to the enticing memory of her curves filling his palms. Her discerning gaze caught him admiring her, leading her hand to gently trace the contour of her other breast. Her fingers shaping her form, and then lightly grazing the peak straining against her robe. His jaw clenched, desire surging through him as he watched her self-indulgent display.

Her amused smile confirmed she noticed his reaction. “You seem hungry for something else,” she teased.

“You have no idea,” he responded, his voice husky, his gaze ensnared by her teasing touch. The air bristled with her sweet scent, signaling her mounting excitement.

“I think I do. I’m offering breakfast too,” she responded, her tone ripe with suggestion.

That was the last straw. Rising from his seat, he decided to partake in her offered ‘breakfast.’ His predator’s prowl around the table elicited a gasp from her, her lips parting in anticipation, her heart thundering in her chest. She swiveled in her seat, her back against the counter. 

Expectation flickered in her eyes as she spread her legs, an invitation for him to step between them. The knowing smile playing on her lips told him she was fully aware of the provocation she wielded. Grasping her chin, he compelled her head to tilt back, leaning in to claim her lips. The intoxicating moan that resonated against him ignited a powerful urge to take her to bed once more, an urge amplified as her legs encircled his waist.

His hand found its way beneath her robe, tracing the curves of her bottom and pulling her flush against his hardness. Her subsequent moan was a siren’s call, prompting her to arch against him, a silent plea for his touch. He complied without a moment’s delay, his eager hands exploring the fullness of her breasts, eliciting a soft gasp from her.

His hand journeyed further beneath her robe, kneading, pinching, and tugging, each motion rewarded with her shivers and whimpers. She took his hand, leading it from her breasts to the heat between her legs. She was already so wet for him, and she quivered as he ran his finger through her swollen folds. 

Now he wanted her to touch him. Guiding her hand, he savored the feel of her slender fingers coiling around his engorged arousal. A primal growl escaped him as she took hold of him, her delicate touch alternating between gentle exploration and firm stroking. She knew just how to tease him, her thumb rubbing his sensitive tip just enough to make him shudder.

It was enough now! He removed her hand, undid his robe, and pulled her body closer to the edge of the chair before plunging into her without warning.

Ravina cried out, her legs tightening around him, her thighs imprisoning him. Her nails found their way into his shoulders as he began to move, wanting to feel the wet heat of her, to feel her wrapped around him so deliciously. 

He drove his hips into hers with fervor, the chair protesting beneath them, its movements jostling her against the table and causing everything atop it to shake. 

Ravina held onto him, her face buried in between his shoulder and neck, sometimes breathless and then gasping until she was clenching around him, quivering, and he knew she was close to her release. 

He was on the edge too, quickening his pace until his body grew taught with extreme pleasure and her own release pushed him over the edge as she spasmed around him.