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“…you think you can do that for me…?” he asks with a sly grin that goes unseen. From this angle, his partner can’t see much more than the lavish wall in front of him. Good. He doesn’t need to see in order to feel. Not yet, anyway.
Alfred squeezes the heavy balls settled in the palm of his paw once, then skirts his retracted claws along the base of the sheathe, up and up to the quivering head of the absolutely massive cock before him. His husband is, of course, blessed by his genetics: a skydancer with a ridgeback father? As a small pearlcatcher, Alfred fits nicely underneath him while Einar stands. Alfred lies comfortably on his side, wings brushed back to lay comfortably across the plush blanket he’s had Einar toss over the ground. The fabric of it, soft and red, remains unmarred. Hm. Someone really ought to do something about that.
“Speak up,” Alfred prompts sweetly. He sweeps his paw, claws running along the sensitive frill that surrounds the head of his cock. Even that light little touch has a drop of precum threatening to fall to the blanket. Beautiful. Alfred leans up and licks it off for the taste - and to keep the fabric clean just a little longer. He wants it marred, but not like that. All in good time.
Einar’s muscles shift, the barest of movement in his hips as he fights to keep still. Sure, he might seem unbothered to some nebulous outside audience, but Alfred knows better, knows him well. He wants this too, despite his hesitance. “Yes,” Einar breathes above him, music to Alfred’s ears.
“You can fuck me, love?” Another sweep of paw over cock, this time with more pressure. “You can fuck me down to the hilt?”
“Yes,” he replies in that same tone.
“Mmm…”
The pearlcatcher rolls and rights himself, carefully slipping out from under the all-white dragon’s legs. He tugs softly at the leash held in his free paw - not enough to try to force eye contact, not now. Just enough to coax that beautiful head of his to bend to Alfred’s level. Just enough so Alfred can drape his upper half over his muzzle, leash dropped to the ground for the moment. Dynamics be damned, coy nature or bratting or teasing be damned, this is the man that he has loved - and will ever love - more than anyone in his entire life. His mate, his husband, his. Wing for wing, they’re a pair.
Alfred hums and takes a deep breath as he strokes over Einar’s face, between his eyes, down his snout to the tip of his nose, where he plants a kiss. Einar’s answering rumble ruffles Alfred’s soft fur.
“I’m ready,” he assures him. “I’m prepared, and I have the stuff the alchemist gave me, too. All three bottles. One for now, two for after. I want you. You can’t break me.” Alfred smiles. Another gentle kiss. Another puff of chilled air. “Not in a way that matters, anyway. Not seriously. Break me in a safe way. Do you still want to continue…?”
If Einar calls it off, Alfred will of course step back and put everything away. The Plague enchanted tinctures that make it possible to take every last centimeter of him, the things that repair, soothe, prevent pregnancy. The collar and leash, coiled up and put in their box to be oiled later. The lube and toys and things he’s used to stretch himself to his current absolute limit. Sex is nice, sure, but it’s secondary to this, to what they have, to this veritable monster of a dragon before him, gazing at him with what he knows to be unmistakable adoration, devotion, desire.
But still, as Einar blinks, he tips his head ever so slightly without knocking Alfred to the side. “I want this,” he says after a moment, and that’s the sort of tone Alfred was hoping to hear. Rich and full, more confident in the moment.
Perfect. Alfred grins, his cunt nearly aching with renewed interest. He sits back down, freeing Einar, and swipes his claws down and over his t-dick in full view of his lover. Little circles that do absolutely nothing to quell the want inside of him - he’s eager for what’s to come.
“Good pet,” he says reverently. He picks up the discarded leash with his other paw and gives it a light tug. “Good, love. Go get the bottles. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” Einar says once more, and this time acts without hesitation.