Page 38 of Self Studies
Beryl found what he was looking for. Turning, he held out a glass vile. The red, purple, and crystal-clear swirls of a healing potion sparkled.
“The Institute removed every scrap of information about the dragon from Mêler and the institute servers. It’s word of mouth now. All the power-mongers are taking credit for it. It’s become a running joke that it’s you.” He gave me a soft smile. “Sorry, but you don’t quite radiate the powerful vibes.”
I tried to smile at his humor but couldn’t. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m a dragon?”
Beryl shook his head. “I was surprised. Sorry to worry your pretty face.”
I took a deep breath, not sure if I believed him, but desperate to take him at his word. “Is that a healing potion?”
Beryl tried to hand it to me.
“I can’t take that from you.” I pushed it back toward him. “It’s just bruising and a few cuts on my lips. Those are very expensive and hard to make. Even harder to charge.”
Beryl shook his head. He wrapped an arm around my waist again, and I leaned into him, my worry vanishing.
“It’s my fault.” He said quietly, his shoulders sinking. “I should’ve been here. I’ll force the potion down your throat if I have to.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
Beryl shifted me in his arms. His face darkened. “You don’t know me, Dot.”
A curl of fear made me shiver. I didn’t know him at all. This was the longest conversation we’d ever had.
Beryl’s gaze bore into me before he took a large sip of the potion and pressed his lips to mine. By magic or skill, I wasn’t sure; he managed to transfer all of the sweet liquid into my mouth. Somehow I didn’t choke as it slid down my throat. Immediately the throbbing in my face subsided, and cuts and bruises on my body healed.
I snuggled into Beryl and kissed his neck. This, I wanted this.
Beryl held me for a moment before releasing me to re-cork the potion. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Beryl said, slipping the remaining liquid into his interdimensional pocket.
Beryl stood, lifting me with one arm. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his uniform. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
He hesitated before pressing me to his chest. “Always, my goddess. Always.”
I don’t know how long he held me, but eventually, my fear subsided, and we walked, arms around each other’s waist back toward the Institute.
* * *
My moan filled Beryl’s small, moody bedroom. I rocked and bounced as his cock filled my pussy from behind while his skillful fingers rubbed against my clit. His other arm wrapped around my breasts, holding me tight to his chest as if he could protect me from the world.
It wasn’t only the sex; it was all of him—a wall of muscles, safety, and acceptance. I tried to back myself further onto his dick, but he couldn’t go any deeper at this angle.
As if reading my mind, Beryl’s hands shifted to my hips. He rolled us, so he was flat on his back, and I was straddling his waist, looking at his feet. Once again, his fingers returned to my clit as I let his entire length slide in and out. Over and over, faster and faster until in a massive wave, my muscles bunched and released.
“Squeeze me, baby, milk me with everything you’ve got.” Beryl’s voice blended with the sound of our bodies and my orgasmic whimper.
“Shit, yes,” he grunted, swelling inside of me.
His fingers, still tapping my clit, grew erratic, and a smaller second wave of pleasure rippled from my core. I shoved my fingers in my mouth to stop from screaming.
Blinking in the aftermath, I sat for a minute, enjoying the feeling of being filled. Enjoying Beryl. He traced a circle on my backside. Little shivers kissed in the wake of his movements. Slowly, I slipped off of him and found my way into his arms. “Did you climax?”
Beryl grunted. “You didn’t feel it?”
“I did; I wanted to be sure.”
I studied the brown bedding we’d not bothered to get under.
Beryl shifted and kissed me hard. “You’re not responsible for any part of my pleasure, Dot. You’re not a slave. Let me take care of you.”