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She, the Offering, stands underneath the veil hung over her by the Vidyadhara Preceptors.
Once in every lifetime, when the Vidyadhara born to be the High Elder becomes of age, the Xianzhou Luofu offers them one of their own—a welcoming gift, a peace gift, whatever one decides to call it. They are called the Offering, chosen amongst a wide pool of aspiring candidates.
See, it is quite an honor to be chosen by the council to be The Offering. Being the Offering means one is “suited enough” to become what is essentially a close aide to the High Elder. Their bond would symbolize the connection of the Luofu with its Vidyadhara populace. They will be the first voice of the Xianzhou natives to the High Elder's ears. But that also means that the Offering must be well-learned, particularly of both Xianzhou and Vidyadharan cultures. They must be well-mannered, polite and agreeable. But they must also have a strong will, with the determination of someone who holds power. It's really all a big task to hold.
The introduction of the Offering to the High Elder comes shortly after his crowning ceremony. Alone now in the royal halls, The Offering is brought forward to the waiting High Elder by a group of Vidyadharan attendants. Beforehand, they had been in charge of preparing the Offering for the meeting—dressing them, grooming them, showing them how to respond to the High Elder.
Now, their last job is to introduce them to their master.
“Bring her to me,” the low voice of Yinyue-jun cuts through the room. The attendants obey, crossing the threshold, holding the Offering’s veil in place as she takes patient steps toward the High Elder. Once she reaches him, she does a small bow, and her attendants step backward. They do their own bow, too.
Yinyue-jun rises from his seat—lifts the veil off from the front of her so he can see her face. He tilts her head upward with a slender finger. When their eyes meet, heat blooms.
There’s not a hint of an impression on his face. Whatever he felt in that moment, the attendants cannot tell for certain.
“Very well,” he says to them. “You are dismissed.”
The attendants do another bow before they exit the room. The door closes shut behind them.
With a whirl of his fingers, Yinyue-jun locks the door with cloudhymn magic. He is alone now, here, with Stelle.
The cool visage he has put on earlier disappears from his face. Instead, a relaxed expression of delight replaces it.
“I think we’ve fooled them rather well,” he says, finger still on her jaw. As her serious look loosens into a smile, he traces her cheek with a thumb.
She leans toward his touch. “I feared, at the last minute, that they would find out.”
“But they did not,” he assures. “And they will never.”
“They will never,” Stelle agrees. She gets on her tiptoes to touch her forehead to his—he steps backward onto the chair and adjusts her so she’s straddling him. “Dan Heng… you genius.”
The sound of his name—not his title—sweet on her lips makes his heart stutter. “There was no way I was going to have anyone other than you, Stelle.”
“And I wouldn’t have let them!” She answers back, before pressing a kiss against his lips.
It was a plan years in the making.
Being the High Elder meant there were boundaries Dan Heng could not cross even if he wanted to. Duty separating him from leisure. But meeting Stelle one afternoon when he really should not have been where he was turned his life sideways. They meet on stolen time, in hidden places. Initial attraction blooms into a fierce longing.
Dan Heng knew—from deep within him—that he would want to be by Stelle's side forever. But with the way his life is oriented, there was no way he could peacefully have her around without the Preceptors getting in the way. That was when they had decided to act on their own. Dan Heng’s crowning ceremony was imminent, and if they wanted to have a shot at having her be the Offering, they would have to act swiftly.
And discreetly.
Slipping her name into the pool of potential Offerings was simple enough. But preparing her for the grueling tests she would have to go through was something else. She and Dan Heng spent many nights practicing. Poring through books of Vidyadharan history, quizzing her on chronologies of the Xianzhou. Teaching her how to dance. Getting her used to the formalities and ways of the noble.
Perhaps the hardest one was taming her sharp, rebellious mouth.
But they did it, anyway. They gave it their best, for over two years. The pressure was high. When the potential Offerings were dismissed after their weeklong tests, Stelle ran into Dan Heng’s chest shaking with sobs. She had feared the worst. That it had all been for naught.
Until the Xianzhou official arrived at her door with a box. Inside the box was an intricate, ornamental hairpin.
The ones they made for Offerings.
She could not wait to show it to Dan Heng.
“Oh, Yinyue-jun,” she croons, her face pressed against his neck as he carries her to his personal quarters. No one to disturb them now. “What would you have an Offering like me do now?”
Dan Heng nips her ear at her mischief. “Stop that, Stelle.”
“I fear I have not been told explicitly enough,” she continues to sing-song, “what exactly ‘tempering the High Elder’s draconic instincts’ truly means…”
He clears his throat. “You are pushing it.”
“You are just embarrassed.”
“And I have told you many times that all that talk is nothing but myth.”
She shrugs. “Yet I will still have to show up to the royal court tomorrow with proof I have done as I have been expected to do.”
Dan Heng’s ears turn red. The first break in his composure. “We both know you already know what it… entails.”
She’s placed gently on the bed. “I’d prefer if I heard it right out of your filthy mouth.”
“Ah, then you’re gravely mistaken,” he says. He pushes her backward, til his fangs graze her shoulder. “Between the two of us, it is you who speaks such coarse language.”
“Coarse? This is hardly coarse, Yinyue-jun,” she teases. Tilts him backward with a hand so they can see eye-to-eye. “Would you like to hear coarse?”
He ignores her. “Call me by my name, please,” desperately.
“Mm… I’ll think about it.” Cruelly.
“Stelle,” he says, a hiss. But her hand is steady, and he has no will to resist it. “Enough.”
“It’s nothing we haven’t done,” she says. “Why are you so afraid to say you’ll have to fuck me tonight?”
“Because you—” the smirk on her face makes him melt; “—are the death of me, that’s what.”
To temper the High Elder’s draconic instincts —a long-standing legend that has persisted in the Xianzhou for a long time. Truth be told—according to Dan Heng—there really isn’t a need for anyone to be an Offering to the High Elder. The belief that powerful Vidyadhara leaders have a hidden “cruel” nature that must be “pacified” is nothing but a myth.
At this point, it is only tradition for the Luofu. Entirely ceremonial.
In fact, past High Elders paid little heed to their Offerings—mostly delegated them to minor tasks or, sometimes, just let them do what they wanted. Whatever emotional attachment they could have had are usually set aside. At best, they were ornaments the High Elders wore on their sleeves during major occasions.
Of course, Dan Heng thought more of Stelle than that, but…
This would be the easiest way to keep her at his side.
No questions about him taking a lover, forsaking his responsibilities. Instead, she is attached at his hip, tethered onto him by heritage and duty. No one would dare question their bond like they had before. There would be no more hiding his feelings for her from the world.
This is the start of showing the Luofu how much he loved her.
The sound of her laughter breaks all tension, her hand slackening against his chest. Dan Heng takes the opportunity to give her a good look. Her slightly flushed face, the irresistible grin on her lips, the way her hair fans out on the pillow behind her. How openly she presents herself to him.
Like a perfect Offering should.
Now, it’s time to pay her in attention what he cannot do in words.
Stelle sighs at the first touch of his lips against her shoulder. Even through her clothes, her body is warm from all her adrenaline and giddiness. Dan Heng relishes the way she submits, her hands making their way to the nape of his neck, curling at the base. He pulls at her sleeve until the junction of her shoulder and neck is properly exposed.
He bites.
A gasp. “Oh, fuck.” She might never get used to the dig of his fangs into her skin. It’s painful; it’s delicious. She doesn’t feel the blood trickle out, but she does feel the way he takes an eager sip. It feels like it will bruise.
It should. Let the entirety of the Luofu see who she belongs to tonight, and every night hereafter.
With surprising dexterity, Dan Heng undoes the ribbons and buttons of her elaborate dress. At first he starts patiently, but as the dress’ complexity reveals itself to him the more impatient he becomes. By the time he gets to the last few clasps holding it closed, he’s almost tearing it off.
He pushes her back onto the bed.
“Beautiful,” he drawls, hand resting over her abdomen. Keeping her from squirming away from his hot gaze. “You’ve always been so beautiful.”
“You’re the same.” She places her hand over his. “But you’re overdressed.”
“Indeed.”
Stelle drinks in the sight of her Dan Heng undressing. She props herself up on her elbows to get a better view.
Unlike her own dress, Dan Heng is much more used to stripping out of his elaborate ceremonial wear, and he’s down to his underwear in about a minute. In the silver moonlight through his window, she can see the contours of his body—the deceptively lithe frame hiding powerful muscles underneath.
She sits up, reaches out to touch him, and he lets her.
He slides his knee between her legs, guiding her hand on his torso, before taking her lips into a kiss.
Dan Heng is a very versatile kisser. Sometimes he kisses like she’s made out of snow, something that would crumble if he doesn’t go gently. Sometimes he’s taking her tongue in his mouth with such a passion it’s as if this is the last time they will ever see each other. All the time, he kisses with a quiet longing—as if he wouldn’t be able to breathe without her.
Tonight, he kisses like he’s won his prize.
Cups her cheek with his hand as Stelle’s hand goes up to teasingly fiddle with a nipple. When he bucks against her fingers, she tweaks at it a little more forcefully. Dan Heng sighs. She drapes her arms over his shoulder, hands curled in a desperate fist.
A rope of spit keeps them connected even as their mouths part.
There’s a hazy look in Stelle’s eyes that Dan Heng can’t get enough of.
Wanting more of it, he finally towers over her properly. Any feistiness she’d had earlier had mellowed out for now, tamed by his kisses. Dan Heng decides it’s the perfect time to have her melt on his fingers.
A gentle trail made by his lips down her neck, then straight to her collarbone. The pristine surface irks him—instinctively, he sucks a bruise onto it which she sighs at. Its beautiful discoloration against her skin excites him. He can paint her like this, with his mouth. She would let him.
Right now though, he wants to shower her in praise.
“You’ve made many sacrifices to get here,” he murmurs against the crest of a breast. A ticklish breath runs over the sensitive area. “Let me thank you properly.”
Her hand curls into his hair at his promise. Hips bucking toward him despite the palm rested firmly on it. Dan Heng never breaks his promises.
His tongue meets her nipple and she sighs. While one of his hands traces the curve of her waist, its pair kneads her other breast. Ticklish at her sides, she lets out a little laugh that makes his heart soar. He likes making her feel good. He likes the sound of her joy.
Dan Heng takes his mouth off with a loud pop. When he looks up, Stelle’s golden eyes are darkened by blown-out, dilated pupils.
Oh, he likes her like this.
He drags his tongue down from her sternum to her navel. His chin brushes the hairs below. He slows down, taking his time—much to her dismay. She twines her legs around his shoulders in an effort to get him to move. He presses a kiss to the outer junction of her hip and leg. So close, yet not enough so.
She moves her hands from his hair to the base of his horns. The shudder that goes through him is undeniable.
He looks up at her.
She grins at him.
“All’s fair in sex and war.”
“It’s in your best interest to behave,” he says, slowly, each word measured, “while I’m still being kind to you.”
The implication sends her head backward onto the pillow.
He pulls at her underwear, freeing her cunt from its confines.
This time, Stelle stays obedient. Tries her best to stay still as Dan Heng laps at the insides of her thighs, his warm breath only ghosting over where she wants him. Keeps herself in place as he moves to the other thigh, his hand beginning a slow journey to where her legs meet. When a finger finally hooks where she needs him—Stelle moans at the barest touch.
“Eager,” Dan Heng remarks, amused. “That’s what I like about you.”
She tugs at his hair again, one finger dangerously close to where his horn meets his head. “Two can play this game, Dan Heng.”
He laughs. “I’m getting there. So impatient.”
As if to reward her for her good behavior, Dan Heng puts out his tongue unabashedly. Her eyes grow wide. He lets go of this disguise for a tiny moment, the appendage elongating like a lizard’s would be like.
Or like a dragon’s would.
“You’ve been hiding that from me?”
She tugs at his hair again. She feels like she’s dying with lust, and she wants to feel that unusual tongue on her before she finally succumbs.
Much to her gratitude, he actually begins to give her the attention she’s been wanting. A warm tongue licks a stripe over her cunt so tantalizingly slow, she tries to push further into his hold. He chuckles against her sensitive flesh—the rumbling of his mouth making her shiver. His teeth hunt out the arch of her clit, making her yelp. But he soothes it quickly, tongue a loving warmth over it before it starts to wind her up with tiny circles.
But she’s still whining, still complaining that it’s still not enough. And Dan Heng isn’t going to have that. Holding her hips in place by the crux of her thighs, forcing her against the bed, he opens her cunt up to him and then slides that skillful tongue inside her waiting hole.
Stelle yells.
So hard that for sure the entire palace—the entirety of the Luofu—had heard her. But just as quickly as she’d exploded in the feeling, she’s curled up around him, pulling herself half-sitting up using his hair as an anchor. He groans at the tug against his scalp and that only makes her cry out louder.
This is the first time he’s ever done this, so he’s not really sure what he’s doing. He follows the sound of her voice instead, each shaky note that the attention of his tongue drags out of her. He swirls his tongue around. He pokes and prods. He thrusts in and out, snagging his tongue at the rim with more pressure. He gives it a good suck.
Stelle’s fingers finally curl around his horn and a full shudder runs through his back. It gets him to pull away from her, only to see a frustrated expression, fucked out and yet…
“Not enough,” she says, panting. “Not enough…”
Dan Heng is nothing if a man that satisfies.
All of the teasing from earlier has made her so wet that there’s not even a hint of friction when he slides a finger inside, his tongue retreating. No resistance—ready and waiting for him. Her insides clench around his digit. It’s not enough. He knows. While continuing to tease her with his mouth, he pulls out his middle finger. Then slides his ring finger in together with it the next moment.
“Oh, aeons. ” Her voice is trembling. Just like he likes it.
The years they’ve been together—though they feel like but weeks to him—have made him an expert at getting her off. Sure, there are still new things to try—like earlier—but otherwise, he’s mastered the art of it. The right pace. The right places. The correct positions. It helps a lot that he likes being here, between her legs—her thighs eagerly holding his head in place. Sex is great, but there is no better gratification than offering her his full attention without any distractions. Just him, the bridge to her pleasure.
Dan Heng hooks a finger up to that spot which makes her see stars. He knows he’s gotten it right when her grasp around his hair tightens, her thighs locking. A broken moan comes out of her mouth, which might be his name, but he’s not too sure. It doesn’t take long for him to feel her pussy begin to throb around his fingers. Her voice breaks with high-pitched whines. His tongue pinpoints the area that is the most sensitive to touch. The arm holding her hips down is starting to lose to her movements.
Just a little more, he thinks to himself. You can take it, Stelle. You can take it. He wonders, if he looks up, will there be tears in her eyes? He knows so. Beautiful, mesmerizing tears from overstimulation. From feeling to good. Cum for me. You can let go.
Stelle isn’t telepathic, but it’s as if she hears her cue. With a yell that surely rings throughout the palace, she collapses like a star around her lover, her back arching off of the bed, interlocked legs around his torso tensing with the intensity of her orgasm. Dan Heng lets go of her clit, but continues to pump his fingers around her pulsing cunt until she’s swatting him away with a hand.
She tucks a finger underneath his chin and urges him upward. Not caring about the wetness around his face, she pulls him into a passionate kiss that leaves even Dan Heng moaning.
“What did I do to deserve a pussy-eater like you?”
Dan Heng flushes. “This is what I meant about coarse language.”
She grins wolfishly. “You like it.”
He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Maybe.”
Dan Heng moves, aiming to get a little more comfortable—but their position makes his painfully hard cock brush against her stomach. On instinct, he thrusts upward against the warmth. She laughs, a hand reaching down toward it.
“Always so sensitive,” she teases. “But you can do better, can’t you?”
Dan Heng licks his lips. The needs of his Vidyadhara self are already humming underneath his skin. With her orgasm dealt with, now his body begs to be paid attention to.
She cups his cheek. “Nervous?”
“Yes,” he confesses. A sorry expression rises on his face—she raises a hand to his cheek to soothe him. “You have not… taken me… in my dragon form. I fear I will hurt you.”
Ah, yes. Tempering the High Elder’s draconic instincts. This is what it entails—to take him, to receive him fully in his dragon form. Once she does so, he will leave a mark on her with his powers—a testament to their union, their agreement as Offering and High Elder.
Stelle had seen glimpses of his dragon form a couple of times. His horns are generally on full display, but his tail is something that only comes out when he feels most comfortable. She supposes there are other parts of him that change, too, when he lets go of his usual form.
“You will not hurt me,” she assures him. “It’s not like you will turn fully into a dragon, like a giant snake, or something.”
“No, it is just… certain parts,” he says sheepishly. “But it is still not the norm for a regular human. Pain might be inevitable.”
The way he hesitated at the words makes Stelle keenly aware of what he’s talking about. “Even if it is, I will forgive you.”
Dan Heng’s nose scrunches. “I wish to not cause enough harm for you to need to forgive me.”
“You will not,” she repeats, still confident. “Now show me what I’m working with.”
Dan Heng takes a steadying breath as he lets go of his usual disguise with a long sigh.
Small scales blossom out of his shoulders. The dark of his eyes—the more familiar gaze often cast to his subjects—give way to a brighter, teal pupil. His fingernails grow longer, inch-long claws.
The most prominent of changes, for Stelle, is always his tail. It materializes behind him, beautiful teal curled in comfortable loops. Somehow, it’s always the first thing she’s drawn to. She reaches out to touch it. Its scales are cool to the touch, but the rippling strength of muscles below becomes apparent when he wraps it around her waist like another limb. Tonight, it curls lightly around the arm she’s used to touch it.
Soon, his expression changes to that of relief. It isn’t much change to his usual appearance as the High Elder, but it is still enough to cost energy. Keeping appearances must take a toll on him.
“You’ve always looked so beautiful like this,” Stelle croons, a hand reaching out to stroke his scales gently with the tips of her fingers. “Must you really hide this form from most people?”
“It is preferable to not look so… intimidating, when addressing others,” Dan Heng explains. “A sense of similarity aids in mutual understanding.”
“Well,” she hums, “I like you intimidating. But now—” (she grazes her hand on his bare abdomen) “—I think we ought to be doing more than talking.”
Stelle traces her hand upward his torso; he tilts backward onto his elbows as she closes the distance between their lips. In this even-closer-to-dragon form, Dan Heng’s fangs are much more prominent; they scratch at the surface of her tongue when she slides it in. The pricking sensation makes her moan. His hand reaches to cup her cheek, as if in apology.
Not that he needs to, because the pain only urges Stelle on. A deeper part of her wants to see how far she can push her limits tonight—how far she can make Dan Heng push her. She parts from him to catch her breath. Takes a moment to drag a pillow underneath him so he doesn’t press against his tail painfully on the mattress. Then curls a hand around his firm bicep for balance as she moves to straddle him properly. She brushes his cock with the motion, and it twitches happily at the attention. It makes her grin.
“Must you always make those sorts of faces when we’re…”
“When we’re what, Dan Heng?” she asks, looking up to look him dead in the eye. Ever-innocent look on her face. “What exactly, Yinyue-jun?”
“You’re a brat,” is all he replies, squeezing her face with one hand and pulling her toward him again for another kiss. When she complies, that hand of his goes to cup her bare ass, squeezing to push her forward, closer to him. She does, but that’s about the limit of her obedience.
While sucking on Dan Heng’s tongue, her one hand leisurely comes down to wrap around his cock.
He pulls away with a gasp, his head thrown back at the sudden stimulation.
Stelle continues to pump his mostly-human looking dick, but watches with a quiet fascination as it continues to harden in her grasp. The more it does, the more its less-than-human features start to show. Its size is one, but that’s not all. Teal protrusions made of what feels like cartilage extend from the main body—a long bumpy ridge runs right through the center line at the bottom side. At the sides, tiny patches of scales bloom partly at the hip-end.
At this point of her staring, Dan Heng has fully laid down in bed, an arm covering his eyes. His long ears are pink, and twitching. The scales on his shoulders have multiplied, blooming like raindrops on his chest, with some even coming out of his sides. Stelle takes that as a good sign.
He’s letting go.
She runs a careful touch over the ridge she’s now so fascinated about, watching with undeniable glee as Dan Heng shivers and shudders at the motion.
“This is what you were so scared to show me?” she asks, her voice in that teasing lilt. “I can’t believe you. You don’t think I’m a coward, now do you?”
Dan Heng seethes, but she can tell it’s only from the stimulation and not anger. “You’re missing the point.”
“It’s pretty,” Stelle continues, as if not having heard him. She moves herself backward, so her lips hover over his hips. She breathes hot air onto his cock, enjoying the way it twitches in response. Dan Heng refuses to look at her, still. “It’s unusual, but it’s pretty. I could look at it all day.”
“Do not.”
“Why not?” she laughs—then gasps comically. “Oh, because I should do more than stare, is that it?”
Without any additional warning, she takes his cock into her mouth and sucks.
Dan Heng’s hips try to keen off the bed, and if it weren’t for her one arm holding him in place he for sure would have thrusted the entire length of him down her throat. She can barely fit the tip into her mouth—lucky move to hold him down, because what would she have torn otherwise? She cackles as her mouth is freed.
“Would your cloudhymn magic have been able to heal me if you’d fucked my face out?”
Dan Heng groans. “Yes, but please don’t say that.”
“Just making sure.”
Still, she cares for her face, so she focuses on using her hands instead. One hand is too small to enclose the girth of it; she needs part of the other too. All the pre-cum that leaked out earlier makes each movement easy, his cock sliding too well despite all its… irregularly shaped parts. Stelle continues like this for a while, thinking she may be able to get him off at least once first—but soon his hands swat her away.
He’s not covering his face now, she realizes at the touch of his hands on her face, and when she looks up—
Aeon Nanook knows no destruction like how Dan Heng’s face ruins her at that moment.
The Vidyadhara equivalent of flushed face, dilated pupils—he’s looking down at her with teal eyes gleaming with an otherworldly glow. His horns shimmer with the same brilliance, and scales have started to peer out of his neck, too. His tail is curled tensely behind him, wanting and waiting to pounce. Blood dribbles slowly from the corner of his lip, which she realizes is where he’d bitten too hard with a fang.
She swallows, heat suddenly engulfing her body.
All fantasies of having been in control of him dissipate in an instant. Now, she is his prey—and him, her inescapable predator.
When she smiles at him—gives him permission, gives him her yes—the world turns upside down.
Dan Heng doesn’t even use his hands to flip her over. His strong tail lifts her up from over him to plant her—rather unforgivingly—on the sheets. This same tail curls around one of her legs, lifting it up; allowing Dan Heng easy access as he hovers over her with the depths of hunger in his bright eyes.
He places one hand underneath her other leg.
“It will hurt,” he says, with the certainty of a man whose orders will be followed. The will of a Vidyadhara High Elder. “It will hurt, but you will take it.”
Stelle swallows. “Yes.”
“Good. ”
Dan Heng lifts her hips with a reckless kind of ease, grazing the tip of his dick against her waiting hole. He has half a mind to consider if all her foreplay and the orgasm from earlier might not have been enough, but by the time it really sinks in, the tip of him is already in her tight, hot, wet heat—and all rational thought disappears.
He urges himself deeper onward, bit by agonizing bit, his heart beating angrily in his chest. It’s tight. Too tight. He shifts where his one arm is pressed against the bed. When it moves, Stelle’s hand flies up to curl around his arm.
Dan Heng gets shaken out of his reverie by a sound.
Stelle is crying.
“Stelle?” he pauses, mortified. “Stelle, oh no…”
She bites back a sob. “I’m okay.”
“You are not.” He makes sure to keep his hips completely still, instead pressing his forehead against hers. “We can stop.”
“No!” The power in her denial surprises him. “I can take it.”
“You are crying. ”
She cackles; a small, fragile sound. “Tears of joy, honestly.”
“Stelle…”
She brings a hand to cup his cheek. “I can and I will.” She says it with her I will not take no for an answer tone.
She won’t let him stop, but he can be careful. “You will tell me when it is too much.”
“I will personally kick you out of me, Dan Heng.”
He takes a deep breath. “I would not fault you for that.”
Bracing himself on one arm and cupping her cheek with the other, Dan Heng continues to slide his cock inside of her. The tightness from earlier has simmered out—instead replaced by the usual tenseness of muscles adjusting to a new strain. Maybe Stelle did need reassurance. He did, surely. He brushes a thumb over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Her hand claws out scratch marks down his back as small whines and whimpers betray her struggle.
It feels like it takes forever, but eventually, Dan Heng bottoms out, and Stelle rolls her head backward onto the pillow in relief.
The High Elder keeps a careful eye on her—checking for pain, for discomfort—but he’s surprised when he hears her laughing instead.
“It just went on and on and on,” she says, her voice a little shaky. She lifts her head and gives him a cheeky look. “Paused and wondered if you were elongating it on purpose.”
Dan Heng frowns. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, but you can?”
“I can’t .”
“Oh. Definitely felt like it, though.”
Well, her talkativeness at least tells Dan Heng that she isn’t in horrifying pain. At the very least, it is tolerable enough to laugh around at. He’s not quite in the same boat, gritting his teeth, forcing himself not to move. It’s getting harder by the second—but he has to make sure she is fine first.
Gasps. “Stelle—”
She turns her head to kiss where his hand is fisted next to her head. Ah—the hand he was using to cup her face is now tense with the effort of staying in control. Dan Heng inhales as he unravels the fist. Stelle looks on at him as if he’s the one facing consequences.
“Does it hurt?”
He frowns. “I should be the one asking you.”
“Well, I’m already asking you, so.”
Stelle is so stubborn when she gets to it. Dan Heng has half a heart to lie. Only half. Through gritted teeth, he confesses: “It does.”
She lifts one hand to clasp his free hand; curls her other one on his braced arm. Preparing for impact.
“Then move.”
The sound of her permission alone makes Dan Heng groan lowly, his forehead resting on the top of her breastbone—and then, as asked, he moves.
Her hands fly to the nape of his neck as a moan comes out on its own.
It’s… different, but it’s not bad. Truthfully, when she was holding him in her hands, she thought it would feel much… worse, given its peculiarity. But she can barely feel its odd shape now that he’s inside of her.
She can surely feel the size, though.
“You’re so— aeons…” Dan Heng prepares to say something, only to get interrupted with— “So good, so good.”
The tears that had made her eyes water earlier were undeniably of pain—but now, as Dan Heng finds a slow, forgiving rhythm while driving into her, the tears that slide out of her eyes are from overwhelming pleasure.
It’s too much, all at once.
Dan Heng had always said that, in this form, his composure isn’t the best. But she hadn’t imagined it would translate into this—gibberish mumbles pouring out of his lips between groans as his cock relishes the warmth of her insides; the muscles of the tail around her leg contracting and squeezing with each of Dan Heng’s movements; his open hand by the side of her face trembling against her cheek; his breath hot against her ear.
Like he’d completely let go.
And all for her?
Just the mere thought of it nearly sends Stelle into madness.
“Dan Heng, please,” she begs, the coil in her gut tightening with every little sound he makes. “Please, Dan Heng… let me… I might…”
The man looks up at her from where he’d tucked his face at the crook of her shoulder and the sight of his hungry eyes alone sends her over the edge.
Where she had been pliant and receptive, her orgasm switches on hunger in her; hands flying to his face as she pulls him into a kiss, her legs wrapping around his waist to keep him in place as her muscles go taut. Dan Heng groans at her surrender to pleasure, rutting lightly anyway to prolong her stay at her peak. She cries out against his lips until her entire body goes limp.
Dan Heng is shaking when Stelle comes to.
His one arm trembling, struggling to keep him in place. His honest tail pulses small squeezes around her raised leg. She can almost hear his heart palpitating in his chest. His breath is uneven, he’s basically gasping for air.
She reaches out a hand to cradle his cheek. “You look like you’re in pain.”
When he looks up at her, there’s a hazy look in his eyes. A mirror of her from earlier: “Not enough…”
“I know,” she says. “Let me help.”
It doesn’t take much for Stelle to maneuver the lust-addled Dan Heng into a yielding position. His cock stays inside of her as she turns them over, straddling him instead once more. Dan Heng sighs as her hips hit his, forcing him all the way inside. She braces her arms on his chest.
“Your turn to feel good.”
Stelle’s legs are jelly and her arms aren’t any better, but the look on Dan Heng’s face drives her on. She steadies herself against his scale-dotted torso and grinds her hips up and down against his. In this position, she can feel better the shape of his cock; the recognition of each ridge sends a wave of heat up her body.
This is her dragon. Hers, and hers alone.
However, despite her best efforts, her movements seem not enough for the wanting Vidyadhara; he soon finds it in him to grab her hips himself. Stelle collapses, fatigue chasing her, as Dan Heng does the work for her. He pushes her up and down against his cock. Thrusting haphazardly into her heat, the noises made by where their skin meets both scandalous and adamant.
Mine. Mine mine mine.
Dan Heng nuzzles her neck with his nose. It makes her shiver. It takes her another moment to realize he’s hunting for her pulse—hunting for the spot to mark her. She croons once she feels his fangs graze her jugular; it’s sensitive and pounds with the beat of her heart. With a deep breath, she waits for the stinging pain that will accompany the bite, when—
His stray fingers curl around her clit, urging her, pushing her. When Stelle tries to throw her head back at the sensation, Dan Heng’s hand holds her in place, keeping his teeth against her pulse. Stelle blabbers, part of his name, part agreement, part desperation; just as she trembles and briefly loses all consciousness at everything—his thrusts, his teeth, his scent, the sound of his voice—Dan Heng sinks his teeth into the soft flesh.
The power that floods through him at the marking pushes him off the edge as well, white spend trickling down between their thighs as he tastes her blood in his mouth.
Stelle feels the sting of it once she comes to. But at that point it has been numbed by his cloudhymn magic, leaving only a telling mark.
Warmth—not lust, but that of love—blossoms in Stelle’s chest once she realizes what had happened. She laughs—light and airy, no hint of exhaustion on it.
“You’re way too pleased for someone who is injured,” Dan Heng comments, although his voice is weak from exertion.
“What, this?” she asks, brushing the wound over with her hand. It feels sore—but not painful. “It’s a badge of honor.”
“You truly are something.”
As Stelle curls an arm around his torso—intending to listen to the rapid thuds of his heart—she feels the tickle of his cold scales against her hot, flushed skin. They’d already multiplied compared to earlier, dotting his bare skin in various places. She looks him up and down to see just how far they’d reached. She notices a spot particularly populated around his hips when she gets distracted.
Dan Heng follows her gaze.
“Is this…” Stelle gets up on her elbows; Dan Heng sits himself up as well. The movement causes their crotches to jostle. They both shudder at the feeling—but then she is reaching for a spot at the bottom side of her belly.
A small pause as they both consider it carefully.
Stelle recognizes it faster than Dan Heng, for once. When he does not react, she offers…
“Is this… you?”
There’s a small bulge, barely visible but very palpable, right underneath her fingers. Dan Heng stares as if his brain had turned off for a full moment. When it comes back on, the confidence in his face gives way to the flush of embarrassment.
“...It seems it is.”
Stelle laughs. A full-bodied laugh that nearly knocks him out of her, had he not been holding her in place. Dan Heng clears his throat.
She grins. “For someone who is only half-hard…”
“Do not bring it up, please,” he murmurs, burying his face in her shoulder. “Have you not had enough of teasing me?”
“I’m just being a good Offering, am I not?” she teases. “If my High Elder wishes to go another round, then it is not something I can oppose to.”
“You can and should.”
“Aww, there’s no need to be shy now, Dan Heng.”
He finally looks up from her. He’s glaring, but his ears are red anyway. Stelle smirks.
“Oh? Poking the dragon got me a reaction?”
“You do not want to trigger any more… instincts,” he says, half-heartedly. “I do not want to lose control while I am with you.” A pause. “Not tonight, anyway.”
The way the sentence hangs makes her grin. “So other nights, then?”
“I would rather not,” he reiterates, pulling her closer to him. He sneaks the chastest of kisses, like they hadn’t just spent the past eternity rutting into each other like wild beasts. “I’d prefer to always be fully aware when I am with you.”
You’re more than just a warm body to me, is what he says, and Stelle knows it.
She cups his cheeks with her hands and steals a kiss as well. “You’ve always been such a romantic.”
He turns away, shy. “Must you bring that up always?”
“I find it adorable. A charming part of you.” She kisses his cheek. The scales are cool against her lips. “I do have one question, though.”
“What is it?”
“My understanding is that Vidyadhara cannot—and do not need—to procreate, yes?”
Dan Heng blinks. “Yes.”
“Then… why the urge to mate? Especially for High Elders.”
He takes a moment to consider, the hand on her thigh thumbing the flesh gently. Dan Heng seems genuinely conflicted about the matter, or perhaps he doesn’t know how to express it to her without sounding like he’s demanding it from her.
He goes like this—
“The inability to produce offspring,” he says, slowly, “does not change the desire for intimacy and company.”
“I see.” Like clicking in place. “I guess no species is immune to loneliness.”
“Indeed.” He squeezes her thigh. “That is why mating is an act reserved for truly special bonds. There are legends that say mating bonds last throughout incarnations, even. Although the validity of those claims are uncertain.” He continues. “Of course, this is an act that isn’t inclusive to High Elders and Offerings alone, but to all Vidyadhara who wish to partake in such… tradition,” Dan Heng explains. “On the contrary… it has been a few incarnations since a High Elder truly ‘marked’ an Offering in that sense.”
“Oh? So what you did does not count?”
“No,” he says. “Such a mark—it only counts to satisfy the Preceptors, a proof of… goings-on.” He purses his lips. “Marking for a mate… is an entirely different thing. It is less physical as it is… how to say…”
“Magical?”
“In a way.”
“Mm…” she hums. “So will you do it to me?”
Dan Heng gasps, obviously scandalized. “Don’t ask for it so casually!”
“What?” she giggles. “I am just asking if you ever plan to do so. We’re not exactly in the same circumstances as other High Elders and Offerings.”
“...That is true,” Dan Heng agrees. Then, after a beat: “You are different.”
“Good ‘different’?”
“Good ‘different’. You’re different to me.” He presses a kiss on the mark on her neck. “You’re not just an Offering to me. You are everything.”
Tilting her face toward him, Dan Heng seals her lips with his. Part of it is a promise, assurance of what he had just pledged; part of it remains to be hunger, the unfulfilled thrumming of draconic instincts to claim, to own, to treasure coiling in his gut. Stelle lets him. She places her hands on his shoulders for purchase.
Her hair falls soft against him, silver strands tickling bare skin and scales. Everywhere she touches is scalding.
Dan Heng surrenders.
Two hands wander to Stelle’s sides as he slowly guides her hips against his again. The now all-too-familiar embers of heat quickly light up in both of them. They find it again, their rhythm. Her chest pressed against his; the back of her head cradled by his hand. Its claws gently grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Dan Heng…” she croons, her hips flush against his. “Dan Heng…”
The name that’s only hers to keep. To everyone else, he is Imbibitor Lunae, Yinyue-jun. Only to Stelle is he ever Dan Heng. The only one he entrusts his name to.
He’d entrust everything to her. When she asks for his time, he will give her all hours of the day. When she asks for his attention, nothing else will exist but her. When she asks to be loved, he will hold her tenderly until her heart ceases to doubt his affections.
When she asks for his life, he will offer it in full.
Perhaps it is her own lust, or perhaps it is the way his powers sway tenaciously around them, a heavy envelope of yearning. Everything feels so much more now than it did before. Everywhere they touch they are on fire. Every movement is dizzying. Every little whimper, every shattered moan echoing insistently in his ears.
The spot where he’d marked her earlier glows a hot gold branded on her skin—and somehow he can feel it, too. Stelle sighs and shivers as she begins to grind eagerly against him, chasing another high. Hunger curls like dragons in their bellies.
This isn’t enough. Having her in his arms—being held by him like this—it isn’t enough.
The need to own, the longing to be owned, cries out in their chests as Stelle rests a tired head against his shoulder.
“Dan Heng…” she whines, powerless against the churning waves of desire that are wracking her, mind and soul. She burns for him, the same way he does for her.
The Vidyadhara High Elder knows exactly what both of them need…
But he wants to ask her, properly.
He tucks a hand at the side of her face and gets her to look at him. The heat of his gaze lifts the fog that has clouded over her eyes. She cries out at how intensely his teal eyes sink her into submission.
She wants him, who owns her. “Dan Heng…”
“I’m going to mark you again, Stelle,” he says, slowly. “I’ll mark you, but this time, it’ll make you mine for all eternity. It’ll make me yours—your caretaker, your keeper.” He breathes, hot on her shoulder. “A possession of a Scion of Permanence… there will not be a single day where I will not long for you. And for every second, your heart will seek me, wanting for me to hold you.” A kiss on the crook of her neck. “Will you let me, Stelle?”
Oh, Dan Heng. If only he knew the Aeons do not know devotion like hers towards him.
She curls a hand into the back of his head, threading her fingers in the strands of his hair.
“Grant me eternity, Dan Heng.”
Something in him finally breathes at her acceptance.
Grateful, Dan Heng tugs at her face from her chin and steals a kiss she surrenders to, all thrumming need. She anchors her arms around his neck, slowly grinding against his hips once more. Tension from anticipation melts into a relaxing kind of heat. Dan Heng waits for her to fully ease before he begins.
His mouth against hers—an eager distraction—he touches two delicate fingers against the nape of her neck. Under it, a crescent-shaped mark blooms on her skin. Later, with the aid of a mirror, she will see that it is a dragon curled along the crest of a wave.
For now, his marking sends an electric sensation exploding through her body, and Dan Heng has to hold her down to keep her from jolting off the bed completely.
Hisses as an orgasm of his own wracks him.
Tears fall down Stelle’s cheeks at the intensity of it all, all her muscles clenching and releasing as she braces herself against her lover defenselessly. Sighs and sobs as she gives in to the power coursing through.
And then... she starts laughing.
Even Dan Heng is taken aback by it. “That was—” she begins, but then chokes. Despite the exhaustion seeping in, Stelle finds it in her heart to hit him in the chest. “You didn’t warn me about that!”
“Ahaha,” is all he manages to say, pressing a hand around her cheek to wipe off a tear stain. “Sorry, then.”
He pulls out of her at the same time his tail loosens around her leg. Fluids pool out, but that’s to be bothered about later. Dan Heng curls his tail possessively over Stelle’s midsection instead. She pats it gently, its cool scales underneath her warm palms.
She sighs, although without any sort of upset, when she sees his face. “You are guiltless.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Have you not considered the feeling might be relief?”
“That is not what relief looks like,” Stelle muses. “You are proud of yourself.”
“Perhaps I am.” A smug grin on his face betrays him. “Things are going smoothly for us, after all.”
Dan Heng stresses this as he gently urges her toward him, a hand underneath her head so he can kiss her properly. At this point, both their lips are bruised pink-red, but there’s no having enough of one another after they’d pulled out such a feat with the Preceptors.
And done all this.
Stelle bumps foreheads with him when they part to catch their breaths.
Where he'd marked her shines dimly in the low light, brimming with his power. It makes his heart hum with delight.
“Looks like I was successful in keeping your draconic instincts in check?” she asks.
Dan Heng flushes red. “Shush about that.”
In a bit, Dan Heng is going to get up to run them a bath in the next room. He’ll carry Stelle from bed—and she will laugh—and he will clean her thoroughly with scented soap before dipping her into the water of the tub. Stelle will play with the flower petals that adorn their little bath, and they will sit in its warmth together for a while before Dan Heng eventually dries her off and carries her back to bed. Then, they will go to sleep, and tomorrow, Stelle can flaunt her marks all she wants.
For now, they curl into each other’s embrace until they find the strength to get up.
They have time.