Dragons Hoard

"Mestre Damaso?" I stood before the cave, my hands folded. I ignored the wind and the cold, my head bent down a little out of respect for the spirits that I might cross. The moon was just barely a sliver in the sky, and I hoped that I didn't come too early.

I waited a bit and heard nothing.

Perhaps my voice was too soft for him to hear. I patted the edge of the dark stone entrance, hoping that he heard something before I wandered inside, rubbing my fingers together, making the walls glow a pleasant emerald green. It was a nervous habit that I found useful - my magic showed up only when I needed it, whether or not I knew that I did. I made no sound except for the polite shuffling of my feet, trying to alert the mestre that I was here.

"Senhor?" That was right, right? My fingers were flashing light, almost like a candle sputtering out. "Fuck." I tried clapping, and the light stayed consistent again. My feet started gliding on the stone now, feeling the path underneath me get smoother as I got in deeper. It wasn't long before I reached a dead end, the cave glittering prettily with my glowing hands.

I reached into my knapsack and checked my watch, rubbing my fingers again as I worriedly glanced at the glowing clock. Near midnight. When did his door open? I was getting impatient, wandering around in circles in that dead end.

My hands stopped glowing thirty seconds after, forcing me to be encased in darkness. I turned on a flashlight from my pack, worried about eating up the batteries.

Something huge creaked behind me, warm light poking out a bit from a widening door.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE-"

I jumped, hitting whatever it was as high and square as I could.

"Hu- Ow." Oh God. Whoever was in the grey hoodie was trying to cover their eyes - Jesus Christ, I injured and blinded them. I lowered it a bit downwards, coughing awkwardly as my eyes adjusted to the bright light.

"Err." I waddled a bit in place, noticing dark curls poking out of the hoodie. "Marcos?" I was a little relieved.

"Li?" He blinked, rubbing his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? Come inside - it's cold as hell."

-

He shut the door behind us.

I sat in a very familiar room, wrapped in a cloak while he sat comfortably in a hoodie. An old fashioned fireplace crackled in the corner. It looked like he just got finished with rewatching season two of New Girl with the credits rolling on the screen. Comic books were neatly stacked in a corner, and he fiddled with his glass necklace a bit before sliding it back into his shirt. I sat down at the dining table.

He wandered over to the kitchen, turning on the Keurig. "Um, so what were you doing in a cave?"

"You never told me you were Damaso." The water boiled comfortably as he fiddled around with the mugs, grabbing a cat shaped one for me.

"I heard you, but I don't think you heard me. I'm still trying to figure it out. It's inherited." His older brother Gabriel ran out with a bunch of punks and never came back, and must've left him to be the head of house from now on - not that he hadn't ever had to before. I often had trouble as the neighbor before with listening to their fights - I often checked on Marcos after Gabriel stormed out, reading a few books quietly beside him, watching Netflix when we could, and studying for our college classes.

The fire roared and he removed his hoodie, setting it down on the chair. He was wearing his favorite baseball tee. I glanced down at my shoe, sweating a bit too much, tugging at my cloak. It turned blue and attempted to turn itself into a sheet of ice. "Jesus, Marcos. Turn it down a bit, please?" My body was trying to create a colder temperature in the worst way possible by attempting to freeze the ground underneath me, which didn't do well for Marcos' tiles. He didn't sweat one bit, but he did look embarrassed. "Sorry. Just wanted to see what you were hiding." He did a quick appraising side glance while finishing up the other cup of hot chocolate, walking over to sit at the table that was one size too small for him, but one size too big for me.

Our knees knocked gently. I resisted the temptation to slide my foot gently against his. He looked playful.

"Underneath?" I smirked and blushed, remembering exactly what I was wearing. "Not weapons."

"Mmn. Trying to appease the dragon for a favor?"

"Sort of. Did you always know that I'd ask?" I started sipping my hot chocolate a little. He drank his with no problem - one of the many benefits of having a dragon's digestive system.

"When were you going to tell me that you were the Slayer Witch?"

Off-handed sounding mother- I nearly went into convulsions. "First of all that son of a bitch knew was allergic to peanuts, and he stole all of my little sister's lunch money! You'd think that he would be able to smell the dumb nuts that fucking numb nuts, but he went and singed himself to death because he flew into my turkey deep frying peanut oil fucking God forbid I swear to Christ- He was a drunk bastard who should've never had a license to fly, and he flew with civilians seeing him! Slayer Witch my ass! Not my fault he blew himself up with a wound in his belly! The FBI has been ringing about it for months!"

Marcos uncomfortably drank down his hot chocolate, coughing politely afterwards. "Sorry. I was just curious." Pink stained his cheeks, and I felt my face burn up. "Oh. Yeah." Our legs started getting tangled under the table, and I cleared my throat a bit.

"So...Mestre?" The corner of his lips perked up a bit. "You've been saying that more and more lately."

"You-" Eavesdropping pervert. I thought the walls were thick enough.

"I don't listen in too much. It's hard not to, though, when you're buzzing that thing and wailing up against the wall."

"What about all that grunting? Am I imagining things, or are you always moving heavy objects? You're a dragon, so it shouldn't be a problem." I rubbed at an edge of my cloak.

He was gazing at me softly and leaned up against his hand, elbow resting on the table. "May I see?" His eyes kept flickering to the edge of my cloak. I unbuttoned it, exposing my nude form underneath, glancing away in the silence.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, walking over to kiss the top of my head. "Slut." He whispered, grinning. "Think I didn't smell your lust?" He cupped my breasts gently, nibbling my cheek as he flicked my nipples. I shivered, spreading my legs a bit more, parting my lips to receive more kisses. "I'm making a mess, hon..." I whimpered.

His hand reached down his jeans, shoving his cock out, twitching up to meet me as he stroked, the tip an angry red. "Fuck, I wanna make a mess of that sloppy cunt." Marcos slapped my pussy lips before lifting me up as easy as a feather onto his table, sitting down instead on the chair where I formally sat, spreading my thighs nice and wide. My fingers gripped his curls a bit. I bit my lip, grinning a bit as he slapped my soaking cunt again, feeling it twitch.

He inhaled delicately, kissing my mound. "Good whore." His mouth mumbled with his kisses, trailing them down each side of my petals until he reached my netherhole.

He kissed my tightest hole softly, sticking his tongue in a few times as his fingers rubbed my soaking pussy hole and slit, spreading my slickness down to the ass that he worshiped. I leaned my head back onto the table, groaning a bit as he licked his way a smooth passage, sliding a finger down deep to the knuckle easily.

"What a dirty hole." He chuckled, nibbling along my wet, plumping petals, sliding one- mn - two - God - three long fucking fingers deep, deep inside of my cunt, plunging in and out fast enough that my pussy leaked juice into the gaping asshole he spread with his other hand.

It twitched and twitched, leaking like hell. "Honey, please, please fuck me-" I was begging now, trying to wiggle my hips.

"What were you going to ask the dragon for, huh, love?" He blew nearly unbearably hot air across my clit, my asshole and petals still tingling from the dragon spit. I blushed, mortified. "Elder Witch Madila said that dragon magic was the best for increasing libido."

He snorted for a second, pausing, taking his fingers out delectably slow. "She's right, I suppose. You thought you could just waltz into a dragon's lair like that, though? If you asked nicely?" I smirked a little, watching him stand up to his full height, enjoying the view of his form fitting shirt and unzipped jeans. "Oh. You little whore." He glanced up and grinned, tapping his twitching cock up against my slit, sliding it gently up against my dripping petals and twitching holes. "What if it was my brother and he came back? Could you bet on that? Is that why you waited so long to come back?" I nodded, and he looked a little breathless.

We both watched as he slowly slid in, hissing a bit at the tight, hot fit. Dragon cock was the best, smooth and rigid, if a little wider than most, and seared nice and hot inside a wet cunt like mine. "God. That's good." He stayed in awhile at my look, and pounded me rough as could be right when I made that smile for him again, pushing right up against my womb as pushed as much cock as he could possibly fit in me. Marcos grinned back just as easily as I wailed, digging his slightly lengthened dragon nails deep into my hips, trying to hold back from shifting. "That good, eh?" He kept his thrusts short and quick now, pressed up against me on that sturdy table, hissing as I licked and nipped the base of his throat.

"That's right Marcos - fucking cum in this slut, cum in this fucking whore - brand this fucking cunt with your seed-" I wailed, my nails digging into his back, his thrusts a lightning pace as he swelled-

My pussy filled up hot and I felt that I was going to spill over with all that cum, but Marcos pushed on, growling as he worked his knot deep as he could, locking us together. My cunt was stretched wider than I've ever had it, and I was cumming hard, trembling as I felt boiling inside my cunt. My hips kept pumping on his cock, locked in with him, his face buried in my hair. "Fucking Christ!" He chuckled at me, slapping my bottom. "Good job, Li."

"Mm." I sleepily nibbled at his cheek. "Thank you, mister."

"Mestre."

"Mmhm." I yawned, and he picked me up over to our living room couch. "I didn't you know you were the king dragon, hon. I thought you were just a regular handsome dragon."

"Mmhm." He nodded at me, rubbing my lower back and I adjusted to his cock. We'd be here awhile, so he pulled up a blanket. I twitched a bit, shivering, and he kissed the tips of my ears. "Wanna watch something, Slayer Witch?"

"That's mean. I don't know how to use my magic that good. Not my fault." I pouted grumpily, my eyes closing. He rubbed my bottom fondly.

It was quiet as the fire settled down a bit with a whisper of his magic, and I heard the TV turn on once he reached for the remote. "Over the Garden Wall," I whispered, squirming in his lap. He groaned, but I felt him smile against my forehead. "Sleep, you witch."

"Night, Mestre."

"Night, troublemaker."