Topple `168

Chapter 168 

Flowen POV 

The door to Vaelrix’s chamber shut behind me with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the thick silence pulsing with heat. I stood frozen, heart pounding like war drums. The chamber was huge, with vaulted obsidian ceilings, soft flickering amber light, and a bed that looked more like a battlefield than a place of rest. 

Vaelrix prowled toward me, every muscle tight beneath his bronze skin, emerald eyes glowing with hunger so potent it nearly stole the air from my lungs. “You said yes, he growled, the sound vibrating straight into my bones. “You chose to come in here with me. No backing out now, little wolf.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I whispered, breath catching as he reached me. 

His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb dragging across my bottom lip. “Good. Because I’m not going to be gentle tonight. I’ve waited too long. The second you crossed realms, I knew you were mine.” 

Before I could answer, he kissed me, if you could even call it a kiss. It was a claiming, a punishment, a fucking prayer wrapped in fire and storm. His lips crashed against mine with a hunger that stole my breath, his tongue sweeping in like a conqueror, tasting every secret I’d tried to hide. 

I melted into him with a needy whimper, my body arching instinctively, my fingers twisting into the rough silk of his shirt as if I could anchor myself against the tidal wave of him. Heat bloomed low in my belly, spreading like wildfire, and I pressed closer, desperate for the friction, the friction that promised oblivion. 

Clothes disappeared in a haze, torn at the seams, dropped in forgotten heaps, magicked away in a flicker of emerald sparks that danced across my skin like teasing fingertips. 

One second I was dressed, the next I was naked, trembling under the weight of his gaze as he stepped back to admire. The cool air kissed my flushed skin, raising goosebumps, but it was his eyes, dark, molten, and devouring, that made me shiver deepest. 

“So beautiful,” he rumbled, his voice a low thunder that vibrated through my bones. “But you’ll be even prettier tied up and soaked in my 

scent.” 

He moved fast, a blur of shadow and scale, and suddenly my arms were wrenched above my head, my wrists bound in enchanted silken cords that pulsed with a warm, insistent magic. 

They hummed against my pulse, tightening just enough to remind me of my surrender, soft as a lover’s whisper but unyielding as iron. My legs followed, my ankles secured to each post of the bed with the same glowing threads, spreading me wide, leaving me utterly exposed and helpless beneath his hungry gaze. 

The vulnerability hit like a drug, thrilling, terrifying, and intoxicating. I tugged experimentally, feeling the cords flex but hold, and a fresh wave of wetness slicked my thighs. 

“Blindfold,” he murmured, and darkness slipped over my vision like velvet night, plunging me into a world of sensation alone. 

Every other sense sharpened to a razor’s edge, the faint crackle of magic in the air, the musky spice of his scent wrapping around me, distant rumble of thunder from his dragon soul echoing in my chest. 

the 

My heart hammered, anticipation coiling tight in my core, and then, gods, his fingers.They ghosted over my skin first, feather–light trails from collarbone to hip, mapping me like sacred territory. A single one dipped lower, sliding through my folds with agonizing slowness, collecting the evidence of my need, parting me just enough to make me gasp. 

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Chapter 168 

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“Already soaked, he growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest like an earthquake. “For me. For this dragon cock you’ve been dreaming about.” 

“Vael…fuck!” I choked out, my voice breaking as two fingers plunged inside me without warning, thick and callused, curling upward to drag against that perfect, hidden spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids. 

Pleasure arched through me like lightning, sharp and sweet, and then his mouth was there, hot, wet, and claiming my clit with a fierce suck that had my hips bucking wildly against the restraints. He devoured me like a man starved, his tongue laving broad, lazy circles that built the pressure slow and torturous, then flicking quick and merciless, alternating rhythms until I was a writhing mess, sobbing his name into the void. 

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