#evil dragon

He had demanded you in sacrifice a bit over a month ago. Your father, the king, had attempted to kill this monstrous dragon, "Rivers Of Flames Cleave The Sky" as the beast called itself. He had been sowing destruction all over the kingdom for generations, demanding tithes, devouring cattle, lording over lords. It had been too much, the tyranical beast had to be put down. An entire army had been mobilized to end him, and then swiftly all slaughtered by fire and by what could only be described as "pure devastation". Brave knights, clad in the best steel the region had ever forged, reduced to crumbling ashes and glass with nothing but a gaze and an open maw filled with teeth covered in strings of glistening spit and dripping with blood. 

It was an afront that simply couldn't go unpunished, and the beast proved to be exactly as cruel as it had been. He asked for you to be offered in reparations. The climb up the mountain had been arduous, though you couldn't quite feel the sharp stones under your naked feet. Instead, what tore you up was the barely repressed sobs of your mother and the cold, thousand-yard stare of your father. 

Already grieving your loss, your mother, sisters and servants embellished you like a bride. He asked for you because you were the fairest, after all. And so, when the beast emerged from his den, stepping over the crumbling, glassed corpses of a thousand courageous soldiers, you wore white lace and gold jewels, your face covered with a veil of sheer fabric and golden beads. His scales, on the other hand, were crimson as if still stained by the blood he'd spilled, his horns a sharp crown, his back and limbs covered in black feathers like an omen of death. His chest had a searing glow, a thousand furnaces burning where his heart had been proven to be missing, so warm the snow was already melting under his belly. He smelled like red wine and burning agarwood. He was some barely fathomable icon of devastation, large as a fort, crushing the assembled nobles with his sheer presence.

He was ready to turn you to a statue of ash when he set his eyes on you, two rings of flames that danced not just with the dying sunlight but with their own fire. Something...changed in his demeanor, his scent became sweeter. He paused, surrounding you with the coils of his body, both feline and serpentine, thrumming with old, evil power. Fear made your body feel like ice, but his breath was so warm it felt like facing a blazing pyre. He observed you from all angles, took in your scent, and then finally demanded you as the crown jewel of his hoard.

For a month you had now been living here, in luxuries that even your kingly father hadn't been able to offer you. You slept on silks embroidered with pure gold, ate rare game Rivers had hunted for you himself, had so much jewelry you could have worn nothing but hanging gold and gems. Slowly, your fear for him gave way to a completely different emotion. The very one that kept you up at night.

At first terrified at their sight, you found yourself silently gasping over his fangs, glistening with strands of saliva, flicked by a tongue forked as if only for sin. His size made you feel so fragile and meek at first, so easily crushed, but you now nuzzled against his towering warmth as soon as the night air threatened to turn cold. Even his flames, a weapon you saw used to inflict death on a scale you couldn't have even imagined, now danced in your eyes with the same attraction as a candle drawing in a lost moth.

This night, and the night before, and the night even before that, what kept you awake was your own fire. It burned in your core as you looked at the edge of his claws, as you felt his powerful warmth, as you smelled his heady, intoxicating scent. You hadn't had the time to take care of these unnerving and wildly grotesque thoughts, as he was never away for more than a few minutes. Instead, they had been piling up like the coins of his hoard, leaving you pent up, quivering every time he moved, hanging to any of his words, aching for his breath, for his attention, for his touch.

Maybe this night it was too much, maybe you had convinced yourself he was in a deep enough slumber, maybe you simply didn't care anymore. You reached out and brushed your fingers against the rough outline of his scales. At first, you were light, hesitating, but soon enough you pressed harder against the impenetrable armor covering his body. You explored the firmness of his flesh, the warmth of his heart, how softer the scales became as you wandered down to his belly, how much he hummed and vibrated with each exhale. Down and down you kept going, caressing the soft membrane of his wings, covered in hard, knife-like feathers, then down again to the base of his tail, thicker than a tree trunk, long enough to ensnare an entire house.

The inside of your thighs slickened with desire, you did something you had never thought you'd attempt. You hiked the red silk dress he'd offered you above your knees to straddle his scales. Slowly, fingers pressing against your lips to keep your voice down, you ground against him, trying your best not to squeeze his tail too much, knees desperate to lock around him. Each of his sleeping breaths rumbled with enough power for you to feel it up into your spine, methodically turning your sorry, sickened mind to mush. Rocking your hips, you found upon his carapace bumps that pushed right against your most sensitive spots.

It was soon too much for you and you lost your balance for just a moment. Catching yourself with your hands higher up on his tail, you let out a faint moan. Holding your breath, you waited to see if he stirred, and then realized the rumbling had ceased and a fiery eye was looking at you with amusement.

"And what is my little crown jewel doing?" he asked, his voice husky with sleep.

There were no words that could excuse your transgression. Before you could stand up, pretend you were doing anything else, vanish in shame and terror, he rose his tail to lift you in the air, trapping you where you were sitting. An amused hum sent another rumble up your entire skeleton, deep enough to numb your brain right through your skull.

"Did I interrupt?" he mused, "No, no, my dear...Please, continue."

And he patiently waited, his gaze burning right through you. You were frozen by fear, unsure if you could even move a muscle. Your chest heaved in shallow, shaky breaths as if you could simply disappear. After a few moments, his scent became more bitter and his feathers bristled with annoyance. He brought you right before his face, a sigh like a searing gale brushing over yours. In a guilty thought, you wished you were naked so you could feel it on every inch of your body.

"I've told you to keep going, little jewel," he groaned, before tilting his head to the side, "Unless you need help?"

Your heart missed a beat as you saw his tongue slowly slip out from between his fangs, two tips parting with heavy strings of saliva. His muzzle teased at the hem of your dress and, in a thoughtless burst of need, you lifted it the rest of the way up around your belly. You were now completely exposed to him, and he left you to stew in that realization and in the sensation of his warm sighs against your wet skin before finally giving you what you were so desperately aching for.

His tongue was almost too hot, making you flinch and wince, but you wanted it so much you bucked your hips back into him. His saliva was like hot, sticky wax, making your toes curl with a delicious mix of pain and desire as it ran down your legs. Just as you had seen before, he had perfect control over each tip of his tongue, and was now using them to let you hang over the edge, breathless, whimpering. More than once you thought you were about to lose your mind before he pulled back to let you plateau for a few moments.

By sunrise, he had made you cum on his tail and tongue so many times that you'd lost count. Your mind had broken at the seams, unable to parse the words he crooned right into your ear, between every orgasm he coaxed out of you. When it was too much to bear and you lost your balance, he held you up by your hair, forbidding you any respite. An hour after the next, you turned into a moaning, babbling mess.

It was only when the lights of the sun hinted at noon through the crystal ceiling that he let you down, carefully setting you on the silks of your bed. He blew gently on your face, your hands, your legs. A sweet, soft sensation that helped you come back to your senses. Knees shaking, you tried to sit up, but he tenderly pushed you back on the pillows with his muzzle and whispered something you were still too far gone to understand. He then lifted your chest and head to help you drink a bowl of fresh water.

The world turned around you for a few more minutes, the tips of your fingers and toes tingling as if pricked by pins and needles. As this sensation faded, a sense of peacefulness washed over you, your body relaxing like it had never before. Rivers put his head next to yours, blowing out another warm breath.

"Sleep now, little jewel."