The Dragon Prince's Consort

Twenty-Eight

"My- Fang," Valen's arms wrapped around her, his hands squeezing gently, "Fang, you're shaking - are you all right?"

Fang took a breath, regaining control of her body. "Uh, yeah, I'm good!" She blinked hard, clearing the tears from her eyes. "Are you okay? That was, um, intense."

"Hngh, yes, but..." he groaned softly as a secondary shudder rippled through his stomach and thighs. "You screamed, I thought I hurt you."

"Oh no, it's happened before." Which was true, but not the emotional revelation that had preceded it. "I'm fine, Valen." She squeezed his neck and shoulders, needing something to grip while her heart burned like kindling. I am not fine, this wasn't supposed to happen! Fang - and other women she knew who would accept money in exchange for their company - knew the unspoken rule of the job was to never fall for a client, and to break that rule meant courting disaster. And yet, hadn't Valen just told her of a way to keep her close, even if he didn't feel the same? The mantle of Lady Consort would provide a cocoon of protection as well as, perhaps, time to work through this new and upsetting suite of emotions and wear them out before she left for good.

Valen hugged her back, and Fang weakened at the familiar press of his scales on her chest and belly. Still buried inside her his cock pulsed warm and slow and Fang narrowed her attention down on the sensation of the scales surrounding its base and the rows of ridged scales along the top. That's why it feels so good, it's the texture. And the fact that Valen always seemed so eager to please her. He's a good sub, way better than most I've met. It was funny in a way, one of the five most powerful Drass alive not just allowing a small human woman to direct him in the bedroom (or in this case the couch) but enjoying it to the point that he had asked her for it.

"Fang?"

"Mm?"

"Um..." his ears brushed hers as they folded back, "I'd like to stay like this, but... My leggings are-"

"Oh! Sorry," Fang pushed up and off, wincing at the slick heat that trickled down her thighs. Not like I need it to stay warm tonight. She shivered to think of the conditions outside, the snow and wind that cut like an ice blade; how lucky she was, then, to have an enormous bed, a fireplace, and a Drass to keep her cozy. However bittersweet that coziness would be in the end.

"So... I'm not doing anything else today," Valen said, rolling his leggings off. "Other than thinking about my proposal, I mean. And I happen to need a bath now..." He sent her a hopeful look and Fang's chest caved at her eagerness to join him. He's not wrong, though. I'm all sticky too. She said she would join him, and Valen broke into one of his pleased if not a little surprised smiles. As if he still couldn't quite believe Fang was really willing. It's only been a month, he's not used to it yet. Only a month... Is that really all it had been? It seemed a lifetime ago Fang had gone to sleep most nights without eating, her clothes threadbare and her shoes so worn she'd been lining them with pieces of rags, food-wrappers or other scraps. Now she could open her "closet" and look over silk robes, soft leggings and pairs upon pairs of warm boots, delicate slippers and darling little heels, all hers to keep.

While Valen splashed into the steaming pool that served as their bath Fang made her way in slower, and when she found him looking at her with an odd appreciation - his eyes wandered up and down her body, and the corner of his mouth pulled up as he took it all in. "What?"

The Drass cocked his head, looking pleased. "You've gained weight."

"Did you just call me fat?" Fang pretended to be offended and splashed him. But he was right, she had noticed the change too - mostly in her face and hips. Her cheeks were fuller now, giving some softness to her features, and her thighs seemed less narrow. She looked better now than she had in a long time, now that she was at a healthier weight, and she had Valen to thank for it.