The Reborn Witch had a nice 'Tea Time' with the Dragon Queen today-Chapter 43: Where Petals Part and the Dragon Claims (R18)

A heavy breath clentched around Demond's throat as she glared at the dragon, her eyes narrowing in a mix of annoyance and arousal. The fabric of the lace undergarment clung to her skin briefly before it gave way to the dragon's strength, leaving her exposed and vulnerable in the moonlit chamber. Demond's cheeks burned a brighter shade of red, the same color as the roses that grew in the garden she had come only to despise, yet the redness of her cheek, and the cherries on the larger ones...it was a color that spoke of a different kind of passion, one her nail would happily carve with the heat of claw.

"A-Adrei...you...." the witch stuttered, her eyes narrowing as she scowled at her dragon husband. The small tremblng frame resembled a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a predator, yet the perverted spirit behind those eyes was as potent as ever. She hastily brought her arms up to over her chest and the 'Miss Berry' underneath, the fabric of her undergarments already falling aside to the floor. In the hasty judgement to cover herself, the old mage's intellegence was put to waste, for the act of simply picking them back up and putting them on again was forgotten.

Through the curtain of her own shyness, Demond watched as the dragon's eyes devoured her, the pupils dilating with a hunger that could swallow the moon itself. Yet, Adrei remained still, her clawed hands curled into fists at her sides, a testament to the self-control that had been honed over centuries of war and diplomacy. The air grew thick with a tension that was as potent as the scent of the garden's night blooms, the very essence of their unspoken desires a masterful potion that intoxicated the room.

"You promised...no touching..." The witch gasped, her eyes pleading despite the heat that danced in on her chest and underneath. Her protest was a mere mumur when clashing against the sporadic itch that tingled her spine, thighs, cheek, and lips.

"I did." Adrei's voice was low, a smoldering ember that promised warmth and comfort. "But I never said you couldn't touch me."

A simple loophole by a professional pervert, a supposed amateur in seductress, as the dragon tugged in her sleeves like countless times before, only this time, the meaning was embedded within her soul for the curious, heated eyes of the witch, wishing to burrow the same passion that consumed the dragon's eyes into her own body.

It is often told by her sibiling that eyes were windows to her soul, one of many quotes by Demond, so when her robe fell to the floor with a whisper of fabric, the dragon felt the heat from her gaze like a dragon's breath upon her scales. She mused as the witch's eyes darted over her, taking in every detail, her pupils dilating with the same hunger that mirrored hers.

"Come now, Demond." The dragon purred, as she latched her arms under the pillow, the large buldgness shifting slightly to accommodate her wife's weight. "Aren't you in as much need as I am?"

The witch gulped, grumbled as she stepped closer to Adrei, the coolness of the floor a stark reminder only for leaning into the heat that radiated from the dragon's body. She reached out, her slender fingers tracing the scaled skin with a careful, stuttering, yet firm touch. The dragon's breath coiled into itself as she felt the witch's finger traveled, the warmth seeping into her very core.

And...to the cherry she has been curious about since the bath. As if determination would allow her to ignore the throbbing between her legs, Demond's hand reached for the plant. In her mind, Adil the Druid's teachings of the garden's fragile life cycle tinged the corner of her mind, a lesson of carrassing a simple petal without the intent to harm it.

Yet, the petal that she wished to caress was not so simple; it was a living, breathing part of a body that grew and grew with each passing second, as if the garden itself was blooming into a fiery sunflower. The twirl, then a circling squeeze, it was as if the moon tilted and graced upon the petal, afraid to burn it yet eager to feel its warmth. The dragon's breath grew heavy, her eyes half-lidded, as the moonful wife explored a newfound treasure that she submit herself for.

Adil's lesson once again came in handy, as Demond's index and thumb closed around the cherry, gently nipping it, the heat and the pulse of Adrei's desire beneath her fingertips. The dragon's eyes narrowed, her pupils dilating as she let out a slight moan, the sound resonating through the chamber and setting the very air alight with passion.

The witch pulled away, blinking, as she traced her hand that almost seemed heavy and precious as a jewllery, before her brain plopped with a volcanic magma-like realization. "I...I did it....I..." The former mage whispered to herself, her cheeks aflame, the chillingness of her eyes that once numbed her regrets now flustered upon by a mere petal, the same eyes that met with the dragon's with a glint of victory, and perhaps...fear.

The dragon smiled, her cheek reddened with her wife's bumbling discovery of flower-picking. She leaned in, her hot breath tickling Demond's neck as she whispered, "quite a gentle-manly touch, do you wish it upon yourself, too?"

"Hic-I..." The witch once again realised she is bare and exposed, as if her own hand had turned into a treacherous serpent that bit her, before slithering back up her pillows. She stuttered, her face a tomato, as she hastily retreated her gaze to the floor, the moon's glow now a harsh spotlight on her embarrassment.

"Grr...I still need time, yes I still need time, but...ah, why out of all non-existent 'could-have-been-hook-ups', it has to be a pervert like you...?" Demond's voice was a whirlwind of emotions, a mix of frustration, shyness, and an undeniable spark of curiosity. She looked up at Adrei, her eyes glinting with a hint of defiance that denied not defeat but helplessness.

"So, shall I?" The dragon's finger was raised and curled up, as Adrei tilted her head innocently, the stretch of muscles and scales seemingly mocking Demond's shyness.

"F-fine! Just a simple touch...right, we're married, aren't we?" Demond grumbled, her feet shuffling closer to the dragon. She could feel the heat of Adrei's body as she approached, the anticipation of what was to come making her heart race.

Hesitancy piled upon more hesitancy, yet the eventuality and a nonsensual anticipation a heavy weight on her arm, as Demond's serpents around her own cherries retired themselves to the side. Her eyes darted up, meeting Adil's gaze, the dragon's eyes smoldering, the ember that once enveloped with kindness roared into a flame of desire.

She admired the gorgeous blush on her wife's face, feeling a swell of affection. The dragon's smile grew wider as she leaned in, her nose grazing the witch's soft skin, inhaling the sweet scent that was uniquely Demond. Her hand reached up, and with a feather-light touch, she traced the curve of her wife's cheek before capturing her chin lightly. "You're so beautiful, even when you're blushing like a virgin."

"...I AM a virgin, Adrei. And yes, you don't need to drive the knife in." Demond pouted, the blush on her face deepening, as if the dragon's words were a tingely tease that tickled her very life and skin.

Adrei merely chuckled upon the slightly unexpected news, but she conveyed her respect and admiration for Demond's purity through a simple nod. Her eyes never left her wife's as she traced a fiery path from the tip of her chin, down the delicate neck, and over the little collarbone that stood out like the moonlit ridge of the clearing where they first kissed. Her touch was as soft as a feather, yet it sent a shiver down the witch's spine, the heat of her finger leaving a trail of sensation that made Demond's knees weak, her berry's throb in a coiling sensation.

The dragon's gaze was unwavering, filled with a mix of love and a predatory hunger that made the witch's heart flutter like a caged parrot. She leaned in closer, her nose brushing against Demond's, her finger circling over bones and flesh that quivered at the touch. The dragon's touch marked itself a territory, a pole of warmth that made Demond's skin quiver and her body arch towards the dragon's embrace.

"Don't avert your eyes, my love." The dragon's sincere tone was as warm as the embrace of the sun, her eyes boring into Demond's, urging her to look up. The witch, though still blushing and trembling, met her gaze with a spark of determination. The room's tension grew palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and the promise of passionate exploration.

"Trust me, please." Adrei, the peacekeeper, whispered, her voice a seductive coo that resonated in the quiet chamber. Her thumb brushed downward, the clawed nail trailing slowly as the dragon observed her wife's reaction for any protest, opposition or fear. The tyrant's blood always demanded dominance, yet tonight, the duty of a husband must prevail.

Her sincere plead was not lost on the witch. With a trembling breath, Demond nodded, her eyes never leaving Adil's as the dragon's thumb brushed over the cherry of her flower. The sensation was as surprising as it was intense, the first ever bloom of pleasure that had her body tightening and her eyes fluttering shut.

The dragon's thumb made small, firm circles that had the witch's breath hitching, the flower tended by an admiring, skilled gardener. Demond's hands, once ducking tightly into her thigh's flesh, now slid up to Adrei's shoulders, a compass for her trembling body. The dragon smiled and leaned in, as her wife's arms wrapped around her neck, the consent in that embrace as clear as the night sky she once ruled with her sisters.

The dragon's other hand began to trace the witch's waist, the smoothness of her stomach, the slender curve of her hip. Demond's eyes widened, but she didn't protest, instead leaning into the touch, her body arching towards the dragon's, a silent invitation to explore further.

Yet the tremble belied her fear. The dragon narrowed her eye, it seems the berry won't be caved in for tonight, however, her finger skated the cherry, the the plant's nodding to the gust that swiped it up and down, it was a gesture of bowing before the caretaker of extreme politeness, and Adil knew it was the time to retreat from her garden of curiosity.

However, what's left is for a carrass of the domed . The dragon chuckled at the disappointed whine as she retreated her finger. A caretaker should rest not her care but wrap her possessiveness around the soft garden that housed the flower. And so, the palm cupped what shall be hers, and only hers, as the witch's surprised gasp fluttered like a buzzing bee to her passion.

A caretaker shall never cease and let go, just as a lover for plant, she must hug tightly the body that coated the frosted garden, ensured the condition by sinking in for sensing the trembling of the heartbeat, before petting the cherry so that the quivering flower would not recoil away.

Demond moaned into the touch, leaning ever so slightly as her eyes, once full of defiance, now melded for seeking the 'cares' by her gardener. As the dragon tilted her head, she smirked as she leaned forward, her lips meeting hers.

The kiss was tender, a promise of more to come, a living storm that had been brewing for twenty years, and now, it had arrived. The waves of lips harmonised their breathings as one, the heats in their chest clashing over one another, as caretaking by the gardener never ceased. Adrei's teeth bit lightly on the bottom lip, before the permission needn't to be asked, as the prideful witch darted her tongue with hers.

The slight, belying competitiveness was only a match for the loving tenderness for one another. Their bodies sang together a tale of exploration, their tongues danced a ballet of raw artistry. Together, the gardener and her garden painted themselves the beauty of quiet understanding, no longer enemies of a bygone grudge, but a harmony for serendity and love.

And all serendity must end just as moon fell, the caretaker left her garden as Adrei breathed and remarked the scent of sweats in the air, their bodies now interlinked as she gazed down at her wife, panting with her cheeks that could plant a new tomato garden, yet her undefeated, half-lid eyes met hers, Adrei's promise to never avert her eyes not abandoned even admist their hungers for one another.

"L-let's go to bed..."

Acting non-chalent as if another day just passed, a hint of pride belied the witch's voice as the former old mage pushed herself off her embrace, the dragon blinked, then chuckled at the momentary bareness the witch allowed her to admire, before the serpents circled around again as if hissing weakly at the higher being who dared to intrude upon the misstress.

"Mmm. Let us do so, Demond."

"...mmm."

An awkward back-and-forth. One's mind as clear as an experienced gar-well, now a witch-carer, another's mind muddled as a former male's dignity not clung, not shred, but a sliver was found in her pitiful defiance, as her quivering, exhausted legs carried themselves to the bed, before slumping over with her back against the dragon, as she covered herself under the soft bedsheet.

Adrei smiled in understanding, as a husband should, she sat on the bed while making sure to keep a distance, her wife's mind must be at a turmoil for a lone processing, as she lied on the soft mattress, their backs facing each other like a couple who argued how they mixed up each other panties.

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In truth, however, the corner of Demond's mind seeked an embrace. Her...cherries still stood for the tackling in the tingely care of another, not to mention the clear emptiness surrounding 'Miss Berry' underneath.

And so, she instead hugged herself, curling into a ball whose gymnastic would have made an ashen-eyed fetal proud. Ah, except the petals seemed to protest and quiver, for the cold touches of her own could not match even the heated eyes of her dear partner.

...hehe. A defeated chuckle escape her lips, the 'this is new' freshness clashing over her pride. Yet, as the mattress shifted under the dragon's weight, the witch's hips sighed into the distance between them, like a flower bending toward the last stubbon sunbeam, not from autumn, but from those equally tender amber eyes.

Traitourous body, she curled up as the heat crawled on her cheeks, and yet, like wax that is destined to melt away under a dragon's breath, the wife's willful flowers waned more for the dragon's touch.