"Mmm...mmm..."
Demond's breath hitched, her robes were half-undone, as the Dragon's scaled arms felt up to her gardens.
Adrei leaned back and smiled. Squeeze, squelch, pull. Familiar sensation. Familiar whimperings.
They needed no words except a willing submission and a satisfactory dominance.
The cherry was scratched back and forth as Adrei watched Demond writhe under her. The messy robe portrayed the Witch as an innocent maiden and the Dragon as the pillager of that innocence.
Another pull. Another gasp. And the tongue invaded her.
Lips smacked together to form a sweet melody, wet softness melting together, splashing a comforting melody that echoed in each other's souls.
Amid this blessed intrusion, a name called out.
"Adrei..."
The Dragon tongue shivered, before protruding deeper.
Not enough. Until she could bury the passion in her chest and mouth, until her very soul was smothered by her passion, every bit of her wife must be tasted thoroughly.
