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Lambert's skin was ice cold. Between his slow heartbeat and the two meters of snow on the ground, it was impossible not to be cold as he dragged himself into the castle. He shivered and grumbled, adjusted the heavy pack over his shoulder and trudged forward. It wasn't exactly his favorite thing, to be dragging a heavy pack of coal across the grounds, but wood was too wet and would take too long to dry. At least he would be able to warm up soon enough.
Normally this was a job for three people, but Geralt had gone to Oxenfurt for the winter months and Vesemir was out hunting. He didn't envy the old man to be out in the snow trying to catch whatever wasn't frozen solid.
He slipped in through the kitchen and found the two other packs he'd already hauled in waiting next to the door. He grabbed the straps in his free hand and huffed as he trudged forward. The weight of all three bags was difficult to manage, but he would be damned if he was going to make two or more trips. He wanted to be done with this, and then be warm and curled up with Eskel down in the dungeon.
He finally managed to make it to the heavy steel door leading down into the bowels of the castle's deepest reaches. What had once been the dungeons and labs had since been reconverted into Eskel's dwellings, since the bastard needed the space and someplace insulated to keep from freezing to death.
Thankfully getting the sacks down the stairs was easy enough, and he pushed open the second steel door and stepped into the torch-lit space.
Lambert heaved an exhausted sigh and dropped the sack from over his shoulder, and let go of the straps of the other two. "You can move these the rest of the way yourself after you warm me up. I nearly froze to death out there."
From the depths of the darkness across the room, a pair of golden eyes appeared like twin coins. It was unnerving to see, even though the Witcher knew his eyes did the same thing.
"Thank you, Lambert. Come here." The eyes lifted as Eskel shifted himself up to make room, a low growling purr echoing through the cavernous empty space.
Lambert wasted no time, making his way forward towards the watching eyes.
Eskel was easy for him to see, even in the minimal light. Ruby scales adorned the top half of his body, as thick and strong as a Knight's armor, while the softer underbelly was a gentler shade of amber. One of the dragon's wings lifted from where it had been curled around himself, offering a space for Lambert to sit within the large nest of furs.
A crown of umber horns once twisted proudly from the crown of his draconian skull, yet now one had been shattered clean off, and a web of scars webbed over the side of his scaly face. That had been how the Wolves had found him so many years ago, shortly after the sacking of Kaer Morhen.
At only the size of a large horse, Eskel was small for a dragon. He was the biggest one Lambert had ever seen, but Geralt and Vesemir assured him that Eskel was very small for his species.
He was also alone, save for the Witchers who had adopted him.
That big scaly head leaned forward, nostrils flaring as he scented at Lambert curiously. "Well?"
The Witcher snapped himself from his thoughts and crouched down to unlace his boots before he stepped into the nest. A large paw reached out, careful and gentle, and swept Lambert up and into the dragon's space.
Much of the cold was immediately banished under the warmth and weight of the dragon's scales. A low rumbling purr rolled through the beast's barrel chest.
Suddenly Lambert was alright with having gone to get the coal by himself, as it gave him more of an excuse to be alone with the dragon. With Vesemir and Geralt in the castle, it could often be difficult to find alone time with his favorite mythical monster.
He reached up and pressed both of his hands to Eskel's chest, letting himself be laid back and made comfortable in the nest of furs. The heavy scent of smoke and leather was a comfort to Lambert, followed closely by heat that pulsed through the creature and up the Witcher's arms. Eskel's heartbeat was a powerful thing, the thump of elven war drums that could be felt and heart if Lambert listened.
The dragon's head dipped down and a whuff of hot breath caressed over Lambert's face, warming his nose and cheeks before a big forked tongue laved over his skin. He snorted and pulled his head away. "Hey!"
"I thought you were cold?" There was a tease in Eskel's voice before his tongue worked over the Witcher's neck and jaw, then up the side of his head to make his short hair stick up at odd angles.
"I am! But your slobber makes my hair stick up for days."
"Hmm. But then you smell like me." Another lick and Eskel pushed his body more firmly against Lambert's. A low, lazy chuckle whuffed more heated breaths over Lambert's cheeks, chasing the last of the winter chill away.
Lambert pushed at the great head invading his space. "You're a great big nuisance."
A snort came, and a warm tongue licked over Lambert's palm lazily. "That's amusing, coming from you."
"What're you saying?" Lambert scoffed and pushed harder, but the beast would not be budged.
“That you’re a troublemaker.” Despite not having lips, the dragon flashed those big teeth of his in a way that was meant to look like a smirk.
Lambert gave a gasp of mock affront. “I’ve never caused trouble a day in my life.”
They both laughed at such a bold-faced lie. Lambert tipped his chin up and huffed petulantly. “Keep it up and I won’t get you coal anymore.”
A snorting whuff brushed over the Witcher’s face. “No coal, no sex.”
“Now that’s just plain cruel. We both enjoy the sex.”
Eskel gave a contemplative sound. “We do, I suppose.” The beast ducked his head down and laved his tongue up Lambert’s body, from his crotch to his throat, a rolling purr filling the air. The attention had Lambert’s cock jumping in interest immediately, a moan ripped from the core of his chest.
The dragon purred louder, lowering down again, this time sliding his tongue over just the groin with full intent. Lambert just pushed back and spread his thighs to make room, feeling the leather of his pants pulling taught, strangling his poor cock. He gave a groan and reached down to pull at the fastens of his pants.
Eskel shifted his weight back, pulling himself up a bit to give the human more space. Lambert was happy to undo his trousers and push them down and off, tossing them aside impatiently as his cock rested eager and mostly had against his stomach.
“Turn over,” the dragon’s voice was a growl now. Lambert wasn’t the only one who was impatient.
The Witcher huffed a wheeze and then did as told. He rolled over, pulling himself onto his hands and knees, thighs spread apart. His cock dangled, fat and eager between his legs while his ass and pucker were exposed to the air of Eskel’s den.
The hot slide of the dragon’s tongue drifted over Lambert’s balls, his perineum, over the tight furl of his entrance, then up the cleft of his ass. He gasped and whined, pushing back against the attention. “More,” he begged in a tight voice, “Please more.”
And more he got. The beast dipped down and gave another long lick, then shorter ones that focused on relaxing the tight little hole waiting for him.
Pleasure skittered up Lambert’s spine, building a slow roaring fire that had his cock aching and his mouth open with desperate panting.
“A proper bitch in heat for me,” Eskel rumbled. He licked again, this time pushing the tip of his tongue against the target and making Lambert keen. “Do you know how good you are for me? A proper mate – so eager to take me.”
The praise added to the fire blazing in Lambert’s head. He whined again, mouth falling open. His chest pressed down to the bedding beneath him, leaving himself completely on display for his mate, as eager as Eskel could ever hope for. Once the dragon set his sights on Lambert, the Witcher stood no chance.
The first breach of the dragon’s tongue had Lambert groaning, the sound punched out of him. He was still loose from the night before, loose like he’d been since he got to Kaer Morhen earlier in the season. He was Eskel’s mate, a dragon’s cock warmer, and he loved every moment of it.
The tongue pushed in, worked the ring open and loose while the tip sank deep enough to brush over that sensitive place inside that made the Witcher twitch and jerk without control.
Eskel pulled his tongue free and purred. “There’s my pet,” he crooned.
Lambert’s ass felt loose and empty, the promise of more hanging tauntingly in the air. “Please,” he panted.
“Don’t worry. You know I’ll take care of you.”
The dragon slowly rose onto all fours. Lambert craned his neck to look back, always eager to see what he did to his mate.
Eskel fluffed and folded his wings prim to his sides. Lambert’s eyes went down between the dragon’s forelegs, further back to where not one, but two thick lengths of dragon cock had come free from the sheath between the beast’s hind legs. They were as thick as Lambert’s forearm, and nearly as long, with oddly flat, tapered heads.
He watched as those heads twitched, the tips flaring just slightly in promise of their full girth. “Fuck…” He never tired of seeing them.
“That’s the idea,” the dragon chuckled.
He moved forward to brace his forearms over Lambert’s shoulders. He was completely covered by the dragon now, and felt one of the cocks poking against the back of his thigh.
Lambert reached back and took the top one, feeling the natural slick alongside the pulsing heat in his palm. For a moment he wanted to turn around and take it in his mouth, memories of filling his throat with that heat while it flared making his cock twitch eagerly again.
“Something wrong?” Eskel ducked his head down to nose and nuzzle at Lambert’s hair.
“Not at all. Fuck you’re always so hot.”
Eskel chuckled. “You’ll be nice and warm when I’m done with you.” The dragon shifted his hips, a little impatient, pushing them down so that the length slid against Lambert’s palm in open promise.
He pulled the tip up and pressed it against his hole, biting his lip. He pressed back as the dragon pushed forward, and Lambert’s body was suddenly invaded by thick heat and pressure. The strain against his rim was almost too much, and no matter how many times he took Eskel’s cock it always felt like he was just about to break in half.
Then Eskel bucked and rolled his hips, a grunting growl puffed into the air while the Witcher was pitched forward. Now that his mate was in, all that was left to do was hang on.
It had taken quite a while before both man and dragon were comfortable enough for Eskel to work himself so deep. He worked himself in with shallow thrusts, back and forth, and after a certain point Lambert just felt a constant rubbing against that spot inside of him that had him twitching and writhing and howling.
The sparks had turned to a full wildfire that blazed in his belly and chest. His cock swung like a pendulum beneath him, occasionally bumping Eskel’s other cock while the dragon worked himself deeper, deeper , until the Witcher was sure that he would feel that tapered head in the back of his throat.
He couldn’t feel it in his throat, but if he lifted his hand and pressed it to his belly, he could feel the thick phallus beneath his palm, working in and out.
He was shoved headfirst into an orgasm, his body spasming and tightening around the heated cock in his body while his cock spilled his seed over the furs beneath him.
Of course, Eskel didn’t stop, and Lambert was far from done. Dragons had stamina that put even the Witchers to shame, and this was just the beginning.
He moved the hand on his belly down to the cock rutting beneath his body. He grabbed the shaft and felt Eskel’s roar in his bones. The heads of both cocks flared wide, precum spilling hot over the back of Lambert’s knuckles while the cock in his ass flared and stretched him wider.
It was as the dragon finally bottomed out when Lambert came a second time. His hand furiously pumped the cock beneath him, and he became aware of the sound of rushing wind in his ears. Eskel’s wings were flared out wide, beating in the air and stirring it before the dragon pulled back and shoved forward.
The first rush of seed felt like it was going to burn him. The heads flared, but only the cock in his ass spilled thick ropes of seed. Lambert’s voice had gone hoarse, but he still wailed and gripped the furs in his fist.
He could feel the cock inside of him pulsing with each new rush of seed filling him up. He just gasped and groaned, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt another orgasm gripping and wringing him out bit by bit.
After an impossible amount of time, Lambert felt Eskel pulling out.
He whined as he felt a torrent of seed gushing out of him. It dribbled down the back of his balls and along his softening cock.
A growl from the dragon reminded Lambert that he wasn’t done just yet. He reached back down and grabbed the second cock again, his hand shaking a little from how overwhelming it all was.
He brought it up to his hole, and it was both frightening and arousing how easily it sank in.
This cock was shorter, but a little fatter at the base. It stretched the Witcher just that little bit wider, and his skin felt like it was alive with static.
Eskel set in, fucking harder now that his partner was loosened and slicked up for him. Lambert could only lay there bonelessly, taking everything he was given with weak grunts of pleasure and overstimulation.
When the dragon came again, another howling roar shook the room and Lambert’s bones. He barely felt the head flare, but he felt like a balloon as he was filled with even more seed. He felt so hot, feverish even, but he didn’t care. His mate was in him, giving him everything he ever needed from life.
After some time, Eskel finally withdrew his softening cock and Lambert felt the seed escaping him again. There was a puddle of it beneath his hips, and he wasn’t even sure how he was staying upright anymore.
The world felt dulled and quiet, a welcomed break from how overwhelming it usually was. Now the world was focused down to a fine point. The heat and press of dragonflesh, the dribble of warm seed, the pulses of heat radiating out from where he’d just been fucked, the afterimage of pleasure, and the heavy scent of sex.
A careful clawed hand wrapped around Lambert’s midsection, picking him up and lifting him away from the mess beneath his body. He was set down on his front a few feet away, with Eskel settling carefully down beside him. The dragon lowered his head and started to lick up the warm, sweaty skin of his mate, tending to Lambert’s exhausted body.
A tongue poked between his cheeks, lapping at the heavily abused pucker. It pushed in, licking some of the seed out. Lambert couldn’t do anything but lazily swat at the beast’s muzzle, earning him a lazy chuckle.
“Rest now. I hope you don’t think we’re done just yet.”
Lambert groaned and laughed, not sure if he was excited or terrified. “Bastard.”