[mariah?!]

Unfortunately, it would seem that two rounds – three, if the sweet ministrations of his tail counted for anything – was all the wyvern was capable of, at least presently. Exhaustion sang from the depths of his very marrow, the continuous clenching of the human around and beneath him easily sapping the strength from his limbs until both his forelegs and hindlegs wobbled, threatening to give out altogether. Panting through his nostrils, smoke mingling with errant puffs of oxygen, Israfel slipped carefully from Svara's heat for the second time that evening.

This time, however, was different, because this time, not even the promise of a repeat performance could coax him back. If anything, such an idea only reinforced his resolve to put some sort of space between them, for he was fairly certain that another orgasm would involve a nasty aftershock and while normally the wyvern wouldn't have been so easily repulsed by the possibility, tonight he was tired and .. content?

Yes, he decided, folding his legs beneath him and snuggling into the warmth of Svara's side, draping the vulnerable underside of his muzzle across the human's chest as his tail continued its attentions, maintaining a lazy though nonetheless satisfying rhythm.

Yes. He was quite content.