King Beast - Vicious Flames

Chapter 31

Quote about marriage: "Never marry the one you can live with, marry the one you cannot live without..." 

According to the quote above, Odette had no choice, since she cant live without the scaly ass  XD

***

My wedding.

We just got married.

And I didn't even realize!

"You didn't ask me..." I said under my breath.

"What was that?"

"You didn't ask me!" I yelled at his face. Whether I whispered or screamed, his reaction would be the same. Passive. Uninterested.

"Ask what?" was all he said.

"To marry me!"

"Why would I do that?"

Unbelievable!

"I didn't give you my consent," I choked out, "I didn't even know you could-"

His hand snapped up and covered my mouth. "Marriage is just a human concept I used to placate you."

Placate? Placate!! Did I look placated to this scaly serpentine?!

Curse him!!

I shook my head, but his meaty fingers tightened, holding my lower face and squishing my cheeks.

"From the moment you first squawked into this world, you were mine. Not your parents," His nostrils flared, his gaze unwavering, "Not that sapling of a boy. Mine. And that's all the consent I need."

I squinted at him. So, I was just another patch of his grand land?

His shoulders bulged, his expression fierce, he stared at me, unblinking. "Now, be quiet. Yes?"

I nodded, or tried to, given his hand was still attached to my face like a limpet.

When he finally released me, I let out a scream that could rival a banshee's cry. Heads and tails turned faster than chickens at feeding time.

I screamed so loud I started to cough up embers.

"Done?" He asked, cutting through my noise.

I cleared my throat, my vocal cords still tingling. "You can't just slap a ring on someone's finger without asking first."

"I didn't give you any ring."

I shot him a scowl. I wanted to show him my ringless fingers. Particularly one specific finger... "Semantics, Zerberus!"

He sighed heavily, as if my words were a bothersome fly buzzing around his head. "Do you want a ring? My hoard is overflowing with those fingery circles. My fiancés used to-"

If I had any hair left, I would have yanked it. Instead, grabbed a fistful of his locks, and I pulled.

Hard.

A large hand cracked on my ass. "Quit fretting like a jittery quail!"

"Fiancés?! Plural?" I sputtered, incredulous.

He regarded me coolly, a smirk playing on his lips like a sly salamander. "You seem agitated...I wonder why." He cocked his head, observing me. "I will not discuss with you about the winged females I have. Would that be preferable?"

Forgotten where his previous jabs had landed, I shot back, "You have?! Females you still have?!"

"They are still alive. Most of them."

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"Don't I?" His voice was silky, sibilant.

"If they're still around, that means..."

"They're still under my rule," he snapped, dismissing the topic with a wave of his claw.

I seethed, feeling utterly adrift against his infuriating logic. "That's it?" He talked about fiancés in present tense. And plural, for non-God's sake!

"We have more pressing matters to attend to," he declared, his hands hoisting me up against him.

His large tip jabbed me. My eyes bulged. I had completely forgotten my obligation to tolerate him for the entirety of our 'wedding'—or whatever this barbaric mating ritual was called.

The thought drove me mad. The whole conversation with him did. Anger masked the pain. He didn't deserve my hurt. A cold-blooded, barbaric, scaly ass.... That's what he was.

"To me, these aren't insults, rat," he drawled, red-ringed eyes boring into mine, as he thrust several fat inches in. "My ass is scaly." He withdrew, and I gave a little whimper of mingled agony and pleasure, "I'm cold-blooded." He nipped at my neck as he shoved himself back. "And barbaric...well, that's just a human word for beings who have nothing better to do than invent words and play scholars."

"Fuck you!" I slapped his shoulders with both hands, ending up scratching my palms (and his, as a consequence), "I don't want any more!"

"No, mouse, you fuck me." With a final slap to my ass, he wedged his full length in me, wiping my protests right off me. "And this pussy here is mine. My territory. I do what I want with it." Each sentence what punctuating by a powerful thrust and a slap of his balls.

But the scaly ass didn't stop there. Lifting me up and down, my legs flopping uselessly, he pounded away with the enthusiasmand vigor of a virgin boy during his first time.

All my remaining strength focused on taking it as he still stretched me to my limits to make space for him.

It seemed that in dragon culture, 'wedding'meant ending up with a pulverized pussy, sticky with dragon goo, the bride half-conscious with exhaustion and deliriously lost in orgasmic bliss... and quiet. They really did seem to prefer us silent.

Satisfied with my lack of protest, with my folds obediently wrapped around his pulsing rod and my body ensnared in his grip, our fronts pressed together, my breasts squished against his rough scales, both of us stark naked, he casually strolled with me over to the high table.

AN/ aaaah, dont we love him when he calls her mouse?! XD