The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

He growled against her pussy....a sound of satisfaction, of need, of absolute possession. His fingers came up, and without warning, without preamble, he slid one thick finger inside her.

Morgana’s back arched completely off the bed.

The finger inside her moved slowly at first, feeling her, finding the angle that made her breath catch and her muscles clench around him. Then he added another finger. The stretch was immediate, the sensation overwhelming. She gasped, her body responding with absolute honesty, her muscles clenching around his fingers as if trying to hold him deeper inside her.

”Relax,” he said against her pussy, his breath hot against her. ”Let me in, Morgana.”

He didn’t wait for her to comply. His fingers began to move inside her, a slow, deliberate pace that had her entire body responding. His mouth returned to her clit, sucking, licking, driving her toward another orgasm with single-minded focus. The sensations were layering on top of each other.....his mouth, his fingers, the absolute focus of his attention on her pleasure.

She was climbing again. Climbing fast. The sensations were too much, the way his tongue worked her clit, the way his fingers moved inside her, the way his entire being was focused solely on her pleasure.

And then his fingers heated.

Not enough to hurt. Just enough to surprise her. Enough to make her cry out. The warmth of his fingers inside her created a new sensation, a new layer of intensity. She looked down and saw him watching her, his dark eyes burning as he watched her response to him, his gaze never leaving her face as his fingers continued their work.

”Feel that?” he asked, his voice muffled against her flesh. ”Feel what I do to you?”

She couldn’t answer. Could only gasp. Could only respond as his fingers continued to move inside her, as his mouth continued to work her clit, as the warmth of his fingers created sensations she’d never experienced before.

She was close. So close. The orgasm was building, was about to crest, was about to destroy her and remake her.

And then he pulled back.

His mouth left her clit. His fingers stilled inside her. She made a sound of protest, her hips trying to follow him, trying to regain the contact, trying to reach the climax that was so close it was almost painful.

He raised his head.

His fingers slowly withdrew from inside her. He stood between her legs, his cock hard and ready, his dark eyes burning as he looked at her. His hand came to his cock, and he began to stroke himself slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

”Look at you,” he said, his voice low and rough. ”Completely desperate for me. Completely open. Completely mine.”

Before she could respond, before she could even process what was happening, he moved his hand away from his cock and aligned himself with her entrance. The tip of him pressed against her, and her eyes flew open.

She looked at him, really looked at him. At the size of him. At the reality of what was about to happen. Her eyes glued on his dick, taking in the way it was hard, with pre-cum bidding the tip.

”It won’t,” she whispered, her voice uncertain, almost afraid. ”It won’t fit in.”

He smiled.

”Trust me,” he said, his voice dropping lower, becoming almost tender despite the intensity burning in his eyes. ”It will.”

And then he began to push inside her.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Letting her feel every inch of him as he entered. The stretch was immediate, was intense, was almost too much. She gasped, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave marks. Her entire body tensed, trying to adjust to the reality of his size, to the fullness of him, to the completeness of his claiming.

”Breathe,” he commanded, his voice gentle despite the intensity of what was happening. ”Just breathe, Morgana. Your body knows what to do.”

He continued to slide inside her, taking his time, letting her body adjust to the fullness of him. She could feel every ridge of him, every inch, the absolute reality of his size, his presence, his claiming. His hands gripped her hips, steady and sure, holding her in place as he continued the slow invasion.

When he was fully inside her, he paused.

For just a moment, he held himself there, completely sheathed inside her, and his dark eyes met hers. There was something almost reverent in that look, something ancient and possessive that went beyond physical possession, something that felt like it was claiming not just her body but her soul.

Then he bent down, and his mouth found hers.

He kissed her....deep and in a possessive way. His tongue moved inside her mouth with the same kind of focus and intensity he’d used elsewhere, and she responded without thinking, kissing him back with desperation, with need, with absolute surrender.

Against her lips, he whispered, ”Spread your legs wider, Morgana. Give me more access.”

She did.

Her legs spread wider, opening more completely, and immediately he began to move.

Not slowly anymore. His hips began to thrust, his movements becoming more intense, more desperate. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he claimed her completely. Each thrust drove deeper, drove harder, drove her higher with each movement.

Her breath became gasps. Her body responded to him with absolute honesty, her muscles clenching around him, her hips meeting his thrusts, her entire being focused on the sensation of him inside her.

”That’s it,” he growled, his movements becoming more intense. ”Take it. Take all of me. Feel how much I want you.”

He continued like that....hard, relentless, completely focused on both his pleasure and hers. His hands never left her hips, using them to control the angle, to control the depth, to ensure that each thrust went exactly where he wanted it to go, that each movement drove her higher.