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[reznikolai]

@volkvolny NIKOLAI LANTSOV

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[reznikolai]

[As she drinks in the sight of his cock, he drinks in her transfixed expression. He feels the shudder that ripples through her body echo in his own. This will do, she murmurs, and he basks in her approval. From any other woman this would amount to lackluster praise — teasing him, perhaps — but from a woman whose husband must be, quite literally, hung like a horse... Nikolai isn't usually quite so fixated on size, but with his heart and body bent on pleasuring Konoha thoroughly, well, it's a crucial factor.

When her mouth shifts to his cock, her kiss a blossom of heat against the velvet skin of his head, his fingers curl into her hair above the nape of her neck. His breath tangles in his throat for a second. Anticipation turns his exhales into whimpers as Konoha continues to sample him. Nikolai watches her through heavy-lidded eyes. His greed grows, a roaring thing deep inside his gut. His concerns narrow only to her, only to now.

So she has his undivided attention when she pulls her robe loose to tempt him with a glimpse of her breasts. His hands can remember how soft they were to hold, his mouth how sweet to kiss. His body remembers wanting hers on another afternoon. And on this afternoon, he bends to push her robe from her shoulders, letting the fabric gape wider.]

Ah, so you're greedy, Konoha...

[His voice carries the familiar teasing lilt. His hands are in her hair again, seeking whatever is tying her tresses up and teasing it loose.]

But I do like a challenge.

[Nikolai answers her invitation by sitting beside her on the bed of hay, mindful of positioning himself in such a way that he's accessible to her. Unable to resist touching her, he pulls her face down for a kiss, heavy and ripe. He plunges his hands into the parted front of her robe, reveling in the plumpness of her breasts. His own shirt is still on, buttoned up to his collarbone, but with so much else to occupy his mind and hands, it isn't exactly a priority.]

[lumberlady]

[Konoha swears she doesn’t care that much either, that she’d never be so crude as to select a partner based only on their lewdest possible physical feature, judging based solely on their size. After all, hadn’t she seemed more than willing to have him as he was meant to be, that faraway afternoon with crimson Rag’n’boni powders splashed on her dark skin? Hadn’t most all of her lovers in these strange, touch-driven worlds by rule of simple necessity been two-legged and human-sized? She knew better than most women, it could be argued, that size wasn’t everything, that effort and desire could conquer most physical discrepancies…

But in the depth of her more instinctive heat, craving for a male to prove his strength, to make her his, to fill her so well in more ways than one… Konoha can’t help but care, and as her kimono slides from her muscular shoulders, as her thick mane tumbles loose from its bun and his fingers send it down her back, all the way to her withers and framing her face in a far more mature way than her usual hairstyle… She can’t help but whine softly, as if his teasing accusation of greed wasn’t teasing at all, like she had to answer for her shamelessness.]

I know…

[She has to part from the cock she’s fallen into attending when he sits, temporarily breaking the primitive spell and bringing just a touch less haze to her eyes as she watches him arrange himself, her tail quivering and flicking as best it could beneath the tight confines of the skirt she’d hastily tied on after her attempts at self-pleasure had failed, the musky scent gradually growing stronger the more her arousal, leftover and new both, stains the fabric. But the moment he reaches for her, gives her permission to come back…

Her kiss is greedy, slowly losing to the need he’s offered to sate. The same prick of teeth from beneath that tree, softened as best she can with plush lips that taste faintly of him. A whimper slides off her tongue into his mouth when his hands delve into her half-off robe, as she shrugs out of the sleeves to make it more off, flexible upper spine dipping to press her breasts needily into his hands. She isn’t so painfully full as the first time they had touched, it’s been far too many months since she’s been separated from her daughter, but she hasn’t been able to let herself dry up fully, coaxing out a bit each night to keep herself able, no matter how lonely doing so made her feel, because to do otherwise… would be too much like giving up.]

Nikolai, please…

[It would be too much like accepting she was stuck here, like she’d lost the hope that maybe today, maybe tomorrow, she might be back where she belonged, with a husband who would hold her and a child who needed her. So though she isn’t as quick to spill over his fingers the telltale whimpers of sensitivity are still there, the mounting pressure making her shift this way, that, in discomfort and pleasure both until… ah. Just a bit, a hint of pale glistening on the tips of dusky nipples as her voice wavers, nearly lost between kisses.]

Stay here with me… until my heat dies down… make it…

[That’s the challenge. There’s a part of her brain that knows she shouldn’t ask him to stay, that unlike that festival day when she’d pled for the same, there was some reason she shouldn’t… but it’s lost to hand fasting memories and drink and Marilla, and though she’s reluctant to pull away from the kiss… alright, just one more moment. To replace her lips, a hand gently begins to stroke up and down his erection at a painfully slow, wondering pace, sighing with the promise of potential relief as she uses her other hand to drag up his chest, find the collar, undo the button-

Struggle with the button, her frustration a tiny whimper against his teeth. Struggle with the next… before she pulls her other hand up to help and just… accidentally rips it off in her haste. It’s almost laughably easy for a woman of her strength, and at this moment…

Konoha would gladly spend her afterglow sewing each button back onto his shirt rather than be denied the sight and touch of skin in this moment, be denied returning to teasing him to full mast, and so… She’s sorry to his shirt, but it’s coming off whether it wants to or not. All of her patience for foreign clothing had been used up on his trousers, and this close, with his scent right under her nose… ?

The buttons are asking for it.

But surely he’ll forgive the transgression once his shirt is hanging open… and she can sink into a low dip of upper body between her forelegs to move from kissing his mouth to kissing his chest, down, down, until she can press her lips to the tip of his cock again… and wrap her warm breasts snugly around his newfound girth, looking up for his approval with her cheeks flushed and soft pants of breath fluttering over the saliva she’s left on his skin.]

[reznikolai]

[In answer to Konoha's desire to be claimed, to be filled, the dragon lurking in Nikolai's blood is eager to prove his strength. This bestial instinct rises as her scent swells around him. Not just inviting him to touch her, but demanding that he do so. In this way, although their bodies do not match, they fit each other like a key to a lock.

Nikolai grins into the kiss, lips breaking rhythm for just a beat, as she pushes her breasts into his attentive hands. Yes, he remembers their shape and weight, their give when he squeezes. When he brushes his thumbs over her nipples and teases circles around the tight buds, feels the warm beads of milk gathering on each, he remembers the sticky sweetness. The feeling of being so thoroughly taken care of in the bastion of her body.]

I'm not going anywhere, Konoha...

[An echo of words he'd said in the shade of those trees. As she draws away, he braces himself by leaning back on his hand. The other threads with her hair. With the heartbeat of a dragon pounding through him, he can't leave. This afternoon, Konoha is his to protect.

A slow groan unfolds from his throat as she strokes his shaft. Behind him, his wings rustle and his tail swipes across the blanket. Despite how...active he's been all week, his body is still so sensitive to every touch, as if it knows that it still needs more. Even now, he only grows harder in Konoha's hand.]

And this time nothing can interrupt us.

[Nikolai's hazel eyes glint mischievously, as if to tell her that even if her housemate comes by, he doesn't plan on stopping. That's his own playfulness emboldened by the draconic temperament that seizes him.

He can only laugh as she yanks open his shirt and several buttons go flying. There is something deeply appealing in her impatience... With his shirt now hanging open, she can see that his chest bears the same thin black scars as his hands. They look like cracks spreading out from an epicenter over his heart.

He doesn't have time to worry about how she might react to the disturbing appearance of his skin, because at once she's bending to kiss the head of his cock and...press her tits to his shaft, surrounding him with her soft warmth. The sight is a novel one. For a flash, somewhere in the dim of his thoughts, he realizes that Alina isn't exactly equipped to perform this act. In the next second, a pang of guilt that gets swallowed up in the heat of Konoha's mouth.]

Saints...

[lumberlady]

[If Konoha had not already seen the dark scars that marred the veins of his hands, the way they traveled up his arms towards his chest (though that memory was hazier, why had she seen tha… shirts, right, the shirt)… but she can’t even appreciate the irony of his visit being to reclaim one while she has just carelessly damaged another.

He’ll have to come again to retrieve it once she’s sewn the buttons back on. That, or stay a bit to bask in what they’ve done as she hums softly to herself, needle passing through cloth and rhythmically tugging thread to purpose. Either one… She doesn’t mind. So she doesn’t feel that guilty at all. She’s too hungry for that.]

Nothing will… Don't worry…

[It’s intended as reassurance, but the words are made rousing by the far too gone tone in her voice, the way she punctuates each part of the phrase with its own kiss, a flutter of dark eyelashes and a wanting hum. There might be room enough in that bed of hay and blankets for two centaurs, but it hasn’t held that for what seemed like ages now. Not a month after he’d agreed to help her with her heats her roommate had lost his true shape to that of a human, been forced to admit that he’d been concealing his status as a magical being from her—- one that didn’t need to eat, to rest, to sleep. Without the need to keep up the ruse, she fell asleep alone now, save for the one day a week she made him remain over night as “punishment” for his lies. But that was days ago, and the next days hence, so today… no one else would set foot in the barn until morning.

And for once, Konoha thinks: good… and devotes herself to the task before her.

A part of her, not yet remembered, knows that there was another woman in this equation, knows that she surely couldn’t manage this… and wouldn’t that make it exciting? Wasn’t she quite curious to be treated to something her own husband couldn’t manage? It was just a foray into newness, a sample of another life, and this time… it comes with Konoha whimpering softly with both relief and desire as she uses her hands to press her breasts around the base of his cock, fingers sinking into soft fullness before slipping gently over sensitive tips, coating skin with that sweet warmth before ever so lewdly… making use of it to pump up and down his erection smoother, easing her path with pale lubricant and punctuating each pass with a careful nibble, an affectionate kiss, or a wet swirl of tongue, torn between closing her eyes as if sampling a treat she’s been longing for or looking up at him with eyes hazy with lust. Yet despite how intently she takes to him, reveling in how her tail wasn’t the only trailer, she can hear his whipping about in the straw…]

Even if it feels good… Don’t cum, Nikolai…

[Her voice slips out over the head of the cock she’s intently coaxing to full mast, the peak of his gem-granted prowess… but the teasing tone has been replaced by something far more primitive, far more needy.]

Not until you’re inside me.

[But she isn’t making it easy to wait. Not when she gives him another eager squeeze between dark breasts, arching up until just the very tip of him was visible between her cleavage before pressing back down to nestle at the base and allow her to pepper the underside of his cock with kisses and drags of tongue along the way.]

[reznikolai]

[What kind of a man can fret over buttons when a woman is looking up at him like that? Teasing him with salacious words as she lavishes attention on his cock, mouth and hands and breasts working together to push him to dizzying heights...

Nikolai's whole being hums with a sort of happy tumult. Not just his tail swishing against the bed — his fingers curling in the loose waves of her hair and in the blanket beneath him, his hips rocking into the rhythm she has set and his head tilting back to reward her with a groan unfurling from deep in his chest.]

Not until I've made you come.

[The crooked grin he casts down on Konoha radiates confidence. Despite the frenzy of his more bestial instincts pushing and pulling at him, he intends to savor this. There is no red powder turning his head. What drives him lurks much deeper, not merely smeared across his skin but entwined with his sinews. Not a matchstick, but a steady fire methodically chewing its way through the kindling.

He untangles his hand from her hair to push the dark locks back from her face, watching her intently as she works for him. He drops his touch to her breast where it rests at the base of his cock, gently pinching the nipple. Pleasure hums in his throat. Even as he enjoys the slow friction of her milk-slick tits and the heated caresses of her mouth, he's already imagining himself inside of her. How would she show her appreciation when he takes care of her in all the ways her body craves?]

[lumberlady]

[Why does she love it so much, hearing that sort of happy, satisfied sound coming from a man sharing her bed (hay)? She can't help but look for that validation, find herself warm not just physically, but emotionally, to the proof that they were enjoying themself, that what she was doing... was doing things to them. Not that she couldn't tell with how hard his cock has grown between her breasts and beneath the reverent pressure of lips and tongue, but there was something about sound.

And scent, when she was in the depths of her heat like this, reveling in how much he smelled like man, mingling with her sweet hints of milk and earthy musk in the air to create an intoxicating haze. For a moment she just nuzzles into the fingers in her hair, presses her breasts tigher around his cock and lets him thrust up into the warm sheath she provides, just a fraction of what she'd be able to offer him elsewhere. He sounds so sure when he says that, that he'll provide for her first, that she can't help but sigh in desire.]

I want that...

[So, so bad. As his touch moves from her hair down she nips after his fingers along the way, teeth clicking audibly when he pinches in just the right way to make her whimper and squirm, wetting his fingers, a bit of inner thigh, with another little spill of wasted love. Her breath skitters out warm over the mess of milk and saliva she's left on his cock, panting with desire as she tries to summon the words to clarify,]

I want you to...

[Not just that, not from anyone, she wanted... No, her husband wasn't here, so she wanted him to do that. Her hindquarters keep shifting, unable to get comfortable as her tail flicks, as arousal she stokes by pleasing him continues to swell and stain the fabric of her "skirt", and now... He's properly erect, no amount of spoiling would make him stiffer, and her gaze drifts up to his face, her tongue slipping over her bottom lip to taste him there before she swallows eagerly, gives a last squeeze of tender bosom around him before she lets her hands move back to the straw and blanket-covered ground, prop her upper half up at a better angle to ask for a kiss. For more than a kiss, a little "please" whispered between.]

[reznikolai]

[Their shared anticipation is a palpable thing in the air around them. He can feel it prickling under his skin and singing in his blood. Her whisper of please burrows into him and his heart curls around it like a dragon's serpentine body around its hoard. Nikolai has always possessed this hunger for affection, this need to be wanted and necessary and whatever else would keep people by his side. The dragon now enmeshed with his being only exacerbates this need, drags it to the surface and breathes new life into its lungs.

So he kisses Konoha in the way one breathes air, steady and without surcease. He leans into her, shifting onto his knees for better leverage, heels folded under his seat. He holds her face in both hands.]

Let me...

[Murmuring, spilling the words against her lips. Echoes of the declaration that led them here to this bed. He turns his head from her lips only to lick the dribble of her milk from his fingertips.]

Let me treat you... [Kissing one corner of her mouth, then the other.] ...The way you deserve.

[His hands fan over the sides of her neck and follow the slope of her strong shoulders, pushing her loosened kimono the rest of the way off. Half of his mind is on the skirt tied over her rump, but that would come in its own turn. Through touch he surveys her full breasts, her hard muscles blending into equine breast. He strokes her fine coat, coasting over her equine shoulders, to reassure her that he isn't afraid of the less familiar parts of her body. His eyes find hers again.]

How should we...?

[A soft laugh curls his lip. He might need some instruction here...]

[lumberlady]

[It wasn’t just her sense of sound or smell that were enhanced (or rather, lewdly refocused) in the midst of a rut. The absolute lack of hesitation between her little plea and that kiss, deep and all consuming, would have been enough on its own, but with the taste of him mingling twofold on her tongue Konoha can’t help but moan low and drawn out into his lips, left breathless and just a bit dizzy when he pulls away to take her face in his hands. Her bosom as well as the barrel of her lower chest expand in shallow flutters for breath, excitement both physical and emotional knocking around her hearts so carelessly she feels for a moment that they might burst. the way she deserved…

She wanted that so badly. To be taken care of with love. To take care of someone else and gift her wasted affection into their open hands. Yet her husband isn’t here, she sleeps and wakes alone without the person she loved more than anything, and only when she’s like this can she justify letting herself be another man’s woman, just for a few fleeting moments, let herself-]

Thank you…

[For agreeing to help her in the first place. For giving her words like that. For touching her like that, as if she were a whole woman and not half of one. It’s so quiet it might not even have existed at all, more an exhale of a sigh than two grateful words, because she doesn’t… No, she doesn’t want him to say “you’re welcome” or tell her she needn’t say it. It’s done, and she’d rather help him peel her kimono properly from her body, revealing more contrasting planes of soft womanhood and hard muscle, the close-to-human-but-somehow-not-quite-right knit of hard muscles along her back and shoulders designed to support an entirely different structure and weight, the dark vestigial mane that traces up from her withers and bay coat halfway up her more human-looking spine before it fades away to only skin.

He laughs, and it’s a good laugh. Even if it makes her flush as if she could even pretend to be maidenly any longer, her own gaze moving back to her skirt-clad rump, the way her tail has formed a restlessly flicking lump beneath the fabric.]

Ah… from behind is probably easiest… I’ll stay down so you can reach…

[The logistics of interspecies mating was never without at least a touch of awkward, needed warnings and rearranging, but she shifts a bit in the hay and blankets, rearranges her back legs on either side of her body in a way that, were she just stripped bare of that last garment, meant she would be exposed and ready to be… well, mounted. It could still be mounting on her belly, she supposed, as her voice turns just a bit wistful, her upper half arching into each slide of his hand over slick breasts, soft coat, savoring it before-]

I will miss you up here, though…

[Sadly, there was nothing to be done for the difference in lengths between their bodies, even if a sudden difference in his girth promised to be more than pleasing to her heat-addled senses.

And as eager as she was for him to move back to where she even now throbbed for attention… she can’t help wrapping her arms around his neck for one last kiss, tender and wanting in a heady mix, long enough to last her through losing the ability to hold him once he moved down her flank.]

[reznikolai]

[Nikolai understands that he isn't meant to answer her thanks. It's simply meant to patter in the space between them like their heartbeats.

As Konoha pulls him in for another kiss, he continues his exploration of her body, learning its unique landscape. His hand slides around her waist to pet the bit of mane bridging her lower spine with her equine half. His fingers trace her surprising muscles. He grins as their kiss concludes.]

I will come back eventually... [Ducking his head, he presses a kiss to Konoha's neck, grazes his teeth against her skin. His words reverberate through her throat.] Not too soon, of course.

[He squeezes her breasts again to leave her something to savor, watching raptly as another splash of milk spills from each dusky nipple and runs in twin rivulets over her skin.

For all the power of his brilliant mind, if asked, he could not explain the poignant appeal of her mother's milk. It's a reminder of her loneliness, the things she has left behind, which he cannot possibly comprehend as a bachelor — but Nikolai understands loneliness, even if hers is a different shape from the loneliness he has inhabited all his life. And now, with the instincts of a dragon coiled around him — her milk, hinting at the soft parts cradled within her resilient heart, becomes a reminder of why he needs to protect her. Why she needs him.

His hands fall away from her front, his mouth leaves her neck. He reaches behind his neck to pop open the last buttons holding his shirt together. Impatient with the added complications of dragon-appendage-friendly clothing, he yanks his shirt off and flings it somewhere off the bed. Now with nothing decorating his body but the shimmering teal scales scattered in patches over his scarred skin, he peels himself away and shifts on the bed to position himself behind her.

She looks good like this, ready to receive him. His cock throbs with want. As he finds the ties of her skirt, his eyes flick up the length of Konoha's body to pin her with a mischievous smile. Teasing her, Nikolai presses his length against her so that she can feel his hard heat through the last stretch of fabric defending (in vain) her modesty. He loosens her skirt with a determined tug, pulling it aside. Her tail pops free, tickling his chest with silky hairs. Next, he removes the little sachet of potpourri fastened to the dock of her tail. There's no need for her to disguise the sharp scent of her desire.

He pauses a moment, poised on his knees like a penitent with his hands placed on either side of her rump, to observe, ah, what he has to work with. He swipes his knuckles — mindful of his dragon's claws — over her entrance to feel her slickness, to test the soft give of her folds.]

Are you ready for me?

[He knows she is, but he wants to hear her say it.]

[lumberlady]

[How is she supposed to do anything but squirm when his fingers brush through her mane like that, a quiver traveling down her long spine all the way to the tip of her tail in a reaction much like any woman might make if a man ran his fingers through her hair. Just... not on top of her head. A shoulder rises in half-ticklish response to the lips brushing against her neck, but her little laugh is tinged with a soft moan that rolls off her tongue, not just at the promise of his return but for the last squeeze of his hand, the accompanying release of pale milk that stains her dark breast and his strangely veined hands.

The moment he moves away, one of her own hands moves to replace exactly where his had been, as if she might be able to preserve the sensation of his touch to last her through his absence. And even though it might should be strange, the way his scales glitter along his skin, his new proportions, their far different parts... it isn't his body she was looking at. Well, it was, in the midst of her heat like this it very much was, particularly between the legs and how that made her nethers clench with want, but... She's also looking at his face, the promise there and the sparkle in his eye, the parts that made her hearts clench instead.

She's far too easy to tease. All it takes is that press of his length against her skirt-clad rump to make her lashes flutter and her sharp canines dig anxiously into her bottom lip, a more prominent stain from her dripping nethers left behind on the fabric in the shape of his cock. Not for long, though, her tail is freed to flick and rise to bare her to him, and the potpourri was useless now, the scent well and truly overcome by the musky betrayal of her arousal.

An arousal that is far too obvious, far too shameful, but what can she do about it? She'd tried, she really had tried to tend to it herself, her helper in that attempt now hidden in her dresser once more, but now his hands are on her rump, her croup is instinctively levering upwards a bit to try and present the best possible angle for him to "mount", dark velvet outer folds clenching and flaring to expose how wet she was, how her dark bay coat was even darker on her thighs where she's grown sticky, how bright the contrast of fresh pink was to black.

Was she ready? Her lips part and only a whine comes out at first, her body grown greedy and desperate for more, but she had to answer...]

I've been ready for hours...

[No, not just hours. Konoha swallows in anticipation, her hand on her breast squeezing in mimicry of his with a little trickle of milk from between her fingers, the rest whispered with a shameless meeting of his eyes, her own hazy with a mix of lust and reassurance.]

For days, Nikolai...

[Days of growing heat. So if he would just... If he would just take her... Have her... Calm her... Breed her...]

[reznikolai]

[The landscape between her legs is decidedly different from what he's used to. But he doesn't think of her lower regions as belonging to a horse, an animal — they are part of her body and no stranger than his wings or scales or any of the other amendments to his own body. The slickness under his touch is familiar, beckoning him to sink into her. The language of her entire body begs for his touch, from her hand mimicking his at her breast to the upward thrust of her rear. Her heady musk is an intoxicant. What compels him most sharply, though, is the look in her eyes and the words dripping sweetly from her tongue.

He wants to whisper roughly in her ear, kiss her shoulder. But he'll have to settle for bending himself to press his lips to her rump as he continues caressing her folds.]

Then you need not wait a moment longer.

[His hand leaves to take hold of her thigh, and at once the swollen head of his cock takes its place at her entrance. Nikolai starts to push in as promised, gasping as her soft folds yield to him. After days of having to sate himself without indulging in this most basic, most carnal form of pleasure, the clench of her inner muscle around his shaft is as relieving as it is overwhelming. As he buries himself deeper inside her, his fingers curl at her thighs and his sharp claws prick at her flesh. His breath bobs and sinks down into soft groans. There is so much of himself to fit, and so much of her to fill.

Although logically he knows her body is designed to handle precisely the sort of girth he's been gifted, he's still surprised when he's able to push in all the way to the base. He doesn't keep her waiting. She has already waited for too long, lonely and empty and aching. His hips draw back and roll forward, setting a slow but steady rhythm to start with.]

How does it feel? Is my cock enough for you?

[lumberlady]

[It's exactly what she wants to hear. It's also what she wishes for. If only his breath could tickle the shell of her ear, if only he could press his lips to her skin and not just her hide... But she can't have everything, can she, not here... so she has to take what she can. Like the promise of not needing wait, the look on his face as he starts to press inside of her and the groan that accompanies it, nearly lost in her own fitful moan.

She hadn't been exaggerating. She had been stewing in the discomfort of constant arousal for some time now, like every month during breeding season, and her body welcomes him with slick and heat. Not even just in metaphors, it was literally warmer inside of her than a human woman thanks to her kind's higher base body temperature, viscous arousal displaced by his cock welling up to leave strands of sticky stain connecting them even when he first draws back.]

It's-- It's enough... It's more than enough...

[Her answer is a needy gasp, her fingers at her breast mimicking the curl of his grip on her thigh, the little prick of claws that provides the threat of pain but not (yet) the actual cause. Though she's had her share of temporary lovers... they were almost all human, or at least human-shaped, and though the addition of adroit fingers applied to where her swollen clitoris all but begs for attention allowed her to reach the same level of pleasure they could reach more easily through penetration.... There was no denying that the experience must surely be different. For them, as well.]

Is it... Is it enough for you... ?

[She can't not return the question, just to be sure, just to soothe the desperate need in her to please the people she cared enough for to take into her bed, hay though it was. Without a proper mounting by someone more physically her size, her tail is left free to flick even more animatedly unless it's seized, brushing long, dark hair over his chest as Konoha clenches excitedly around him, wriggling her hips a bit to slide back into his slow thrusts as best she could from her position on her belly.

With the way the rest of him looked, (and she's still looking, unwilling yet to tip her head away from watching him over her bare shoulder), she still almost couldn't imagine that he was doing it, but her body clenches eagerly around him, welcomes every inch, because he was, somehow, filling her not as deep as he could but more than deeply enough that the more instinctive parts of her brain were already sparking with excitement for satisfaction, for that feeling of being well-bred that might dull the rest of this heat.

And along the way... Not many humans ever had the chance to experience her tight.]

[reznikolai]

[Her inner heat almost makes him dizzy. The fire crackling underneath his skin and deep in his gut roars louder as he slides in and out of her. He savors the way her slickness clings to him, the way her hips push back against him in hunger. The way Konoha watches him fuck her. His words tumble out breathlessly, then strain tight with an unreleased groan in turn.]

It's enough... All Saints, it's enough, Konoha...

[As her wild tail flicks across his chest, Nikolai threads his fingers through the silky strands to seize her. Just a gentle tug, to test if she likes being handled this way. Consumed by the dragon's instincts, he clamors for more even as his pleasure is fed. His hips push into a faster, reckless rhythm. The friction is increased by the subtle ridges of the underside of his cock, dragging against her inner wall. The room steadily fills with his deep groans of satisfaction, the soft slap of his ball sack against her.]

I want you to squeeze your tits...and imagine my hands on you. Will you do that for me?

[Another tug on her tail, and a squeeze of her thigh, as if to remind her of just how capable his hands are.]

[lumberlady]

[It's enough.

That reassurance is all she needs, and to have it come in that drawn out, draconic rumble of a tone makes her shudder and moan in relief, tightening up around him in a sudden clamp around his cock. Or no, that... was very likely tied far more directly to the tug on her tail, gentle enough not to hurt but more than enough to feel, to give hints of an illusion that despite the vast differences in their physical size and strengths that he was the one with the power.

That for now, wrapped up in the instinctual urge to find a mate, be mounted and bred, she gladly surrenders. The dock of her tail seized in his grip trembles as she awkwardly levers up her rump to urge him to press him from an angle slightly more reminiscent of having a stallion's weight settled on her back. The ridges of his cock her tongue had traced so affectionately not moments before now rubbed so tantalizingly inside her that she can't help but buck, even from that low position on her belly.]

I will...

[His request is such an easy one to grant, when it plays right into what she wished he could do, what he had done, that lost festival moment when his arms had wrapped around her from behind. She relies on the taut muscles of her core to keep her upper half upright in order to use both hands, not just the one, sliding them up her stomach to cup her breasts in mimicry of how he'd touched her, squeezing until she pulls a series of whimpers and a surge of sweetly-scented milk from herself (or no, he did- ? And if that were the case-)]

Nikolai, how-- How do you know just what I like... ?

[She finds it in her to try and laugh, suddenly struck with just a dash of humor in the incongruous fit of their bodies even in her desperation for pleasure and satisfaction, though the sound is more breathless and more aching moan than giggle as "he" switches to pinching at dusky nipples, tweaking the taut, slick nubs in time with his thrusts to add another layer of pleasure building in her bellies.]

If I knew... What you liked...

[She could do something for him that wasn't simply putting on a show and being able to take his cock. So surely... He would tell her. He'd do that for her.]

[reznikolai]

[What does he like? He likes the sudden squeeze of her inner walls around him when he tugs at her tail, the shift in angle that shows how she's enjoying herself. He likes the way she so willingly obeys his desires. He likes watching her play with her own breasts, the soft flesh so pliant under her fingers, the sweet scent of her milk tangling with the musk of her heat. He likes knowing that it's him that she thinks of while she touches herself.]

Will you beg for me?

[It's a desire he's never given voice to. He has always been greedy for praise from his partner, for affirmation of their enjoyment whether in words or inchoate noises — and what is this, if not the same seed, fed and fattened?

Nikolai deliberately slows his hips to an agonizing pace — until when he draws back, instead of delving deep once more, he simply pauses at the apex. The effort to fight against his own desires strains him, as betrayed by his erratic breath. The pulse of manna and the instincts entwined with his veins urge him to continue pounding into her, but there's a thrill in this suspense. In abstaining now to enjoy more deeply later.]

Beg for me to keep filling you... Beg for my cock...

[lumberlady]

[Will she?

There’s a moment after his words dissipate into the electric-charged air in between them, when he slows and her body attempts to tighten about his cock and keep him in her, when that fails and a frustrated whine slips out of her throat, that it isn’t clear yet if she will. She had no problem at all with coaxing and praise, asking for what she wanted (needed), she’d demonstrated that clearly already, but begging?]

Nikolai, please don’t-

[Apparently she didn’t have a single problem with that. The first words tumble out in a gasp as she instinctively tries to draw him back in, attempting to writhe back onto him. But though her back legs splay awkwardly, tail swishes anxiously several times back and forth across his chest, forelegs stretch out uselessly and find nothing to push off of… it isn’t an easy feat for a woman of her shape to move like that once properly down on her belly. It leaves her reliant on him, and if he was denying her-]

Please don’t leave me like this…

[Then she has no problem at all with shamelessly begging for him to relieve her, her voice breaking with whimpers when her fingers pinch, a taut nipple punished in his place until she slips off the pale slick and instead adjusts her hold so that with each desperate pound of her hearts she can rub over it with her thumb, as if that could compare at all to what she’s lost with his hips stilled.]

I need-

[It seemed she still did hesitate a bit with more lewd, more direct phrasing, but for him, asking it of her like that?]

I need your cock… You’re so warm, Nikolai, you’re so much better than those- those fake ones… No matter how much I tried-

[Perhaps he had guessed it already, but she still admits to what she’d been doing before he arrived, what was in the box that she’d so hastily tried to hide away, a wanting moan quivering on her lips before she lets it out and hangs her head, panting a moment to regain her breath before she looks back over her shoulder at him nearly teary with untended desire, part of it an act to return the favor and part of it a bit too real.]

Fill me… Oh, please, Nikolai… as deep as you can…

[Deep enough and full enough to convince her body to stop burning. To give her hearts just enough affection to sustain her more weeks in this place without anyone to wake up to beside.]

[reznikolai]

[The thrill of being wanted, of being so acutely needed, seizes Nikolai and holds him aloft. She looks beautiful like that, scrabbling to push herself onto him but finding no purchase, twisting to look back at him, every inch of her begging for his touch. She sounds beautiful, her voice aching around every word. Greedily, he drinks in the sight of her, gorges himself on every delicious whimper.

In the end, he cannot hold himself back for long. His desire to satisfy her conquers his desire to tantalize — and his own need is growing so hot as to be searing. His voice is smoky with it.]

You've been so good, Konoha...

[So he pushes deeper inside, slowly at first, to let her feel each inch of him. He massages steadying circles into her thighs, and he curls a hand around her leg to find her entrance, the slick folds hooding it. As he fills her again, he teases at her clit. Careful, gentle, mindful of his dragon claws.]

I'll give you what you want... [Faster now, his hips resuming their rolling rhythm, building back up to the frenzied pace of before.] That's a good girl.

[lumberlady]

[It turns out begging is worth it, particularly in the depths of a breeding rut left unsatisfied for so long. The praise he provides in turn, those curling, smoky syllables that sounds so appropriate with those scales and leathery wings, is more than enough to make her shiver. When he provides what she needs, slow and torturous to remind her that this week, he is enough for her physically, she lets out an aching moan, and when his claws tease so very carefully at her heat-swollen nerves that moan swings into a needy whimper, her back legs twitching uselessly in the hay, one hoof kicking out.

Thankfully, to the side and not into him.

Though she manages to keep one hand at her breast, teasing herself as well as him, the other she needs to brace herself, fingers curling in the hay as others slick in wasted milk, her voice rising to the satisfying, pounding pace of his hips snapping into her rump. More little pleas fall from her lips, a mind addled with season all too willing to beg, and not just because he'd asked.]

Nikolai... Give it to me, please... All of it, I can take it- I want it-

[Nevermind that she might be one of the only women who could take that right now. What mattered more was that she was so close, that she can feel his own pace begin to grow uneven on the edge, and she doesn't want to hold back. Even if he can't reach her like she wishes, all of her, that was, instinct still drives her to let her heavy hair shift over one shoulder so that she might bare her neck for him to bite into, missing the sensation of forelegs clutching and teeth nipping but consoling herself with the tug of tail and the flick of fingers. It's too easy to let her body clench tight as if to trap him within her, satisfied enough with his human and draconic traits not to fear he'd round her belly but her body didn't need to know that-

It just needed to cum, loud and messy with a little spurt of musky arousal onto his cock and fingers, a cry echoing into the empty barn as her long spine arches and she urges him to breed her.

And then to come back to her (the part of her that can kiss and hold) like he'd promised.]

[reznikolai]

[As his movements grow wilder, tilting into a frenetic desperation, a hunger that only increases the more it's fed — as together they lurch closer to sharp peak of pleasure — the world narrows. First to the heat of her body holding him tight, the slick slide of her against his cock, the pleading whimpers spilling from her throat. Then to the pressure squeezing deep inside him, tighter and sharper, until all of her shudders around him.

There comes a feeling like unhitching from himself. His hips stutter for a second, his breath catches on a moan that's half growl. He pushes through his orgasm, unflagging as he fills Konoha with his seed.]

Saints— Fuck— You can have it...

[Until at last he falls still. Spent despite the surge of manna flushing him, Nikolai folds over her rump, laying his cheek against her croup as he catches his breath. His loose grip on her thighs holds him there.

But he doesn't stay for long. As promised, once he withdraws from her, and gives her tail one last teasing tug, he repositions himself. All the better to kiss her, to savor her breasts. That's what he does first: rest his head between her breasts to lap at her milk-stained skin.]

I told you I would take care of you...

[lumberlady]

[Honestly... she's kind of impressed. Nikolai must not be used to... ahem, "giving" in such an amount, but she is certainly used to accepting it. Though she was a bit fastidious about her cleanliness on a normal day, avoiding any comparison to a more equine beast by keeping her coat clean, her hooves picked, and her tail untangled... In a heat she revels in the mess, mewling softly, happily, when he pulls free of a body reluctant to release him, feeling the proof of their coupling smeared on sensitive flesh and dribbling down her back leg.

The warm, full feeling has her more than satisfied for now, eager to roll a bit onto her side from where she'd collapsed after the exhaustive efforts towards pleasure. More than eager to welcome him back to her arms, her hands smooth over sweaty shoulders and into his hair as his tongue laves over the pale stains on her dark flesh, making her upper spine arch to present herself for the tasting with a throaty hum.]

Ahhh... You did... You did...

[Both tell her and also manage it. Even if she's already cum she can't help but squirm with physical delight under his attentions, her fingers curling to tighten just a bit in his hair in subconscious attempt to guide him towards the taut dusky nipple she'd been teasing in his absence. The last time she'd...

Wait. Had it been on a beach, the last time she'd achingly coaxed her excess out by herself? Except no, she hadn't been totally by herself, had she, someone else had been... there... Had that person been...

As an inconveniently-timed realization slowly begins creeping into the forefront of her mind, her voice grows a bit distracted.]

Nikolaimmm... Can I ask you a question... ?

[reznikolai]

[Nikolai drifts along on the languid current of post-release mellowness, a dazzling haze that's like the smoke that lingers after the fire has burned itself out. He sits splayed amid the tangle of her forelegs, lapping at her breasts, cradling her waist. But even as he indulges in her, he knows, somewhere in the back of his mind but sharpening gradually, this is the last time. The knowledge of why returns as the draconic instincts curl up for sleep, sated to a softer state.

Suddenly, he can't quite explain what brought him to this current moment. Something knots up inside him.]

What is it?

[Uncharacteristically quiet, farther away than before. His mouth has stilled, but he doesn't lift his head from the pillow of her chest yet.]

[lumberlady]

[There are two things... two things that are beginning to coalesce from the hazy, magically drunken memories of the handfasting nights of Marilla beach. The woman she'd been speaking to... What had she said-]

You're not, ah...

[Her body doesn't betray any discomfort, not just because she doesn't yet quite fully believe those hazy images and sensations and words, but also because of her own situation, her rather simple-minded assumption that certain things in this place meant certain other things, and just like she and her husband had negotiated in Lunatia...

But as her fingers continue to card through his hair and invite him to nestle in the soft warmth of her bosom, as her forelegs curl at his hips in attempt to mimic how human-shaped people might fit together...]

You're not a... king of something, are you... ?

[Her tone invites him to laugh such a thing off with her. He was just a ship's captain, right? How much had she drunk at those handfastings, anyway?]

[reznikolai]

[He wasn't sure what question to anticipate, but it certainly wasn't that. Nikolai does chuckle quietly, but it's the laugh of a man who has been caught. More like a sigh, really. Lifting his head, he looks up at her with a lazy grin.]

Did I neglect to mention that I'm the king of Ravka?

[Of course he's perfectly aware that he mentioned no such thing to her. He had let her believe the partial truth that he's a ship's captain simply because it wasn't necessary for her to know his titles. Revealing his status when they first met would have only installed distance between them. But now, with his seed stickying her hindquarters, and her milk sweet on his lips...it's far too late for deference.

Although the truth is now out there, the irony is that he's back to playing a role. With his grin he hides his abashment, the darkening tilt of his thoughts now that he is — despite the wings still folded at his back and the tail still swishing indolently behind him — more man than beast. His hands rest lightly on her bare skin, but to him they feel heavy.]

[lumberlady]

[Okay, he is laughing... but it isn't the "what a crazy thing you said just now, Konoha!", it's definitely more a "you caught me", which. She probably should have sorted out how she felt about this beforehand, and she would have... except for the fact that she hadn't actually remembered it. But there's space now between breaths for the amount of time she usually dedicates to such things, and her gut says... warm, satisfied, well taken care of...]

I think you forgot, yeah...

[Thankfully, that brings a tiny hint of a laugh to her own lips, so she finds... She isn't mad. People had lots of reasons for hiding things from their own world, and that sort of status seemed like one that made sense to be a bit careful with...

For a moment, she does debate what to say, though, unable to blush but doing her best attempt as she gently sweeps a few more strands of damp hair from his face, floating in the post-coital haze between sleepy and sullen heat urge to do more. Somewhere in between, just dulled enough that she hasn't noticed something she should. Yet.]

Do I need to keep it a secret... ? I think Alina was handfast drunk when she told me... I mean, I was, too, pretty sure, because now that I'm thinking about it I also seem to recall some groping, but...

[They had ended up covering different topics other than whether the King of Ravka's presence in this place was a secret to many or just a secret to some. Mainly how she could have had a stellar career in wet nursery and how amazing someone named Zoya's breasts were. Another topic left uncovered... The nature of arrangement between the two of them. Because surely... They'd discussed such things, right? After that dinner...]

[reznikolai]

[Nikolai maintains a polite smile, not wanting Konoha to think that he regrets their entanglement. The last thing he wants is to hurt her feelings after she's bared so much to him — not just her body, but her loneliness.

Still floating back to himself as he is, he isn't sure if this is a mistake he would undo if he could. She was in an uncomfortable position, and he helped her in a way nobody else could. That much of his logic was sound, even if it was dictated by the dragon's wild instincts.

But Nikolai can't quite disguise the way his countenance clouds over at the mention of Alina. Suddenly, her name stings. He would have to tell her. He would have to do the right thing. Would the truth hurt more or less than a lie?

Catching himself slipping, he puts the smile back in place.]

No, it's not exactly a secret... I just tend not to throw my titles around unless I have reason to do so. For the record, I wasn't lying about being captain of a ship. There was just a little bit more to the truth.

[That seems important to mention now...]