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"I was the one who taught her."

What the hell had he gotten himself into? Seducing--or had he been the one being seduced?--by his own sister, for Metsudah's sake. His kind were known for rather easygoing sexuality, but this was ridiculous. It had been wonderfully exciting in the moment, but now that his arousal had faded it was like a part of his soul had been submerged in icy water.

The one who taught her.

Now that was a thought that didn't bother him quite so much. Pouring his seed down his sister's throat may have been . . . slightly unethical. But the thought of a beautiful dragoness fantasizing about him--_him--_as she came? Somehow he didn't mind quite so much. Still though. . . .

Taught her.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Falon crouched low in the underbrush, listening to the snap of twigs as the man crept through the woods. He could tell the man was trying to be sneaky, but the noise he made was practically deafening amid the silence of early evening. That was good; it kept his mind from wandering. It would be dark soon, and by the way the man inched forward, turning constantly about, he was taking one last chance to seek one of the plentiful deer that roamed these hills.

Stomach giving a contented gurgle, Falon grinned. The man might not smell the blood, but his prey certainly could. He'd not find any quarry here for another day or two. The only creatures present at the moment were Falon and the human. Cautiously, he slipped forward from his hiding place, resting on the tips of his claws so as to move silently. The man continued on. Occasionally he turned, and Falon froze, low to the ground if possible. His scales would look maroon, if not outright black in the dim light, but he still did not want to draw the man's attention. That was, after all, the entire point of the game.

His nightlids blinked up over his eyes, but the brilliant glare that resulted made him wince. It was still too bright, and he quickly retracted them.

Once, before the war began, he'd gone hunting with Father. There had been some human, wandering about woods much like these, and with permission, Falon had begun tailing the man. He'd drawn within a tail's length, following the man at that distance nearly a quarter mile like some stray dog. The man had never even noticed.

For a brief, difficult moment, Falon missed his father. But the thought cost him--in his distracted state, he stepped poorly, his paw splitting a length of rotten branch. He halted, dropping instantly to the ground, but the man did not even hesitate. He merely walked on, unconcerned. Breathing a sigh of relief, Falon slowly rose.

"Evening," whispered a voice directly in his ear.

With a screech, Falon leapt vertical. His claws slashed and his wings buffeted his assailant as adrenaline shot through him. His foe was silent and fast--that meant deadly. His fangs were bared before his hindpaws even touched the ground.

Laughing, Seara darted out of his reach. Even with his heightened senses, it took him a moment to recognize her. The moment he dismissed her as a source of danger, he turned, seeking the human he'd been stalking. The man was gone, brush rustling as he fled. But a second later, there was a glimmer of movement, a hiss, and Falon's neck erupted in a blaze of pain.

He swore--loudly--and fell, a forepaw reaching up to find the shaft of the arrow buried in the side of his neck. He gasped a few breaths, relief mingling with pain as he realized he had no difficulty breathing. Nor did there seem to be any remarkable bleeding. It hurt like hell, but that seemed likely to be it.

Seara's eyes were full of panic however, as she loomed over him suddenly, nearly hysterical. Apologies, curses, and panicked cries all slurred together. He struggled for a few seconds to get her attention, but when that failed he flared a wing, dropping it across her face. She fell silent.

"I'm fine," he growled, each word making his neck throb with pain. "It's not bad, just hurts. I need you to pull it out."

Seara gave a small, hesitant nod. He pulled back his wing, and she quickly leaned forward, gingerly taking the shaft between her teeth. He yelped in pain at the resulting tremor, then roared as she yanked the arrow from his neck. Immediately, blood began to trickle down to his shoulder, though far less than he expected. He'd been lucky; an arrow like that could easily have killed him had it gone through his throat just a few inches away. He swallowed hard, feeling the wound shift slightly as he did so.

"Falon, I'm so, so sorry!" Seara cried. Her snout snaked forward to lap away the blood. The wound burned as her tongue brushed it, but grew pleasantly numb a minute later. "I just wanted to surprise you," she said. "I never meant for. . . that to happen. I didn't know."

He said nothing. It wasn't that he was angry--not really, at least--he was simply still in shock about the whole thing. He had this deep, lurking sense that if he tried to say anything it would end disastrously. So he lay weakly on his side, taking deep breaths, and staring off into the distance. From the corner of his eye he could see Seara fidgeting, and he felt a slight vindictive thrill. Let her worry. She'd nearly cost him his life; she could endure a few minutes of worrying about his reaction.

Once the better share of his adrenaline had faded, and the pain in his neck settled into a dull ache about a small, persistent sting, he rolled to his feet and rose. Seara looked at him desperately. He chuckled and leaned forward, kissing the tip of her snout. "Don't worry," he said, "I'm fine. And I forgive you. Doesn't mean I'm not a bit angry. But I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled then nuzzled her way beneath his chin, cautiously avoiding his wound. "I'm glad to hear it," she whispered. The corners of her mouth slowly curled upward, and she rubbed against him. "If you're angry though. . . why don't you punish me? I'm sure big sister can handle it."

From nowhere, Falon's bestial side emerged, roaring. The suddenness of his desire appeared so suddenly that he actually gasped, pulling back in surprise. Seara's brow furrowed, but the sight of her only made his emotions rage more strongly, and he quickly shut his eyes.

She was his sister. Just moments earlier he'd been chastising himself for his previous indiscretion. He couldn't take advantage of the opportunities she presented, no matter how sorely tempted he was. Rea. . . was not here; Seara was. But they had been born of the same mother, grown up together, wrestled and played and flown as younglings. She was still the same curious, childish creature she'd always been--the beautiful, compassionate dragoness who stood before him was not. . . she--

She wanted him. And damned if he didn't want her too. But he shouldn't. He couldn't.

And suddenly she was kissing him. Her lips brushed gently against his and before he had time to break free of his reverie, he was already yielding to her. Her tongue pressed forward, and he yielded once more, relishing the mindless nature of the act. Gradually, his pain, worries, and anxieties faded, retreating to sulk in one of the unoccupied crevasses of his mind. One of her forepaws rose to rest on his chest, then slowly dragged along his abdomen, the claws lightly scratching at his scales. He groaned, rolling onto his side.

And suddenly the paw was gone. Her snout and tongue retreated, and he was alone. He opened his eyes, surprised by how dark it had grown in only a few minutes, and hastily slid his nightlids into place. Seara stared at him in what seemed a mixture of amusement and arousal.

"Aren't you supposed to be angry?" she asked.

The bestial part of him agreed, urging him to pin her down and mate her as roughly as he wished. The moral part of him agreed as well, urging him to take this opportunity to put an end to this nonsense.

"So?" he said.

Seara laughed, turning away slightly and lifting her tail. Her vent was visibly swollen, and the sight, not to mention the faint, smoky aroma of her heat, made him stiffen in a matter of seconds. Impossibly fast.

"Well?" she asked, her voice teasing. "Do I have to beg?"

Falon gaped at her. "You're in heat?" he said, finally, stupidly. "But I thought. . . family don't. . . ."

Seara grinned and lowered her tail. Her smile widened as she crept toward him, hips swaying. "Oh, trust me, this is nothing. If you weren't my brother, you'd have had me three times already tonight."

He swallowed hard, saying nothing. He didn't have to--the way his member twitched hard against his thigh answered for him--drawing a chuckle from his sister. She lay beside him, snout inches from his crotch.

"You're really going to make me beg, aren't you?" she murmured. Her paw ran down the length of his shaft, so lightly he could barely feel it. Leaning forward, she took the tip of him into her mouth, squeezing the spade-shaped head with her lips and purring softly. He shuddered, hips twitching involuntarily. Seara gave a pleased growl and let him slip from her snout. "Please, Falon," she whispered, each word sending a wisp of smoke across his shaft. "I want you to mate me like a proper dragoness. Hard and fast until I'm begging for your seed. Understand?" She turned to face him, nuzzling his cheek and leaning to whisper in his ear. "I want you to make me your bitch."

Whatever resistance lingered in his mind was utterly obliterated at her words. He reached down with a paw, and pressed her chin firmly against the ground as he stood. Seara complied, giving a throaty growl of appreciation and watching him with lust-filled eyes. Inhaling deeply, he relished her scent and the way it stirred his loins. With a grin, he nuzzled his sister's neck, then slowly ran his snout down her spine toward her tail. Seara shivered, and then yelped as he playfully nipped at her side.

"Jerk," she muttered, though he could hear she was smiling.

"Not anymore," he muttered against her hip. Seara laughed again, but it was quickly replaced by breathy gasps as his snout traced its way down the back of her leg, his lips brushing gently brushing across her clit.

"Oh," she breathed, her voice faint and desperate. "Oh, Falon, please. Don't tease me. I need you. I need it."

Still lapping at her vent, savoring the effect it was having on his body, Falon maneuvered himself behind her. He was preparing to mount her properly when an unexpected burst of nervousness struck him. It had nothing to do with who he was mating--but rather the fact that it was him doing it. He'd never done anything like this before, and the previous instance, when they'd pleasured one another with their muzzles was entirely a blur. He had no clue if Seara would enjoy it. No clue if he'd last long enough. And despite the swollen member between his legs, he was very nearly terrified.

Choking down his nervousness, he reared, balancing on his hindpaws and inching his way forward. Seara's tail curled around his midsection, and he glanced down, resting his forepaws lightly on the small of her back. She turned slightly, panting and staring up at him with needy eyes. His heart pounded, and he froze once more. The underside of his erection pressed against her folds, her wetness dripping down his length and both of their sexes pulsing rhythmically.

Cocking her head, Seara gave him a small smile, and in a flash of insight Falon realized she was a nervous as he. It was a reassuring thought. Despite the way his heart felt as though it had crawled its way into his throat, he gave her a self-conscious smirk in return and leaned down to nuzzle her cheek. She rose to meet him, and purred softly as his snout brushed hers.

"Hard and fast?" he murmured, raising a brow. He was half-teasing, but Seara's eyes glittered and she nodded with more enthusiasm than he expected. He chuckled under his breath.

Gently gripping her sides with his forepaws, he shifted his hips, drawing back to position himself. The head of his cock dragged along the crevice between her legs, brushing across her tailhole and making Seara shiver. Biting back a smile, he adjusted further, inhaling sharply as he slid into place. The outer lips of her sex spread, warmth and wetness surrounding the tip, practically begging him to thrust inside. Groaning deep in his chest, he gradually bore down upon her, the slick heat of her cunt joined by acute tightness.

Seara gasped, her spine curving as her body trembled beneath him. Her tail tightened about his waist, torso dropping to the ground and her head stretching back toward him. Seized by instinct, Falon's head snapped forward, his jaws closing on the nape of her neck. His sister mewled as his fangs dug into her scales, but the cry quickly turned to a squeal as he rammed his hips forward, sinking his full length into her pussy. His neck stung where the arrow had pierced it, but compared to the current sensations . . . it was utterly insignificant.

It was like nothing he could ever have imagined--the way her body squeezed and tugged on his member was beyond comprehension. The warmth and slickness was a dozen times more intoxicating than the pleasure her mouth had brought, and the conscious part of his mind was dimly aware how very close to his peak he was from even the simple act of penetration. He pulled back with both head and hips, Seara's nape still tightly grasped in his teeth. She whimpered, then moaned as all but his tip slid from her. He thrust forward once more, roughly, and she gave a loud, desperate moan. "Falon! Ohhhh, fuck!"

He bucked his hips twice in quick succession, and Seara mewled again, her hips shuddering and pushing back against each thrust. He could actually feel his knot, small though it was, inflating with each heartbeat. He thrust again, relishing the feel of her vent as it tugged and clung to the bulb. Peak growing near, he tried to slow, but that only made matters worse. Each swollen bump and ridge inside her sent another bolt of mind-numbing pleasure coursing up his spine.

Seara was moaning, the sound mixing with the wet, sloppy echoes of their mating. His knot could no longer fit easily inside her, and each thrust slammed it against the outside of her folds, mashing her clit. But the cries she gave each time, paired with the way her hips writhed and gyrated against him, left no doubt as to her approval.

Falon's peak was approaching rapidly and he slowed to a stop, his knot straining against his sister's vent. Beneath him, Seara gave an unhappy whimper, but he released her neck anyway, wincing as he tasted blood. "Too close," he hissed.

Seara was panting, her hips still shaking and grinding, and her clit throbbing against his knot. "Give it to me!" she demanded, gasping. "Bite me! Put it in!" Her tail tugged on him, urging him to comply.

"But--"

"Do it!" she growled, pushing roughly against him. "Make me your bitch, Falon!"

With a snarl, he took her nape in his jaws once more, pulling his hips back, then slamming forward. Seara cried out as he filled her, her pussy stretching impossibly wide around his knot. At the widest point, it stuck, leaving both of them trembling with need. Growling, he dug his claws into her sides, just below the intersection of her abdomen and wing membrane, slamming his hips forward with all his weight behind them. His cock slid forward, Seara's folds engulfing the base of his knot. The force of the thrust, paired with the deepness of it, swung his balls forward to slap her clit, drawing yet another squeal. Her cunt spasmed once, twice, and then contracted violently, milking him desperately as Seara roared in climax. Her wings fluttered, spreading and folding, as her body shuddered and writhed. Relief rushed through him--he'd lasted long enough-- followed by an irresistable rush of pleasure he knew would carry him over the edge.

He bucked fiercely against her, his knot forcing him to thrust deeper. Something brushed against the tip of his cock, deep inside her, and he ground against it as ecstasy seized ahold of his body. His sac contracted, driving him to give one last tremendous thrust, before his shaft erupted with a torrent of cum, driving all thoughts from his mind. He came, over and over, pouring what felt like an ocean of creamy sperm against his sister's cervix. Loins churning with the ferocious release, he released her neck and gave a roar of her own, his claws holding her mound firmly against his crotch. When finally the flow began to stop and the waves of pleasure ceased coursing so completely through his body, he collapsed, drooping heavily against his sister's back.

It took a moment for their breathing to slow, but when both had recovered slightly, Seara gave a soft giggle and wriggled her hips, apparently testing the seal around Falon's swollen knot. "Geez, Falon!" she laughed. "I'm going to be leaking cum for a week!"

Struggling to rise and take his weight from her hindquarters, he managed only an exhausted, "Sorry."

She laughed again, and stretched her neck with a hiss, allowing her tail to release him. "Don't be sorry, I enjoyed it. Though gods, you bite hard!"

He flushed, self-conscious once more. "I thought you wanted me to."

"I did--I do. Just wasn't expecting you to actually do it. Guess you enjoyed it to, eh?" She turned to wink at him.

He tugged against her folds again, and this time his shrinking knot pulled free, the entire length of his cock coated in a thick coat of semen. Seara turned and caught sight of him, her eyes alight. Without asking for permission, she scooted forward and knelt, taking his slimy member into her mouth and licking it clean. Falon stood, awkwardly, waiting for his sister to release him.

When finally she did, her lips were covered with cum, and she lunged aggressively, kissing him and smearing the residue across both of their faces in the process. "Was I a good bitch, brother?" she murmured in a lusty voice.

Somewhere inside of him, the moral voice of reason died. Falon smiled, nodding. In the back of his mind, where once the moral voice of reason had nagged, dark fantasies sprang to life, dwelling on the days to come.