Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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A week passed and Muriel found each day with the red dragon brought her varying degrees of irritation. When he wasn't bothering her with endless monologues on each piece of treasure in his hoard, he was dressing her up like a doll with every fine piece of clothing in his storerooms—they hadn't even gotten through half of them. And when it came time for her medicine, the stubborn ass wouldn't do it any other way but his. Essentially, she could either grind on his tongue till completion, or he could put her in his mouth again.

The whore was using her fear of his mouth to his advantage. But it turned out glaring into his draconic eyes while she used his tongue for her pleasure was erotic for them both.

Though during the moments of peace in between, she had to admit it was nice to spend it in his company. It was in those pockets of time that she could see past the humorously narcissistic traits and into the soul beneath.

She listened as he shared that he was one of four brothers hatched from the same clutch. Both his parents were from the northern mountains, descended from a long line of pure blood fire dragons. He'd been expected to take over a part of his father's territory, but he felt stifled by the high expectations—trapped on a path he never wanted. So, as a young, rebellious dragon, he went off on his own. Now middle-aged 180 years later, he'd never returned. But many years were inconsequential to a dragon who's lifespan stretched so long. He would see them again someday.

In turn, he listened to her when she shed light on her old life—the tragic story of a poor orphan girl, looked down upon by the village she was left in. Muriel found herself smiling when she told him of Harriet and Agatha. Sharing the good moments soothed the sting of missing them.

To her surprise, she even told him how she'd imagined her parents. It wasn't something she told anyone before, but with the earnest way he listened, it poured right out of her. Like a bad bout of the runs.

A terrible analogy.

"Kind, selfless, and strong?" Akryos hummed, the sound a deep reverberation in his chest.

His head rested near where she reclined on ridiculously extravagant silk pillows with designs of gold woven in. They were in another one of his many cavernous rooms. This one had been cleared out a little—save for stacks of dusty books—for them to use as a makeshift lounge.

The hot puffs of air from his slitted nostrils were a constant annoyance. She brushed stray hairs out of her face yet again and nodded. "It might be silly, but it's all I have of them. Even if it isn't real."

A whisper of a secret swam in the depths of those molten eyes. Dark, but gone in a blink. "Nothing you could say with such openness would ever be silly to me. I think it is a beautiful way to honor them. I confess... the more I learn of you, the more I find myself falling deeper under your spell."

Muriel scoffed, amusement lifting her brows. "My spell? No, you've got it confused from all those feathers in your brain. Agatha is the one with the spells."

"You pretend to misunderstand me," he grumbled, lifting his large head to peer down his snout at her in a playful manner.

"Just as you pretend to be a dragon when you're really a peacocking whore."

"I'm determined to be both."

She rolled her eyes. "A true overachiever. Be still my beating heart."

"What happened to being kind?" he retorted with a mirthful snort. "You're missing one of those desired qualities, oh small one. Perhaps you should practice with me. Then I could reward you..."

Her nose wrinkled, even as her cheeks darkened. "I don't think I have to be kind to someone who makes questionable deals. And besides, I doubt I'd like your 'rewards'."

Akryos chuckled, lowering his head to her level. "You've liked them so far."

"Go eat a skunk." She whacked his snout with a pillow.

He sneezed daintily from the dust cloud that puffed from its fibers. She sneezed like a horse three times as the cloud billowed over to her.

Muriel sniffled, rubbing her nose. "If we could get those feathers out of your brain, then maybe we could give this place a much needed dusting."

"I've never had guests before." He sounded almost embarrassed at the admission as he plucked up a pillow between two claws, trying to pat the dust from the tiny thing. "But you are not a guest. You are my life mate. I should have properly prepared our nest for you."

Muriel gave him an exasperated look. "I'm not your life mate."

"As my life mate, you deserve a clean home. And all the riches you could ever want," he continued, returning the pillow and grabbing another.

"It's really fine. I'm not your life mate."

"I must apologize for being so unprepared, as I had no idea my life mate would arrive quite suddenly at my door."

"A door that doesn't exist. Like your life mate."

He finally caught her eye and acknowledged her words with a pointed expression. "Hmm. I've never had a treasure in my hoard grumble so loudly."

She glared at him.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a sharp smirk—frightening on a dragon's visage. "At least you won't deny being my treasure."

"It was a stupid thing to say that doesn't deserve a response." She crossed her arms and turned her face away. "I'm not one of your pretty trinkets. I'm Muriel. You don't have any claim over me."

"My Muriel."

"No, not yours. Not ever."

The draconic smirk slowly faded. When she glanced at him out of the corner of her view, her stomach flipped at the serious, sincere expression he leveled her with. There was a heavy force behind it; something suffocatingly possessive that had only grown stronger the longer she was around him.

Something deeper, something darker, roiled in the eye of the storm contained in that Fire Lily gaze. It lay in wait with all the patience of a predator who knew his prey would always be doomed to fall into his jaws. Like fate had twisted them up together in its blood red string, uncaring of the consequences.

But then the mask slipped back into place, a cheerful light smoothing the harsh angles of his face as he smiled. "That's what you think now. But you'll see someday that I'm right. We were destined to be together."

"As you've said before," she grumbled, choosing to ignore the strange moment.

Akryos flicked the pillow back to her pile and stood to his feet. "You can expect to hear it many more times. Now come." He turned, curling his neck around to look at her over his wing. "It's time for your medicine."

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The red dragon glanced at her outstretched hand, perplexed. They stood on his mountain of gold, the glittering treasure a constant temptation, pulling her to admire and adore.

"I'm not doing it your way this time. Just lick my hand. That should be enough." Her jaw clenched, holding back the private reason she had to refuse.

His head tilted, viewing her curiously. "Sure, it would be enough, but a whole lot less fun."

"I don't need any fun today." She could already feel her face burning at the thought of it. "Do it my way this time. It's only fair."

A gravelly, beastly sound rolled from his chest as his head descended to her body. She shifted uncomfortably, coins sliding as she took a step back. He nudged her belly, which earned him a swat to the nose.

"Cut that out."

He only nudged lower. "You think your monthly cycle deters me?"

Muriel froze, turning beet red. She swatted harder. "I don't care what you want, you pervert! You keep your face away from me!"

The thought of him tasting her blood, even in a small amount proportionally, nearly made her gag. Not sexy.

He let out a long, drawn out sigh, finally lifting his head away from her. "Alright. I will wait till your bleeding is done. At least for that particular activity."

Her gaze narrowed. "You better not try anything else on me. I'm warning you, I'm not in the mood."

A wicked light glittered in his eyes. "Take off your clothes."

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. "No. I told you, I'm not in the mood."

Talons grabbed her and she yelped. The world shifted until she found herself looking down at him. He was on his back, his tail swaying like a contented cat against his coins. His wings reclined, blanketed wide across the gold.

He set her down to stand on his chest and she nearly stumbled trying to adjust to the steady rise and fall under her bare feet. The point of a claw touched her back and she flinched as it trailed down.

"Are you in pain?" he asked softly, blinking at her with concern in those big, mischievous eyes.

Her brow furrowed at the unexpected question. "At the moment it is dull."

"Hmm." The claw hooked in her skirt, giving a light tug. "I have an idea I think you might like. Considering the way you looked at it before..."

The drumbeat of her heart picked up its pace. "Keep your ideas to yourself. Help me down, I want to rest."

"You'll get your rest. But you'll have to earn it, first." He tugged again, harder. "Take off your clothes."

Her jaw ached at this point. Knowing there was no escape, she unlaced her borrowed red dress, letting it fall off her shoulders to pool at her feet. She stripped until her undergarments and makeshift menstrual cloth remained.

"Go on," Akryos urged when she stopped.

The nerve of this dragon astounded her. "No. I'll make a mess on you, and I'd rather not."

"I already planned to make a mess on myself. Better on me than the gold, don't you think?" He winked.

Muriel shook her head. "You're disgusting."

"Not if I clean in the river right after."

"Animals drink from that river, you ass."

"And fish pee in it. Are you going to fuss at them, too?"

She dropped the rest of her clothes with a huff. "I can't wait till the curse is broken. Then I'll never have to deal with you again."

"Yes. I'll be too busy hunting for your cravings, since you'll be fat with many young."

She scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes devoured her. "You wish. I'll be far away from here. Far away from you."

The darkness in his eyes deepened tenfold. Her heart stuttered in the silence extending wider between them. Maybe she shouldn't have provoked him while standing naked and at his mercy.

But then he moved, his eyes still holding hers captive as he brought a forepaw to his mouth. His tongue slithered out, laving his palm thick with saliva.

What was he going to do? Grab her with it instead of putting her into his mouth? All to cop a feel, no doubt.

Once lathered enough, his massive forepaw came towards her. She stiffened. But it only brushed past, journeying lower. Her eyes widened.

When the dragon's lids fluttered and his breath hitched beneath her feet, she knew where it landed. Her lips parted as she stood there like a statue, at a loss for words. She couldn't dream of speaking under the weighted heat that fell over her body with the way he was looking at her. With the way she knew he was touching himself to her.

Muriel fought the traitorous urge to turn around and see.

The vibration of his low moan shot up her body, tingling in her core. Her nipples pebbled, and she told herself it was just the cool air of the cavern. But she didn't feel cold. Not with the fire licking through her veins.

His eyes, black centers blown wide, caught every change of her body. As did his nose. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw his movements quicken.

"Look at it," Akryos grunted, breathless. "I want you to watch me. I want you to see what you do to me."

She swallowed hard. Unable to resist any longer, she turned.

Throbbing. Thick. Strangled in his grasp. It was more red than she remembered, veins pulsing as his tight grip glided up and down.

A shuddering moan escaped him, causing her to slip further down the hill of his chest. Closer to the towering appendage. Her eyes traveled slowly over it, from the glistening tip and down.

She never noticed before—a bulb at the base. The tortured groan he let out when he gave it a squeeze was felt through his whole body.

"When I take you," he breathed, sounding more desperate by the second, "this knot will swell. It will lock us together—make us one. And you will feel me deep inside your womb."

His words, and the thoughts they spawned in her mind, sent a jolt of arousal to her sex. She winced at the sudden cramp it was coupled with. But she was past the point of letting pain stop her now.

Muriel wanted him. She wanted to experience what he described. Maybe it was some primal instinct, heightened in a dragon, but just for that moment she didn't care.

"Are you in the mood now?" he purred, teasing seduction thick in his tone.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Where are you going with this, anyway? I thought you said it was time for my 'medicine'."

His grin was rakish. "I did." He nodded towards the terrifying thing in his hold, slick with spit. "Why don't you get closer and find out?"

She paused before facing forward once more. A small thread of fear tangled with her arousal. Did he want her to... touch it?

Of course he did. That was why he'd covered himself in spit. She needed it to lift the curse. So it only made sense to...

She shook her head. Thinking too much about it would only make her chicken out. She'd never been more terrified—more excited—in her life.

Muriel took a slow, deep breath, and let it out. Then did it again. She put one foot in front of the other, tracing down the hard plates of his firm abdomen. Each step brought her closer to certain doom, she was sure of that.

She stopped in front of it, breathing faster. His musk hung heavy in the air, making her body react in ways that made her legs start to quiver.

His movements slowed to leisured strokes, giving her a good long look at what he planned to thoroughly ruin her with. If he caught her once the curse was broken, she only prayed her dragon form could take him. She was in for a world of pain if it couldn't.

After a moment to gather her courage, she lifted her hand. With the slightest brush of her fingers, she followed a vein along his knot, her arm lifting as it trailed up the hot, leathery shaft. He shuddered under her, his movements stilling completely.

"That," he panted, "that's not nearly enough medicine. You need more. Yes... much more."

The words had barely registered before she was up in his grasp again. His scales scraped gently down her naked skin.

She squirmed, pushing down on his talons to make him release her. "Akryos! Put me down, you know I hate being handled like this!"

The look he gave her was feral. Hungry. She trembled, her struggles faltering as he lathered his other forepaw with saliva once more. Wide eyes followed as he brought it back down to massage over his cock, which only seemed to grow painfully harder. Precum welled from the tip—she began to fear what ideas were making him so riled up.

If touching him wasn't enough... what else did he want?

"Don't worry, my treasure," he rumbled in a voice dripping with lust. "I'll make sure you get all the medicine you need~"

Her stomach dropped as she descended, her eyes squeezing shut. The breath escaped her lungs when she was suddenly pressed to a wet, firm thing, leaving the front of her bare form and the side of her face slick. Muriel's eyes snapped open. Oh.

She was sat on his knot, and with her legs bracketing the thick length, her sex was flush against it. Her everything was. He was holding her with it in his fist.

This is truly a  depraved  dragon.

She imagined his annoying, smug face. If only she could see it past his cock.

"I'm not a toy. Put me down right now!" Damn the tremor in her voice.

"I will not."

She gasped as she was squeezed tighter, breasts flattening against his unsheathed flesh. "Akryos!"

He groaned, long and low, his cock twitching. "Mnh... you make me burn from the inside. The way you feel against me... I know I won't last."

He started moving her, squeezing her body up and down his lubricated shaft. A startled mewl slipped past her lips as her aroused sex was unexpectedly stimulated. The constant gliding, rubbing pressure on her clit sent shocks of pleasure sparking through her body, all the way down to her toes.

"I— unnh... I'm not... a toy!" She repeated her strained protest, despite the way her body responded to the degrading act.

She heard him chuckle darkly. "No, you're not a toy. But on occasion, you love being treated like one~"

"Insufferable dragon," she gritted out, knees squeezing around him.

Akryos cursed.

He didn't let up. Neither did she, determined to make him cum soon, to end her humiliation. Her legs squeezed harder, making his moans rougher. Louder. At the same time, the pressure between her thighs built and built, climbing to a height she didn't care to resist.

Might as well get some pleasure out of it.

Soon enough, her hips were grinding on their own, chasing the fast approaching climax she was aching for. And then she felt it—his length pulsing against her as he came with a wild growl. The sound sent her over with him, her own cry piercing through the cavern.

Muriel panted as the spasms slowly eased. Her body felt like trembling pudding. She glanced up, hoping she wouldn't be bathed in his semen again. But it seemed like he'd shot it all on his belly, gravity pulling the remaining drops forward on the other side.

She let out a breath.

Only to suck one right back in when he lifted her again.

She cried out as she fell onto her back in his palm. She propped herself up with hands behind her, finding herself staring into the darkly satisfied eyes of her insatiable tormentor.

"What is it now?" she demanded in a breathless growl.

His other forepaw came into view. The pad of one finger was covered in his seed. Her eyes widened. Then narrowed.

"Don't you dare."

But why would he start listening to her now?

The smug dragon pushed his way up between her legs and swiped the stuff over her mound despite her protests.

"Spread your legs," he commanded.

"Absolutely no—"

"Now!"

Her eyes snapped to his once more, his simmering gaze making her shiver. It was like something had possessed him. A darker side he fought to suppress.

Calmer after a breath, he continued, "Or I'll put your soft, pretty little body in my mouth again."

She swallowed thickly. Her legs opened, wide for his view. His eyes were fixated there, intense and demanding.

"Use your fingers. Push my seed inside you."

"But—"

"Muriel," he rasped in warning. He licked his teeth, utterly consumed by the sight before him. "Your cursed form couldn't conceive. I just... want to see."

A moment passed, tense with her hesitation and lingering arousal. Then she obeyed. With a shaky hand, she reached down, two fingers sliding through the thick semen. She gathered a bit, before slowly pushing it in.

She closed her eyes, cheeks tinged pink at the thought of him seeing what a mess she was down there. But he didn't seem to care.

Once she'd pushed as much as she could inside her channel, her lids tentatively opened, taking a peek at his expression.

Possessive. Reverent. Mad with unquenched desire. She'd never seen the blaze in his eyes burn so brightly before.

Eventually, he met her timid stare with his own blistering one. "When you're free of your curse... I only pray I have the strength to be gentle. But if..."

The pause hung heavily between them. Stifling.

"If what?" she pressed in a whisper.

"If I should fail," he murmured, a flicker of true worry flashing briefly across his visage, "I'm sorry for what I'm going to do to you."