روايات وقصص ضمن Memoirs Of A Dragon

In that bar, seeing the predatory look, I already knew the danger he represented the ferocious animal looking for a fight at the height, one which I felt the challenge to provide, I tried uselessly to believe that it was dangerous for my plans, to undo the constant desire. I was completely wrong, Dragon is a ball of destruction ravaging every wall firmly built to protect something I thought I lost long ago, a part of me I never imagined needing, wanting, or wanting, taking over a forgotten space and appropriating the deepest avaricious miseries of my soul in wanting to have him and keep him just for pleasure.

“Yes, a huge black one.” “How do you know?” “That dog has one disgusting imagination – he had this fantasy that he was riding the dragon whilst it was burning everything in its path.” “Draco” it slipped out before I realised. “So…you know this dragon?” Before I could stop it a memory popped up and I was not fast enough. “Oh,” He laughed, “you KNOW him.” I coughed silently, that was the only thing I could do. “Damn girl, you do like the bad ones, huh?”

At this point, she was sure the dragon was in control,but as suddenly as he changed, Drago came back to himself. “He will not hurt you,” he whispered in her ear,”he just wants to enjoy his mate.” “Mmm,” Madchen moaned and all her inhibitions dissipated like a mist into the night. Drago wasted no time as he sat up, and ripped his shirt off, revealing his perfectly toned abs and pecs.He pulled her up with him. They were chest to chest now,Madchen completely absorbed in the bliss that was Drago, her sexy onyx dragon. Suddenly, his lips claimed hers with a fiery passion, demanding entrance to her delicious mouth with his tongue. Madchen Allowed it, letting him lead as he explored her mouth. Soon

Trigger Warning Hello Lovely Readers, Thank you for taking the time to read A Baby for the Dragon. This book is a breeder kink one and has some talk of infertility with the main female lead but will result in a pregnancy for our dragon and his mate. There will be tons of unprotected sex and lots of dirty talk, the sex will be super graphic and if that’s not something you enjoy that’s okay. There are plenty of other books out there for you, just maybe not this one.

It curled the long black weight of its body in a loose ring around me — not touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat of its scales — and laid its head down across the entrance. I was not getting out. Mother had told me stories about this when I was small — dragons hoarding princesses the way magpies hoarded buttons, keeping them on piles of gold until only their bones remained. I had been five. I remembered thinking the moral was about greed. Now I wondered if it was about escape. I drew my knees up against my chest. My back hurt. My knee hurt where the bandage had soaked through. I waited for the dragon to do something. It only watched me from the cave mouth, its yellow eye hal

Only Vertimon has books about dragons and from what she understood, he had gotten them from the old Demon king’s castle, the one her father had ruined while trying to save her mother from his brother, her uncle. There was no news or stories about the dragons except in the books and it was what made everyone believed them to be myth. Neither the wolves or vampires has ever heard about the dragons and she only got to know about them because growing up, she loved spending her time in Vertimon waters and so chanced upon the books. Even Vertimon himself had admitted not believing them to be real but since it was a book from the old demon king castle, maybe it was true, or maybe they are myth. And

The Warlord hadn’t returned—not yet—but his staff had begun to circle her like vultures, as if they sensed how quickly her blood was warming to the rhythm of his realm. Sometimes she thought she could still feel him—like the brush of breath against her neck, the ghost of heat curling behind her ear. Have you ever seen a dragon’s rut? The memory made her jaw lock. It lingered on her skin like smoke. Like prophecy. The chamber doors opened.

“You mean her, don’t you?” “Aye,” said another, leaning close, as if the name itself could summon lightning. “The Red Dragon of Adistaktos. Segrenry Exhugh.” At once the room seemed to shrink. Even the fire guttered. “Segrenry,” the barkeep repeated. “They say she fought the Kilimane Warlord once. Burned him alive, scale by scale, while he was still roaring her name.” “Lies,” muttered a soldier in the corner. “No dragon could kill that beast alone.”

I’m merely standing on his chest, a shell of the dragon I used to be. Other dragons' images have their tails possessively curled around the pectoral muscle or breast of their rider. Not me. My tail is curled around my own paws. I may have been claimed, but I feel none of the usual possessiveness of a fire dragon for their mate. I do what I’m told because I have to. When the doors to the King’s chamber open, Merellien spins around. “It’s about time,” he growls. “The King will see you now,” his Chancellor says.

My heart couldn't help skipping a beat at the mere mention of that name, but I took a deep breath to compose myself and said calmly, "Show him in." A tall, well-dressed man soon entered. Though Harry's youthfulness seemed to have faded, his mature appearance was somehow more handsome and elegant. Nonetheless, those dark, captiving eyes of his were filled with shock and disbelief when he saw me. It was natural, as he could never have imagined that the medical expert he'd been desperately seeking for would be me, the little girl he had deliberately abandoned twenty years ago. Still, he finally found his voice after a long pause, his tone clearly skeptical as he asked, "Y-You're Dr. Simpson?"