Liez was drifting. Not quite asleep, not quite awake—that comfortable gray space where the day's noise faded to a low hum and the body forgot its own weight. The sheets were damp beneath him, twisted from where Luna had been, and the room still smelled like her—like pine and sweat and something wild that had finally stopped running. He'd meant to get up, to shower, to do any of the normal things a person did after a woman left his bed. But the warmth had been too good, the silence too easy, and so he'd just lain there in the dark, letting the streetlight paint its orange stripes across the ceiling.

The sound came without warning.

A soft, dry drag. Scales on wood.

His eyes snapped open.

By the time he registered the noise, the door was already swinging inward—no knock, no hesitation, no goddamn courtesy. Just the slow, inevitable slide of a massive serpentine body crossing his threshold like it had every right to be there. The streetlight caught her first, and what it revealed made his breath catch in his throat.

Bronze skin. Gleaming like it had been polished by hand. Jet-black hair falling in a cascade that brushed the tops of her shoulders, and below that—below the impossible curve of her waist and the flare of her hips—a coil of iridescent black scales that moved with a liquid, hypnotic grace. She was naked. Of course she was naked. The lamia queen didn't bother with clothes, didn't need them, didn't want them. Her body was a weapon and a crown all at once, and she wore it like she knew exactly what it did to men.

Lilith.

He'd know those golden eyes anywhere. Slit-pupiled, ancient, hungry in a way that had nothing to do with food.

"What the—"

She didn't let him finish. Her forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, tasting *him*, and her gaze dragged down his body with a slowness that made his skin prickle. Down his chest, over the sheets, to where the evidence of his interrupted sleep was already making itself known. He'd been half-hard before she walked in—that was just the way his body worked, a low thrum of readiness that never quite went away. But now, under that golden stare, he was stiffening fast, the fabric of the sheet tenting as his cock filled.

Lilith smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of a predator who'd found exactly what she came for.

"There he is." Her voice was a slow, hypnotic drawl, every word a command wrapped in silk. "I've been dreaming of this cock for a week."

Liez opened his mouth to respond—something clever, something that would reassert the easy confidence he wore like a second skin. But she didn't give him the chance. She moved with a speed that belied her size, her coils rippling across the floorboards as she crossed the room and mounted the bed in a single fluid motion. The mattress dipped under her weight, and then she was straddling him, her scales cool against his bare thighs, a shock of sensation that made his hips buck instinctively.

His hands found her hips on reflex. The skin there was warm, impossibly soft, transitioning into the cool, smooth plates of her lower body where they wrapped around his legs. Her coils tightened, just a fraction, just enough to pin him in place.

"Lilith—"

"Shh." She pressed a finger to his lips, her golden eyes gleaming in the orange light. "I didn't come here to talk, mortal. I came here to fuck."

His cock throbbed against her, and she felt it. He knew she felt it, because her smile widened, and her tongue flicked out again, tasting the air between them.

"I've been watching your little website," she said, her voice dropping to a purr. "Watching the line of creatures lining up for a taste of you. A ghost. A werewolf. A fucking dragon, if the rumors are true." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "But I'm the queen. And queens don't wait their turn."

Her hand slid down his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Lower. Past his stomach. Until her fingers found the waistband of his boxers—the only thing he was still wearing—and hooked under it.

"Did you think I wouldn't come for you?" she murmured, pulling the fabric down. "Did you think I'd let some wolf pup have you and not take my share?"

The boxers came off. Cool air hit his cock, and then her hand was wrapped around it, her fingers curling around the shaft with a possessive grip that made his breath hiss through his teeth. She stroked him once, slow, from base to tip, her thumb dragging over the swollen head and spreading the bead of moisture that had already gathered there.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Oh, we will." She squeezed, a firm, deliberate pressure that made his vision blur at the edges. "But first, I want to feel this in my hand. I want to know exactly what I'm about to take."

She stroked him again, slower this time, her golden eyes fixed on his face, watching every twitch, every gasp. Her grip was perfect—firm but not tight, her palm slick with his pre-cum as she worked him from root to tip. He was fully hard now, achingly hard, his cock standing tall and proud against his stomach, and she was looking at it like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Fourteen inches," she said, almost reverently. "I heard the rumors, but I didn't believe them. A mortal, carrying something like this." She ran her thumb over the head again, and he shuddered. "You're going to split me open, aren't you?"

"If you're lucky."

She laughed, a low, throaty sound that vibrated through her coils and into his thighs. "I like that. A man with a mouth on him." She leaned down, her hair brushing his chest, and kissed him—hard, demanding, her forked tongue sliding against his, tasting him like she was claiming territory. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with hunger.

"No foreplay, mortal," she hissed, and the words sent a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. "I need you inside me. Now."

She shifted, her coils rippling beneath her as she positioned herself over him. He felt the heat of her before he felt the wetness—a furnace of slick, swollen flesh that made his mouth water. She reached down, wrapped her fingers around his shaft again, and guided him to her entrance.

The first touch was electric.

Her cunt was dripping, soaked, the lips swollen and parted around the head of his cock. She dragged him through the slickness, coating him in her heat, and then she pushed—just the tip, just the barest inch—and they both groaned.

"Fuck," she breathed. "You're so goddamn thick."

"You're so goddamn wet."

She smiled, a sharp, predatory thing. "I've been wet for a week. Dreaming of this." She pushed down, taking another inch, and her eyes fluttered closed. "Dreaming of how you'd feel inside me."

Liez's hands found her hips again, gripping the warm bronze skin as she sank lower. Her cunt was tight—so tight it was almost painful, her walls clenching around him like a fist. But she was also soaked, dripping, her body welcoming him in with a hunger that made his head spin.

"That's it," he growled. "Take it."

"I intend to."

She sank down, inch by inch, and the sensation was overwhelming. Her heat surrounded him, her walls gripping him, and he could feel every ripple, every pulse of her body as she took him deeper. Her coils tightened around his legs, pinning him in place, and she rode him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that made his toes curl.

"Fuck," she hissed, her head falling back. "You feel even better than I imagined."

"Yeah?" He thrust up, meeting her descent, and she gasped. "How long did you imagine it?"

"A week." Her voice was strained, breathless. "Seven days of dreaming about this cock inside me. Seven nights of touching myself and imagining your hands on my hips."

She ground down on him, a slow, circular motion that made stars burst behind his eyes. Her cunt was so hot, so wet, so *tight*, and she was taking him deeper with every movement, her body opening for him in a way that felt almost supernatural.

"I imagined you filling me," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Imagined you pumping your cum into my cunt until I couldn't think straight."

"Is that what you want?" He gripped her hips harder, guiding her rhythm. "You want me to fill you up?"

"Yes." The word was a hiss, desperate and raw. "I want you to fuck me until I forget my own name. I want you to make me scream."

She picked up the pace, her coils tightening around his legs as she rode him harder. The sound was obscene—wet, slapping, the squelch of her cunt around his cock as she took him again and again. The streetlight caught the sheen of sweat on her bronze skin, made her look like a goddess carved from gold and shadow.

"That's it," he growled, thrusting up to meet her. "Ride that cock."

"Yes," she moaned, her head thrown back, her hair cascading down her spine. "Fuck, yes. Don't stop."

He didn't. He drove into her with a rhythm that was brutal and perfect, his hands gripping her hips so hard he knew he'd leave bruises. She didn't seem to mind. She seemed to *crave* it, her body taking him deeper with every thrust, her cunt clenching around him like she was trying to milk him dry.

"You feel that?" she gasped, her nails digging into his chest. "Feel how tight I am? How wet?"

"Feel how hard you make me," he shot back, and she moaned.

"Fuck, you're so deep. So goddamn deep."

She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth finding his in a desperate, hungry kiss. Her coils shifted, tightening around his thighs, and she rode him with a frenzy that bordered on violence. The bed groaned beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall, and Liez could feel his own climax building, a pressure coiling at the base of his spine.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice rough.

"Don't you dare come yet." She pulled back, her golden eyes blazing. "I'm not done with you."

She rose up, almost all the way off his cock, and then slammed back down, taking him to the hilt in one brutal motion. He saw stars. He saw the ceiling, the walls, the whole goddamn room spinning around him. Her cunt was so tight, so deep, and she was clenching around him in waves, her body milking him, pulling him toward the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're going to make me come."

"Good." She rode him harder, her coils crushing his legs in a grip that was almost painful. "Come inside me. Fill me up. I want to feel your cum flooding my cunt."

The filth of it, the raw, desperate hunger in her voice, pushed him over the edge. He came with a roar, his hips bucking up as his cock emptied into her, pumping load after load of hot cum into her waiting cunt. She screamed, a high, keening sound that shattered the silence, her body convulsing around him as she came with him, her walls clenching in waves that milked him dry.

They stayed like that for a long moment, tangled together, both of them shaking and breathless. Her coils loosened slowly, releasing his legs, and she collapsed onto his chest, her head tucked under his chin. He could feel her heart pounding against his ribs, could feel the slow, satisfied pulse of her cunt around his still-hard cock.

"Well," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "That was worth the wait."

Liez laughed, a low, breathless sound. "Yeah. It was."

She lifted her head, her golden eyes meeting his. There was something in them—not just satisfaction, but a flicker of something deeper. Something almost like vulnerability.

"I'll be back," she said, and it wasn't a question. It was a promise.

He didn't argue. He just kissed her, slow and deep, and let himself feel it.