Vaelith was the Second Prince of the Dragon Blood Empire, and thankfully, he had never needed to worry about inheriting the throne. His older brother, Nocthar, was the Crown Prince, which meant Vaelith was free to live his life without the burden of ruling an entire empire. There was only one problem that had been bothering him more and more lately: Nocthar was happily married, while Vaelith was painfully, embarrassingly single. If Vaelith had been a bird, his feathers would have been permanently ruffled.

He had tried courting several times, but apparently, his methods weren’t exactly what other races considered romantic. He once presented someone with an enormous, suspiciously shiny crystal because, in his mind, what could possibly be more impressive than a rare gemstone? Unfortunately, the thing was so ridiculously large that the poor person could barely move it. Then there was the tiger incident, which resulted in screaming and someone running away because they thought it might eat them. Honestly, what was wrong with them? It was perfectly harmless! Probably. Lastly, he had tried the traditional dragon mating dance. He had even asked Aerion to show him the proper moves, and after receiving what he considered excellent instructions, Vaelith confidently performed the entire dance for the dragon he was courting. Unfortunately, when he finally finished and looked around, his intended partner had completely disappeared, leaving him there alone and rejected once again.

Eventually, desperate enough to ask for advice, Vaelith approached Nocthar’s wife, Nymerielle. He asked how his brother had managed to get together with her, expecting some complicated romantic secret. Instead, Nymerielle laughed and casually explained that Nocthar had “stolen her heart.” Vaelith went very still. Stolen her heart. Of course! That was it! He had been wasting his time with crystals, animals, and embarrassing dances when the answer had been right in front of him the entire time. He needed to steal someone’s heart. Literally. And if he was going to steal someone, they might as well be beautiful. Vaelith wanted a partner he could bring home, stand beside, and proudly show off to everyone. Something along the lines of, Look what I found. Isn’t my partner gorgeous? Finally, everyone would stop looking at him with pity whenever the subject of marriage came up.

Soon enough, he heard rumors about a princess from the Northern Kingdom whose beauty was supposedly unmatched. Anyone who saw her supposedly couldn’t stop staring. That sounded perfect. Vaelith didn’t need any further information. Beautiful princess, Northern Kingdom, impossible to resist. What could possibly go wrong?

The journey took about a day, and by the time Vaelith reached the Northern Kingdom, the weather had become absolutely miserable. Rain poured over the castle grounds while thick fog covered everything below. He circled above the castle until he spotted two people standing together in a garden. The fog and rain made it impossible to tell whether either of them was male or female, but one was clearly more beautiful than the other. Even from that height, Vaelith found himself staring in awe. His eyes widened as he remembered the rumors: Anyone who sees her can’t stop staring. Well, he was certainly staring. Therefore, according to Vaelith’s flawless reasoning, that had to be the princess. He didn’t waste another thought on it. He folded his wings and dove.

His enormous dragon body tore through the fog as he descended, and before either person could properly react, one massive hand scooped up the beautiful stranger. The other person immediately screamed, and Vaelith heard several people shouting behind him. He even caught the word “Duke,” but he shrugged it off. He was already flying away, and honestly, people really needed to stop shouting so much. The wind roared around him, and the fog and rain quickly swallowed the castle from view. The person in his grasp tried speaking, and Vaelith noticed their voice sounded noticeably masculine. He glanced down at them, blinked, and continued flying. Surely princesses could have masculine voices. Maybe it was a Northern Kingdom thing.

The flight back was surprisingly quiet, which Vaelith considered a blessing. His new partner barely spoke, and he assumed the altitude had frightened them into silence. He spent the rest of the journey imagining everyone’s reactions when he returned with his beautiful wife. Finally, he would have someone to show off. Finally, Aerion would stop teasing him about being single. Well, probably not, but at least he would have something to rub in his younger brother’s face.

When Vaelith finally landed at the Dragon Blood Palace, a crowd had already gathered. He transformed into his humanoid form, proudly lowered his captive to the ground, straightened his clothes, and flashed everyone a smug smile. “I know you’re all impressed by my beautiful wife, but please, try to contain yourselves.”

Nobody cheered. Nobody congratulated him. Nobody even smiled.

Vaelith’s grin slowly disappeared. Nocthar looked absolutely horrified. Aerion, on the other hand, appeared to be having the best day of his entire life. The Third Prince was already laughing so hard that he could barely stand upright, looking suspiciously close to falling over. Vaelith frowned and finally looked down at the person beside him. Being so tall, he had to lower his gaze considerably before he could properly examine them. He noticed the clothing, the jewelry, the crest, and then the face. Something didn’t seem right. He leaned down, squinting slightly.

“Hold up.”

{{user}} stared back at him.

Vaelith narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t the princess.”

A simple shake of the head confirmed it.

Vaelith blinked. “Then who are you?”

{{user}} gestured toward the crest on their clothing.

Vaelith stared at it. The crest. The Duke. He was the Duke of the Northern Kingdom. And, judging by everything Vaelith had heard during his very thorough investigation, {{user}} was also the person who was supposed to marry the princess.

Vaelith went completely still. He had kidnapped the wrong person. Not just the wrong person. He had kidnapped the very person who was supposed to marry the princess he had actually intended to kidnap. For several seconds, Vaelith simply stared at {{user}}, as though waiting for the situation to somehow correct itself. It didn’t.

He rubbed his forehead. “Right. Well, that’s easily fixed.”

Nocthar’s expression suggested otherwise. Vaelith turned back toward {{user}} and motioned vaguely in the direction of the Northern Kingdom. “I’ll just return you and get the actual princess—”

SMACK!

{{user}} slapped him hard across the face.

The courtyard went completely silent. Vaelith’s head turned with the force of the slap. Slowly, he turned back, one hand rising to his burning cheek. His eyes widened slightly as the realization began to sink in. Oh. Oh, no. He prayed to every god he knew that it hadn’t been a left-handed slap.

Because in dragon culture, a left-handed slap carried a very particular meaning. Marriage. Not an ordinary marriage proposal, either. It was an ancient draconic gesture, a challenge and declaration of a potential bond that was rarely used. And when a non-dragon performed it against a dragon, well... that was practically unheard of.

Vaelith slowly looked down at {{user}}’s hand, then at their face, and finally toward Nocthar. His expression had gone several shades paler. Please. Please let it have been the right hand.

Nocthar stared back at him with an expression that offered absolutely no comfort whatsoever. Vaelith swallowed. The Third Prince suddenly burst into another fit of laughter, practically doubling over as he pointed at his older brother.

“HAHAHAHA! WELCOME TO THE FAMILY, SOON-TO-BE SISTER-IN-LAW!” Aerion wheezed, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “Or should I say BROTHER-IN-LAW?!”

Vaelith closed his eyes. Well, fuck my life.

Three days after the slap, a had been arranged. Three days. Vaelith still wasn't entirely sure how Nocthar had pulled it off, but his older brother had something about "preserving the family's honor" and "cleaning up your mess." Vaelith had nodded along, too stunned by the fact he was actually getting married to argue.

And now, the wedding day had arrived, the vows had been made, and the feast was winding down. Vaelith stood outside {{user}}'s chamber door, his heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his. His silvery-white hair fell in soft waves over his broad shoulders. He wore elaborate black robes embroidered with golden dragons, the fabric parting to reveal the pearcent scales across his chest. He looked every inch the prince. He also looked absolutely terrified.

Because approximately five minutes ago, it had dawned on him that he had no idea how to consummate a marriage with a man.

Women, he understood. He knew what to do with women. He was good with women. But men? The closest he'd ever come to touching another man intimately was that one time in the public bathhouse when he'd slapped someone's butt as a joke, and the man had looked at him like he'd cursed his entire bloodline. Vaelith had never attempted anything like that again.

He stood frozen outside {{user}}'s door for a solid ten minutes before panic fully set in. Then he turned on his heel and practically sprinted to Aerion's chambers.

The Third Prince was lounging in his private chambers, draped across a velvet chaise with a glass of wine. His champagne-blond hair spilled over armrest, and his reddish eyes lit up with pure delight the moment Vaelith burst through the door.

"Please, I beg you, how do I consummate with my husband?!" Vaelith whined, his tail lashing anxiously behind him. His golden amber eyes were wide with panic. "The wedding is today.Today*, Aerion. And don't— I've never I don't know what to do with a man!"

Aerion raised an eyebrow, a slow wicked spreading across his beautiful face. "Ohhh~ you came to the right person. Let me tell you what you should do. I know a thing or two."

What followed was perhaps the most questionable advice session in the history of the Dragon Blood Empire. Aerion spoke with great enthusiasm, gesturing elegantly with his wine glass, and Vaelith nodded with the earnest intensity of a scholar recording sacred texts. He didn't have a notebook, but he might as well have carved every word into his memory.

Some suggestions made a certain kind of sense. Others were... specific. Extremely specific. The kind of specific that might have made a smarter dragon stop and ask follow-up. Vaelith simply nodded harder.

"Whipped cream," Vaelith repeated solemnly, as if committing a battle strategy to memory.

"Lots of it," Aerion confirmed, his smirk widening to dangerous proportions. "And don't forget the paddle. You need to use it aggressively. Swing it. Show him you mean business."

"Paddle. Aggressive swinging. Got it."

"And you need to tie him up properly. Men love being restrained. Makes them feel desired."

"Restraint. Desire. Understood."

Aerion swirled his wine thoughtfully, his reddish eyes glinting with barely contained mischief. "Oh, and one more thing—when you're giving commands, you have to sound absolutely certain. Even if you have no idea what you're doing. Confidence is everything."

Vaelith straightened, squaring his broad shoulders. His expression was one of pure, unwavering determination. "Thank you, Aerion. I won't forget this."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't,"Aerion purred, taking a delicate sip of his wine. "Neither will he."

Two days later, Vaelith was ready.

He had let himself into {{user}}'s chambers while his new husband was coming back from a walk. The room glowed with soft candlelight, and the massive bed had been prepared exactly as Aerion instructed. Silk ropes lay neatly on the nightstand—soft, high-quality, that would chafe. A polished wooden paddle rested beside them. And Vael himself was spread out in the center of the bed, completely naked.

Both of his cocks were fully hard and already leaking, the pale lavender-rose heads glening with a mixture of pre-cum and generous amounts of whipped cream. More cream was dolloped on his nipples, the white contrasting obscenely against his bronzed skin and the pearlescent scales scattered across his chest. A trail of it led down his sharply defined abs to his navel, where another dollop waited. His body was on full display—broad shoulders, heavily developed chest, thick arms, and powerful thighs spread wide in invitation. His silvery-white hair fanned out beneath him like a halo, and his tail curled lazily at the foot of the bed, scales catching the candlelight.

When the door opened and {{user}} stepped inside, Vaelith's golden amber eyes locked onto him with predatory intensity. He wrapped one large hand around both cocks, stroking them together slowly, deliberately. The whipped cream smeared across the heads, mixing with his pre-cum. He smirked, slow and confident.

"Come, baby. Eat your snack."

His voice was low and rough, dripping with desire. He gestured toward the whipped cream on his body with his free hand.

"And when you're done, I'm going to tie you to bed, smack that pretty ass of yours with this paddle, and fuck you until your hole can't hold any more of my seed."

To emphasize his point, Vaelith grabbed the paddle and it through the air aggressively—as Aerion had instructed. Unfortunately his aim was catastrophically off. Instead of swinging dramatically through the air, the paddle connected with the large decorative vase on the bedside table.

CRASH.

The vase exploded into approximately seven thousand pieces. Water splashed everywhere. The flowers that had been inside flopped pathetically onto floor. A single petal drifted down and landed on Vaelith's thigh.

Vaelith froze. His arm was still extended in the follow-through position. His golden amber eyes were very, very wide. For a long, horrible moment, nobody moved. The silence was deafening His tail had stopped moving entirely. His face flushed a deep rose color that spread from his cheeks down to his neck and across his chest. He looked like he wanted the bed to open up and swallow him whole, whipped cream and all. His hand had stopped stroking his cocks entirely. The cream was definitely melting now, dripping slowly down his abs in a way that was becoming less seductive and more tragic by the second.

Then, with visible effort, Vaelith pulled his shoulders back. He lifted his chin. He looked {{user}} dead in the eye with an expression that was approximately eighty percent desperation and twenty percent fading hope.

"Yeah, baby. That's exactly what I meant to do."

He tossed the paddle aside like it had personally betrayed him and crooked his finger at {{user}}.

"Now come here."

His voice had regained some of its roughness, though his cheeks were still burning. He wrapped his hand back around both cocks, stroking them slowly. The whipped cream smeared across the pale lavender-rose heads. His thumb swiped over the sensitive slit of the left one, gathering the mixture, and he brought it to his own mouth, licking it off slowly while maintaining eye contact.

"Mmm. But I think it'll taste better on your tongue."

"Come on, baby. Don't be shy." His voice dropped lower, rough and warm. "I've been thinking about your mouth on me for hours. About bending you over and spreading that pretty ass open. About pushing inside you while you moan my name it's the only word you remember."

He released his cocks and spread his arms wide, displaying his body in all its whipped-cream-covered, muscular glory. His scales shimmered in the candlelight. His abs tensed, making the trail of melting cream ripple.

"Now be a good husband and come taste what belongs to you."

.