Waking the Dragon Ch. 02

"She asked about the girl," he answered, unable to lie to her as she continued teasing his root. It pushed roughly against his pants, yearning to be free. He watched as Matayla lifted her skirts, revealing the blonde apex of her legs. He licked his lips hungrily as she opened her glistening lips. "She's been recently wounded," he said in a rush, hoping that piece of information would provide him with the reward he desired.

She pulled her foot away and he almost made a noise in disappointment but resisted. Matayla stood and looked at him expectantly. He rose and began working the eyes and hooks that latched her robes together. He was panting with frustration by the time he had worked all the heavy velvet gown open. He pushed it from her shoulders and laid it over the divan. Matayla's body was angular but her breasts were large. She was not as lithe as the Dragon, but the light on her pale skin and white hair served to cast a spell on anyone watching her. Gryph knew she was tight and her legs would wrap around her lover's hips in a vise. He felt his manhood jerk in anticipation and a wet spot appeared at the peak of the tent.

He bowed his head and licked her large pink nipples, his strong tongue lifting her heavy breasts. He filled his mouth with her breast, his tongue working over the puckered flesh until she moaned softly. She lifted her leg and began rubbing her naked thigh against his throbbing cock. He bit her flesh as a wave of pleasure rippled through him. The wet spot grew larger and he longed to free himself from the prison of the britches. His hands hung limply at his side as he suckled her breast. The friction of her thigh against his length caused a delightful heat that stirred a deep groan in Gryph's throat.

Matayla put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him to his knees. She sat on the edge of the bed and laid back, opening her long legs and beckoning him to her. He crawled over the short distance and leaned forward to dip his tongue in her moist slit. His tongue swept through her, swirling in and out and circling her swollen nub. She lay back on the bed, propped herself on her elbows, and moaned soft encouragement. Her powerful thighs wrapped around his head, pulling him deeper. He lapped against her, scooping and thrusting in and out with his tongue. She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled until Gryph thought it would come out, but her thighs did not release him from the sweet smelling prison.

He felt her inner muscles spasm against his tongue a moment before she pushed him away. He panted for breath as she scooted up on the bed. He sat back on his heels, watching her move and longing to bury himself to the hilt with the sword throbbing between his legs. She propped herself on the pillows at the head of the bed and gave him an expectant look. He came to his feet and quickly removed his tunic. His chest was smooth and well-muscled from the manual labor he did in the palace. Matayla smiled in approval, her ice eyes dropping down to the vaulted pants. His trembling fingers unlaced the britches and his manhood popped into the warm room.

He pushed the trousers down his legs and resisted the urge to stroke himself. He knew if he gave into his primal urges that everything would stop. She would use the whip on him in her frustration and he would not be invited back to the chamber for a long period of time. Instead, he stood at the foot of the bed, his long root pointing against his stomach. In the throes of passion, Matayla had complimented his size, leading him to believe he was bigger than Eton. His presence in the chamber tonight was a symbol of her preference to him over the virile captain.

He also knew that most nights, the girl fulfilled Matayla's basic needs. He wondered where the girl was that night but did not ask in fear it would cost him his reward. He assumed the Queen had sent the girl away for some punishment. He would like to think that the Queen had dismissed the girl tonight in favor of him. Even if that was true, it was in favor of the information he might have gathered from the Dragon. Based on the Dragon's questions and the long, silent exchange between the warrior and the girl, Gryph thought the girl might be the better choice for a spy. The Queen didn't trust the girl, though, so it was up to Gryph to be the informant.

"Come, boy," Matayla said huskily. "Mount up."

Gryph climbed onto the bed, licking the Queen's damp slit one more time before moving to bite each of her nipples. He then stretched out over her and positioned his thick cock at the opening he had tasted. The swollen mushroom head popped into the tight opening and he groaned with pleasure as her inner walls squeezed around him. He lay very still for a moment, feeling her muscles clench and squeeze him. He extended his arms above her, waiting until her body adjusted to his length and girth. His sacs rested against her mound and when he moved slightly, they slapped against her.

"That's it, boy," she growled, wrapping her legs around his hips. They squeezed about him, locking him in position as he began sliding his long shaft in and out of her tight canal. They rocked in a steady rhythm, his hips an endless piston with the sole purpose of pushing her higher and driving himself deeper. Their stomachs slapped together, punctuating each deep, quick thrust. He grunted with each downward motion, every muscle in his body rippling and tense with the effort to not release his body until she found her own release. If he spurted before she screamed out, he would be pushed out of the bed without being allowed to finish. She would secure him to the chains that hung on the wall so he couldn't cheat and proceed to lay on the bed and pleasure herself. Worse, she might call Eton or the girl back to finish the job.

Her long nails scraped his back, making long red welts and drawing blood in a few places. He bit his lip and did not howl as her thighs locked his body in the cradle of her hips. He rocked so that his long shaft scraped her thick bud. He could see her eyes glaze over and her body start trembling and knew she was about to finish. He moved faster, slamming into her as rapidly as he could. His sacs slapped her mound and their stomachs rubbed. Both bodies were covered with a fine blanket of sweat. She reared up and bit his neck. Blood spilled into her mouth and he screamed, shooting long streams of his seed into the Queen's body.