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Stelle weaved her way through the narrow gaps between crowds of rowdy patrons, her attention singularly focused on maintaining balance on the tray of drinks she was carrying. In all honesty, Stelle would have preferred taking a commission that involved hitting something with her bat over having to play waitress at Penacony’s infamous World’s End bar, but money was money and beggars could not be choosers. So, despite what her better judgement might have been telling her, she’d gone and pushed aside any reservations about working for the Masked Fool’s and picked up the gig.
The truth was that there had been no better options- time was running out and she really, really, needed that new five star character.
She shouldn’t have been surprised that the onboarding process for the job was about as chaotic as anything one could expect from The Fools. Within minutes of her arrival, she’d been suited up in her uniform and given a single page explainer on the nuances of waitressing with all of thirty seconds to read it before she had been shoved out onto the floor to start. Between balancing her tray and dodging the occasional wayward hand heading directly towards her bum, Stelle quickly developed a newfound respect for the people that did this on the regular, as only an hour in and her nerves had already started to feel a little fried.
Nevermind that the bar’s uniform was a little more, er, revealing, than what she was normally used to.
“Is this really what your waiters always have to wear?” Stelle asked self-consciously as she’d tugged down on any scrap of spare coverage she could find.
“Oh no, tonight’s a special themed night,” The masked Maitre D’ had giggled before simply waving her off.
Nothing else about the bar’s decor suggested there was a theme for the night, but said ‘theme’ was the reason that the fluffy black bunny ears perched atop her head kept flopping down in front of her eyes and causing more than a few incidents involving spilt drinks. Any other mishaps were the result of her jumping out of her skin every time someone had groped a feel of the cute little cottontail that sat just above her tailbone. At least, she thought with some relief, the glossy black leotard she wore to complete the unorthodox uniform turned out to be practically waterproof, hiding all manner of bartending sins.
It was fine , she told herself. It was only for one night, after all, and then she’d finally have her hands on that sweet new character and it would have all been worth it in the end.
“Excuse me, coming through,” She sang out as she squeezed between tables, her eyes flashing up to the champagne flutes trembling precariously on her tray as she held it high above her head.
Between shifting her focus from her drinks tray and staying upright as she navigated the tight gaps in the bar, Stelle had barely taken notice of the faces of The Fools present. She had no idea if she had served a person once or ten times, and the only acknowledgement she gave was when someone would attempt to tuck a tip into her garter before she left. They were all strangers, and the chances they knew her name was about as likely as her knowing theirs .
So it was a shock when she heard it coming from across the bar.
“-Stelle!?”
A familiar voice called out from above the cacophonous music, sounding strained with tension. She almost forgot herself as she spun around to find the source, her eyes widening as she found an unexpected visitor standing in the entryway of World’s End.
“Dan Heng?” She bleated in surprise.
Dan Heng seemed to have frozen in place, his shoulders bunched tight around his ears, hands curled stiffly at his sides. His eyes, however, were singularly focused on her, and she could see the way his gaze darted from left to right, up and then down, taking in every inch of her dressed up in all her bunny suited glory.
“What are you wearing?” He wheezed through gritted teeth, and if it weren’t for the way his ears had turned a torrid shade of red, Stelle might have mistook his reedy tone for fury.
Stelle looked down at herself and stifled the sense of embarrassment that had been simmering in her gut all night, her voice meek as she admitted, “It’s my… uniform?”
In the span of a single breath, Dan Heng surged forward and cleared the space between them far quicker than any normal human could have managed, knocking past squawking revelers with no remorse. Stelle barely had a chance to register what was happening before she felt his hand wrap around her forearm, fingers curled in a hold that was tight enough to force a wince.
He pulled, jolting her forward. Stelle gasped as she struggled to keep upright, and she watched as the delicate champagne flutes she had been so diligently balancing wobbled violently from the sharp movement.
“Wait, Dan Heng–!”
Another tug sent her forward with a lurch, and the flutes followed, toppling straight over the edge of her tray. The sound of glass shattering was accompanied by the cold splash of champagne against her bare legs, and more than a dozen pairs of mischievous eyes turned in their direction to watch the spectacle taking place before them. Stelle fumbled out an apology as Dan Heng continued to forcefully drag her away, the jeers and catcalls that followed them out the door making her ears burn.
“What the heck, man!” She said, cringing as she walked right over broken glass and sticky vinyl floors.
Stelle knew there was no point putting up a fight when Dan Heng had worked himself up into a mood, and if the horns that were starting to sprout from the top of his head were any indication, he was definitely in a mood. So she conceded defeat and let him lead her outside onto the bright streets of Penacony, leaving behind the boisterous sounds of the bar as the heavy doors swung shut behind them. The security guard barely spared a disinterested glance at them when Dan Heng turned sharply to take her down the unlit alleyway that flanked World’s End, while Stelle hobbled along in her too-high heels.
“Hey, hey-! Slow down buddy,” She huffed, giving her captive wrist a tug, “I’m gonna break an ankle at this speed.”
Dan Heng gave no verbal indication that he had heard her, but his pace slowed enough that Stelle no longer felt that she was one wrong move away from a visit to the infirmary.
It was only once they were far enough away from the main street that Dan Heng abruptly spun on the spot, releasing her wrist in favour of crowding over her until she was forced back against the brick facade. His palms fell flat against the wall, caging her in between his arms and pinning her down with the fiery teal glare of one very irritated Vidyadharan man.
Gone was any pretense of Dan Heng’s preferred human visage as the tips of his pointed ears poked out from the lengths of his dark hair to match the shimmering, draconic antlers that grew from his crown. He really was unfairly pretty in his true form, Stelle thought, even when he stared her down with a look she could only describe as withering disappointment.
“What,” Dan Heng began with a low rumble, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “In the Aeons are you doing ?”
“O-oh, well… you know, I just thought I’d get a side hustle, make some extra pocket money..,” Stelle laughed awkwardly. She felt her cheeks warm at his line of questioning, the puddle of embarrassment she had been forcing back suddenly swelling into an ocean.
“Stelle.”
“I mean, there’s this game ,” She hedged, unable to meet his gaze. “And there’s this character, but I already lost the fifty-fifty and the banner ends in four days… eh-heh. ”
It nearly caused her physical pain to spare him a guilty sideways glance after her admission, only to find Dan Heng looking just as baffled, his earlier anger dissipating into utter confusion. His eyebrows disappeared beneath his fringe in disbelief, but Stelle figured now was not the time to give him an opportunity to pass judgement on her life choices.
“I just really need the gacha funds, okay?” She pressed forward in a rush, her eyes darting to the side once more. “Anyway, now you know, so you can let me go and I can get back to work before they decide to dock my pay.”
Stelle peeled her back off of the wall, but Dan Heng would not budge. His hands remained firmly planted beside herl, leaving her with no room to squeeze out and escape. She barely managed to bite back a sigh, the humiliation she felt over admitting the truth quickly turning into frustration at his continued stubbornness.
“Come on, let up,” She muttered, hugging her damp serving tray close to her chest. Seconds passed in tense silence as she waited, but still he refused to move.
If he wanted to play these games, that was fine, Stelle could play too.
She stared obstinately at the ground between their feet, neither willing to face up to her own foolishness or give him the satisfaction of eye contact. The clock continued to tick through the stalemate, leaving Stelle to mutter under her breath about her losing money and the chances of getting her character before the banner ended. She absently watched as his right foot stepped forward to fill the gap between her own, the pressure of his leg forcing her back.
Her thoughts came to a grinding halt with the firm curl of his fingers around the base of her neck.
“Dan Heng? Wait, wha–!”
His hand urged her to lift her head, capturing her lips in a kiss so intense that it nearly had her losing her footing. Her tray slipped from her slack fingers, clattering to the cobblestones, as his tongue laid claim to her mouth, and her hands instinctively came up to Dan Heng’s chest. She dithered there, unsure if she wanted to pull him closer or push him away, yet he tore the decision from her before she could make it, breaking the kiss just as quickly as he had started it.
Stelle shivered as his thumb gently caressed her chin, and any and all thoughts rapidly dissolved to mush under the heated gaze of his teal eyes.
"Gacha money," He scoffed quietly. "Whatever. I don't want to encourage your dumb choices, but you’ve committed yourself to it… you should finish this commission of yours."
Still caught in a stupor from the unexpected kiss, Stelle replied in a daze, "Wait, really? You're not mad?"
"Oh, I'm mad," Dan Heng corrected her.
His fingers brushed along her jaw, the back of his pointed nails stroking over soft skin. A shiver passed down Stelle's spine as he continued past the shell of her ear, twisting the strands of her grey hair around his fingers and holding her in place as he leaned down to nuzzle against her. His lips left soft little pecks along her opposite cheek, marking a path down to where her pulse was strongest.
"I'm furious that others get to see you like this," He continued, his timbre dropping with each word. "But I can accept it, on one condition."
Stelle’s heart fluttered nervously in her chest. "A-and what's that?"
"That when they look at you, they know that you're mine."
In a split second, the gentle caress of his lips was replaced with a razor sharp pressure bearing down against the crux of her neck. Stelle choked on a breath, her entire body freezing in his embrace as he bit down, piercing her flesh without mercy. The sudden sear of pain had her clawing at his shoulders, but the unexpected spark of pleasure that followed turned the wound into nothing more than a dull burn as he suckled at it.
If they had been anywhere else, anywhere a little more private, Stelle would have welcomed any opportunity to see Dan Heng's oft-buried rougher side, but as it was, she had a job to go back to and he was not making it easy for her.
"Hey! I can't hide your hickeys dressed like this!" She squawked as she came back to her senses, and as if to unnerve her, she felt his jaw clamp down even harder.
Despite the way her body instinctively wished to respond, to sway into the heat of his body and his embrace, she instead resorted to repeatedly smacking at his shoulders in a vain hope of getting him to detach before the damage was too significant to hide. Instead, Dan Heng's body pressed hers further against the wall, a quiet rumble of contentment echoing from the back of his throat, ignorant to her thumping fists.
Minutes passed before the strong hold of his jaw finally relaxed, fangs gliding out from the puncture wounds he'd inflicted on her delicate throat. Stelle suppressed a shiver as his tongue passed over the bite, staving off the sluggish flow of blood that bubbled up from the wound. When he made no move to retreat, Stelle gave him one final shove, and he stumbled back on unsteady feet. The tips of his pointed ears had turned a rosy pink, and there was a glassiness to his gaze that made him look half-drunk.
"Dan Heng?"
He blinked, shaking himself out of his stupor. His gaze sharpened as he stared at the hickey he had left on her neck, leaving Stelle feeling strangely exposed and raw. Burying those thoughts away for another time, she sent him a dirty look as she covered the wound with her palm, waiting for him to apologise.
"I'll... see you later, then," He said instead, the heavy weight of his gaze lingering until he finally forced himself to turn away.
"Huh? See you later? What do you mean, see you later?" Stelle mocked. "Where are you going?"
"Back."
“Not even a ‘sorry’, huh?” She called out as he began to walk away. “How did you know I was here anyway!?”
He didn't bother to entertain her questions any further, and Stelle wondered if he was making a quick exit so he could sulk in embarrassment over his own actions. But she knew it would be nearly impossible to pry any more information off of him when his lips were tightly sealed, so she bit her tongue as he stalked off back to the main street, the twin punctures on her neck throbbing faintly as she bent to pick up her abused serving tray.
Stupid dragon.
Her entrance back into World's End felt like one of those walks of shame she’d seen in March’s trashy soap operas, each guilty step punctuated by the jeers and wolf whistles of the Masked Fools, their salacious stares turning her cheeks red. She did her best to ignore the comments and cat calls she received, tawdry questions querying about her hourly rate and what someone needed to do ‘ to get a piece of that ass’ . With each bawdy comment, her hand would come up to cover her hickey with a slap, the spot still hot to the touch and throbbing with her pulse. If Stelle had been uncomfortable with their behaviour earlier in the night, Dan Heng’s little display of possessiveness had made them downright unbearable, and she found herself having to dig her heels into the ground to stop her foot from meeting someone’s groin the next time she heard one of their off-colour remarks.
Stelle wished she could leave and give Dan Heng a piece of her mind over his unacceptable behaviour. But there were only a couple more hours left for her shift, and the call of easy gacha money was too good to pass up for her to call it quits now.
So, she persisted.
Or, well, she tried to.
Her heart hadn’t been able to settle at all after the incident, and her pulse was thundering as if she had been running a continuous sprint without stop. Her skin prickled and itched, sensitive to even the slightest brushes against it, and sweat began to dot the back of her neck despite the cool temperatures inside the bar.
Worse yet, Stelle found herself feeling inexplicably, unbearably , horny.
Her smile trembled as badly as her legs did as she tried to keep a straight face for her patrons, dishing out drinks left and right while her thighs squeezed together in an ill attempt to ease the pressure building up inside of her. It didn't make any sense. Sure, Stelle knew Dan Heng could be one hell of a kisser when he let himself loose, but none of the kisses they had shared in the past had revved her engines that hard, and never to the extent that she was still feeling the tingly aftereffects nearly an hour later. Usually she needed a little more foreplay than that, and yet there she was, shaking like a leaf in the middle of Fool’s territory, two seconds away from melting into a literal puddle because of how hot and bothered that moody dragon had made her.
"Stelle, are you feeling alright?"
Stelle jumped in surprise at the sound of her own name. When she spun around, she met the concerned expression of the bartender, one of the few people she had met in World's End that seemed to possess an ounce of empathy.
"I'm fine, just feeling a little off colour," Stelle dismissed the woman’s worries, though she could not help her own eyes from straying to the clock on the wall to suss out just how long she had left before she could tap out.
"Are you sure?" The bartender frowned, her hand reaching over the bar to lay against Stelle's forehead. "Aeons Stelle, you're burning up! You didn't drink anything anyone offered you, right?"
"No, no," Stelle waved her hands in front of her frantically. "I promise I didn't drink, eat, smoke or swallow anything anyone offered me, just like you told me. I-I think I’m just a little overwhelmed, I’m not used to such crowds."
The barwoman was clearly not convinced by Stelle’s lukewarm excuse, her hands reaching out to snatch her serving tray and napkins before she could even react.
"That's enough for today. You go home and rest."
"But my shift-"
"-Is over, now shoo."
Stelle's mouth opened, words of protest sitting on the tip of her tongue, when another wave of heat surged through her body. Words garbled into whimpers, and her hand came up to clutch at her tensing abdomen.
"Go get some rest. Come back tomorrow and we can talk about pay."
With a grimace, Stelle conceded that leaving was probably for the best.
Giving the bartender a rushed farewell, Stelle hung up her proverbial waitressing badge and stumbled her way out of the bar and onto the lively streets of Penacony. For all the decadence and delights of The Sweet Dream that usually drew her in and held her captive every time she visited, Stelle no longer had the wherewithal to spare any of it a second glance. The bite mark on her neck throbbed with increasing intensity, sending a pulse of unbidden pleasure through her with every beat of her heart. She could feel a burning flush spreading down along her neck and chest, and she chewed at her lower lip to stifle the pitiful, needy noises that threatened to escape her.
Something wasn't right, and she needed to find Dan Heng.
She awoke from the Dreamscape with a gasp, her body hurling itself upright and sending the waters of the dreampool flying. She sat there, panting heavily, as her limbs continued to tingle with an inexplicable restlessness, and her core still burned with neglected tension.
A cry of frustration passed her lips when she realised that whatever effects she was suffering from had followed her into reality. The urge to give in and take matters into her own hands just to gain some relief was almost too strong, and yet even as her fingers toyed with the hem of her leotard her thoughts strayed back to the man that left her in this state, how good it would feel if it were his hands that smoothed over her bare skin… how his voice would melt into a dulcet purr as he confessed his quiet affections into her ear… how the unforgiving ache inside of her would spike when he forced her legs apart and finally, finally, finally–!
With a whimper, Stelle crawled out of the dreampool, and willed herself to stand.
The hallway was dimly lit and devoid of people. Most guests were likely tucked away in their rooms, losing themselves within the depths of The Sweet Dream, yet light spilled out from beneath a single doorway at the other end of the hall. The warm light seemed to taunt her as she approached, and she steeled herself with the last remains of her dignity before she stormed straight into Dan Heng’s unlocked room.
There he sat, lounging across the couch like the very picture of Vidyadharan nonchalance, and suddenly Stelle got the sense that every action she had taken up until now had somehow played right into his hand.
"Dan Heng!" Stelle accused, her anger spiking at the sight of the irritating little smirk he tried to conceal. "What the hell did you do to me?"
"Hm?" His eyebrows sat high on his forehead, the very picture of false innocence.
As if he hadn't been the one to barge into World's End, drag her out into a back alley and then proceed to give her what was probably the most devastating hickey The Silver Rail had ever laid witness to. And yet he remained coyly obstinate, and Stelle had to resist the simmering urge to stalk over there and stomp on his foot in retribution.
"Is this what you meant? About showing everyone that I'm yours?" She asked, her suspicions confirmed as her hands curled into fists against her hips in an attempt to stifle the full body tremors that continued to wrack her.
He leaned forward, a curious gleam in his eyes. "Why? What are you feeling?"
"I think you know what I'm feeling."
Dan Heng stood from his seat, his graceful movements enviable as he crossed the room to stand before her. Stelle felt exposed under his knowing gaze, as if he were dissecting her body and cataloging every single way she had been affected by whatever it was that he had done to her. She blushed, knowing the sight she must have made when she could barely stand straight, her knees quaking violently when another wave of heat pulsed through her core.
"I wanted to test out a new theory," Dan Heng finally admitted.
He reached out for her, allowing her chin to perch on the crook of his finger as the pointed nail of his thumb pressed against the pillow of her lower lip. Stelle had to dig up all her remaining willpower just to stop herself from wilting on the spot.
"T-theory?" She mumbled drunkenly, the tip of her tongue peaking out to taste his skin.
“Mhm,” He continued, his gaze riveted on her lips. "I've been doing some research about the Vidyadhara, about their innate abilities and the hymn magic they can utilise. It's made for some very interesting late night reading."
Distantly, Stelle thought she heard the sound of the door’s lock clicking into place. "And… and what does that have to do with anything-"
Stelle found herself unable to finish her sentence when Dan Heng’s hand gripped at her wrist once again, drawing her in until the space between them shrank away to nothing. She felt the familiar, weighty pressure of his tail as it curled around her, caressing her arms and teasing at her thighs, the soft, feathery end brushing over bare skin and setting frazzled nerves ablaze. The tension in her was wound so tight she thought she might climax right then and there, tangled up in the muscled ropes of his tail.
Before she knew what was happening, Dan Heng moved them across the room, and the slick heat of memoria surrounded her once more as she found herself drawn flat on her back in his dreampool, his tail coiling around her waist as his hands traced down her thighs in a possessive slide.
"If my assumptions are correct, I'm guessing you're feeling a little... hot and bothered right now, right?" He asked, a wry laugh catching in his throat when she ducked her head and refused to meet his gaze. "What? Don’t tell me you’re feeling shy?"
Reluctantly, Stelle peered up at him through the veil of her lashes, her attention caught on the sight of the fangs that peeked out through his parted lips. They glistened with the same hazy blue glow of the memoria they were submerged in, and Stelle might have thought them beautiful if she did not know how lethal they could be. His gaze, too, carried the thrill of danger, for the blazing heat in his teal eyes was that of a triumphant predator that had finally caught its prey.
“You look like you want to eat me…” She whispered, entranced.
Dan Heng leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“And you look delicious, little rabbit.”
Air caught in her lungs as she felt the wet drag of his tongue marking a path along the slope of her neck, seeking out the red welts he had left as evidence of his claim. It was as his lips sealed over the bite to suckle that the pleasure inside of her flared to life, licking down every nerve path in her body until even her fingers and toes tingled with it. The heat swelled everywhere they touched, her muscles drawing taut against an inexplicable tension that began to border on pain.
Stelle reached for him, desperate for more of the delicious feeling that was his weight pressing down on her, but as her arms lifted up, something equally strong tugged her back. Dan Heng’s tail had begun to coil around one arm, weaving beneath her body to wrap the other, effectively pinning her to the shallow bottom of the dreampool in some kind of organic knot, and each time she pulled or twisted she felt him tighten his grip further.
“Dan Heng,” She whined his name as she let her head fall back in defeat.
He hummed absently, ignoring her pleading as his attention drifted from his favourite spot on her neck to where his fingers plucked teasingly at the edge of her leotard’s bust. Gooseflesh broke out across her skin in response to his touch, and a full body quiver rocked her limbs when his claws grazed her as they curled underneath the leather fabric.
Something wicked shimmered in his eyes before his grip tightened, pulling the fabric tight across her torso. The discordant popping sounds of his claws puncturing the leather was followed by the snap of cotton threads as they began to unravel at the seams. A ring of pressure compressed her lungs the tighter he pulled, and if it had not been for the lengths of his tail lashed around her, Stelle thought he might have lifted her up with the force he tore at her clothing.
A huff of frustration fanned across her blushing cheeks as he redoubled his efforts, and with a shear tear, air filled her greedy lungs as the fabric finally gave way, the ribboned remains puddling around her waist. Stelle squirmed as his tail resituated itself, the odd sensation of scales and memoria sliding over her exposed skin sending her frayed nerves into overdrive.
“Let me up,” She pleaded, weakly plucking at the coils around her and feeling them tense in retaliation.
“Shh… stay still for me,” He commanded. His chest expanded with a heavy breath as he traced a hand up her ribs before cupping the softness of her left breast.
Stelle’s vision had corkscrewed, black spots bleeding into the corners until all she could see was him. The intensity of her reaction to his barest touch bordered on madness, and her teeth buried in her bottom lip to stop herself from openly weeping as he began to roll her nipple beneath his thumb.
Over the roar of her own blood rushing through her ears, she thought she heard a purr of satisfaction building in his throat as he felt it stiffen in response.
“This stupid costume,” He muttered feverishly as he leaned down to taste her. His tongue flattened against the curve of her opposite breast, giving her everything and nothing as he abjectly avoided the apex. “Do you know what kind of self restraint it took to not just take you then and there, in that dirty back alley where anyone could have walked by and seen?”
The image of him fucking her like that went straight to her centre, her cunt clenching against the aching emptiness inside of her. Incoherent, garbled words mingled with the quiet pants of ‘please’ that passed her lips as she lost all sense of herself to the feverish haze, her back arching up as much as her restraints would allow as she chased the sensation of his breath unfurling across her skin.
“I want you to suffer, just like me, until your body can’t take it anymore.”
His mouth closed over her nipple, giving it a harsh suck before he released it with a pop.
“No, please, come back,” Stelle protested, her hands grasping at the ephemeral memoria in a futile attempt to latch onto something solid. She needed him back, needed his mouth on her, needed the burn of pleasure because the pain that wracked her otherwise was unbearable.
He did not bow to her demands, even as his hands continued to idly wander across the planes of her naked body. Stelle’s stomach clenched with anticipation as his claws drew faint patterns over the crease of her hips, the swirls and arches he traced growing larger and travelling lower, and Stelle's knees reactively buckled inwards against his hips every time he pressed down over her mound.
He pulled the shredded remains of her leotard off, the leather falling into the pool with a wet slap. Trembling in her vulnerability, she nearly missed his sharp intake of breath and the subtle shudder that broke out across his torso as his fingers dared ever lower.
His gaze never strayed from her body as he spoke, a hint of pride lingering in his tone. “You’re already so wet for me.”
“You s-say that like you weren’t the one that bit me with- with his horny dragon venom,” Stelle’s teeth chattered between each panting breath as she fought to hold onto her last threads of lucid thought.
His eyes flickered back to her’s just as his thumb dipped down to trace along her seam, his lips curling when she was unable to stop the wanton groan that escaped her.
“I’m sorry,” He said, without an ounce of remorse. “Do you want me to take responsibility for my actions?”
His torture continued as he pressed against the hood of her clit with a light swirl, and her hips canted sharply against the weight of his palm.
“Ah–!,” Stelle swallowed back another moan, her thighs pulling in to chase whatever scraps of pleasure he sought to give her. “S-stop teasing me already!”
Her hips bucked upwards a second time, forcing his thumb to slip lower until it rested just at her entrance, and all of Dan Heng’s brazenness seemed to wash away with a quiet hiss caught between his teeth. She bucked again, excitement racing through her as she felt the tip of his claw dip inside her, and he bit back a groan as she contracted around the intrusion. Stelle hardly cared how dangerous it might have been to have those deadly claws inside of her, just as long as he used those beautiful fingers of his to fuck her.
But he didn't, and she might have wailed about it as his hands left her to tend to the task of ripping off his own clothes.
“Patience,” He commanded.
“Fuck your patience,” Stelle sobbed angrily. “Fuck me instead.”
Memoria roiled and splashed around them as Dan Heng fought to divest himself, and Stelle nearly found herself completely submerged under a particularly large wave. She wondered, somewhat hysterically, if she’d be transported back into the Dreamscape as a naked and horny mess if she slipped too far into the viscous liquid, but before she could accidentally manifest her worst nightmare into reality Dan Heng was already pulling her back up and forcing her against the curved incline of the pool.
Her legs opened willingly for him, and just the weight of his bare body pressing her down felt borderline euphoric.
“Feel that?” He asked, voice thick with desire. His hand hooked under her thigh, prying her open and bringing her calf up to hang over his shoulder. “Do you feel how much I need you?”
She did. Aeons, she did.
The evidence of his desire pressed intimately against her inner thigh, too far from where she wanted him to be but close enough that he had her almost salivating with the promise of more. His breathing was strained as he fought to maintain some semblance of control, while the curve of his tail settled against her lower back, lifting her up and aligning their bodies until she matched the languid roll of his hips.
Unable to fight the draw, she looked down between their bodies, where the sight of his cock sliding between her lower lips and glistening with her arousal was almost enough to have her combust on the spot. Each rock forward had her gasping, her clit aching with need.
“Please, Dan Heng,” She whispered drunkenly, her earlier irritation lost to the waves of desperation. “I need you.”
He laughed, barely more than a rush of air to disturb the ripples of memoria, as he reached between their trembling bodies. She groaned when she felt the tip of his cock nudge against her entrance, her sex fluttering in anticipation against the overwhelming pressure.
“It’s all yours.”
It felt like another amber era had come and gone before he bottomed out, his hips pressing against the backs of her thighs, testing the limits of how much her body could take. The stretch felt heavenly, and Stelle might have said as much as she tightened around his cock, desperate to keep him there.
All it took was three short, tentative thrusts for her to shatter completely, the tension that had been boiling inside of her spilling over in a rapid torrent that stole the breath right from her lungs.
When her vision cleared, she found Dan Heng staring down at her, an otherworldly gleam in his beautiful eyes.
“Did you just come?” He asked, awestruck.
Mustering a half hearted glare as she shuddered through the aftermath, she lifted herself up onto her elbows - the grip of his tail had fallen slack in his apparent surprise. A smart retort sat on the tip of her tongue, something about being blue-balled for hours, when Dan Heng decided to interrupt her brain and rock forward in a slow grind.
Stelle lost her train of thought.
Actually, Stelle was pretty sure she was losing her mind.
“Dan Heng, you feel so good,” She sighed, barely missing the self satisfied smile on his lips. She could feel his pulse, every ridge and vein, deep inside of her as he acclimated himself with his carefully measured pace.
Perhaps it was testament to his declarations of watching her suffer, because the way he refused to speed up was driving her mad in more ways than one. The coil inside of her twisted tight, each roll of his hips teasing her with the promises of so much more. But his tail kept her pinned, stopping her from lifting her hips more than an inch when all she wished to do was buck up and chase the high just out of reach, and each time she felt like she might just make it he all but stopped, leaving her on the edge, over and over again.
“Please, please, just let me come,” She weeped openly, her neck straining back until the crown of her head was submerged in the memoria.
Dan Heng pressed the side of his face into her calf, his brow pinched tight as he placed absent, open mouthed kisses against her skin. “ Patience .”
Her free foot hitched itself against the base of his tail, her heel grinding down until his hips snapped forward and his breath hissed through clenched teeth.
“Fuck,” He bit out.
So she did it again. His hips bucked, hard, forcing a zing of pleasure through her as his pelvis bumped up against her clit.
“Stelle.”
She felt it when he finally snapped, his teeth pressed against her ankle in warning, as if she had anything left in her to care. His hips took up a brutal rhythm, chasing her down the path of no return. He pressed forward, bending her in half as he planted his hands down on the bottom of the pool, using the leverage he gained to lengthen his thrusts and find her clit at the end of every one with a wicked grind.
“You said you wanted to come again,” He panted, fangs gnashing together. “So come.”
In a tremble of limbs, she helpless but to do as he commanded. He fucked her through it until the feeling of her dripping cunt pulsing around him was too much to bear, and he tumbled off the edge right with her. His seed slickened his movements, and he finally released his hold on her leg as he chased the final ripples of his orgasm.
Feeling stuffed full, Stelle squirmed as his come dribbled down the crease of her ass. The euphoric afterglow she should have felt after two mind blowing orgasms was nowhere to be found, the lingering effects of the poison in her veins was still left unsatisfied, and tears of frustration began to well in the corner of her eyes.
“Oh, we’re not done yet,” Dan Heng said, his voice deeper than she had ever heard it before. “We’ve just started, mate. ”
She felt his claws score her delicate skin as he pulled her up from the waist, the memoria sliding down her back in viscous rivulets. It felt like she had lost all control of her body, so desperate for pleasure that she willingly became a puppet in Dan Heng’s hands as he guided her body to his liking. He turned her around, his tail supporting her torso as he situated her over his lap with her thighs spread wide to bracket over his.
Still trembling, Stelle let her head fall back onto his shoulder as she sagged against his chest. Splayed open like this, his hands had free roam of her body, stroking and squeezing at her hips, her stomach, her breasts. Memoria coated every inch of her skin, leaving behind an effervescent blue shimmer that twinkled under the lights.
The feeling of his hands, hot against her skin, was heavenly, yet it only seemed to stoke the desperate fever inside of her higher with no sign of reprieve. Her core cramped once more, and she began to work herself against his still hard length, syphoning up every ounce of pleasure she could each time she felt the heat of him glide over her aching clit.
For a while, Dan Heng seemed to be content to watch her rub out another tiny, unsatisfactory orgasm that did little to temper the fire inside of her, the sound of his breathless laughter brushing past her ear as he toyed and played with her breasts.
“So needy,” He teased, the tip of his nose tracing the nape of her neck.
“Y-your–,” She swallowed back a strangled sound, her body shivering through another miserable little climax. “S’your f-fault. Stupid dragon.”
“Mhmm,” He purred, wrenching another weak noise from her throat when he kissed the mark he had given her.
His hand followed the slippery path down her body to reach between them, feeding his cock back inside her with a wet glide. There was no resistance this time, no need to adjust to the intense pressure of his cock buried deep inside, before his fingers gripped at her waist and urged her to move.
Not that she needed much encouragement, not with the poison in her veins driving her to stoke the flames higher and higher. She revelled in it, the way she could feel the shape of him massage every greedy, pleasure drunk nerve as she rolled her hips, the way Dan Heng’s breath stuttered every time the crown of his cock reached the deepest parts of her.
“Beautiful,” He crooned, teeth nipping at her earlobe. “Keep going.”
She rode him with wild abandon, the change in angle finding new spots inside of her that sang from the extra stimulation. Desperate for more, she reached back to claw at his shoulders, his sides, anything she could to keep herself anchored to reality as she chased that elusive peak. When his fingers sought to toy with her neglected clit once again, she rapidly found herself spiraling to the precipice once more, her hips losing their rhythm. The pleasure spiraled sharply, and Stelle found herself falling off the precipice once more, dragging her further and further into the depths of depravity.
Her knees gave out in the aftermath, her thighs folding in on her until she buckled forward and out Dan Heng’s lap, a snarl of frustration reverberating down her spine as he continued to rut into her. His hands pawed at her ass, drawing her back to meet his sharp thrusts, the sound of slapping skin echoing off the walls until she felt the thick, hot essence of his climax flooding her insides again, slaking the greedy fire in her.
And for a moment, Stelle thought she could feel the effects of the aphrodisiac in her bloodstream starting to wane, her muscles turning to goo with each climax that wracked through her body. Yet somehow it still simmered, still needled at her insides, unsatisfied.
“One more,” He demanded, and in an instant Stelle found herself flopped onto her back.
He surged back inside of her, and she took him to the hilt with ease. There was nothing human about the way he so thoroughly used her body, his talons scoring her hips and thighs, his fangs drawing dangerously close to her lifeblood. Each thrust had memoria roiling against the lip of the pool in frenetic waves, sprays flaying out across the floor of the hotel room. Stelle’s hand flung back to cling onto the rim, her entire body rocking from the force of Dan Heng’s pounding hips. Stelle wailed, uninhibited, as she felt herself build to her climax, far more intense, far more devastating than any before.
His hand clawed at the gnarled mass of her hair, his mouth agape with each gasping breath and grunt of pleasure.
“That’s it,” He muttered, possessed, saliva drooling down his chin. “That’s it. That’s it, that’s it that’s it–”
She stiffened in his arms, her cries of pleasure swallowed by his demanding mouth. The entirety of the Asdana star system might as well have collapsed around them as she drowned in the waves of ecstasy that rolled through her, and Dan Heng was the only thing that kept her anchored in reality.
She heard her name as he growled it against her lips, felt the punishing rhythm he had set begin to fracture as he fought against the grips of his own climax. Wet heat burned inside her once more, stuffing her full with his claim, his hips grinding himself as deep as he could.
And then, between panting breaths and trembling limbs, there was relief.
Dan Heng collapsed, crushing her beneath the weight of his body. Her hips and thighs started to ache viciously from the battering they had received, and she struggled to breath against the pressure of his heavy chest on her lungs.
She’d probably need a wheelchair for a week, she thought. Maybe two.
And yet at the same time, Stelle had never felt more content in her life.
When Dan Heng finally came back down to earth, he pried himself off of her on arms that trembled with exhaustion, ignoring her grumbles in protest.
“Fuck,” He sighed, his thumb pressing against one of the myriad of bruises covering her body. “Are you okay?”
She hummed, the effort to open her eyes too great to fight. “Never better.”
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asked, a familiar sound of concern threading through his words.
“I’m a little sore, but it’s a good sore,” Stelle couldn’t help but smile, the familiarity of the situation warming her heart.
He continued to thumb along the long red welts and scratches that had formed across her torso and thighs. Her arms and lower back too, felt itchy and warm, and when she weakly lifted an arm to inspect the damage she found strange, rash-like patterns covering her fair skin everywhere his scales had rubbed against her.
“You sure?”
“Mhmm.”
She knew he didn’t believe her and that he was probably feeling a momentous amount of guilt because the whole situation had absolutely been his fault, so she opened up her arms and silently requested his warmth.
He gathered her into his arms, and as she settled into his chest, she felt his fingers stroke through the tangles of her hair, snarled and wet from the memoria. He nuzzled against her temple, his lips pressed against her skin.
“Promise me you won’t take anymore commissions for The Tavern,” He requested softly.
“I promise,” She said, her lips pulling into a drunken smile. “Where did you learn this stuff anyway?”
She felt his body turn still, and his hand paused in his languid combing. Confused by his sudden change in demeanor, she forced herself upright only to find him pointedly avoiding her gaze while the tips of his ears turned a charming shade of pink.
“Dan Heng?”
“A book.”
“A book? What book?”
His eyes flickered to the side, and Stelle followed his gaze.
There, sitting innocently on the coffee table, was a single book who’s spine proudly read:
The Hedonist’s Guide to Hymn Magic
and other draconic pleasures