The Dragon's Bride

In the town of Paradise everything is perfect, thanks to the magic of a dragon. Every year the town must pay tribute in the form of gold, jewels, and a daughter of the town. Fiona's perfect life is a bore--void of adventure and love. At first being taken captive by the dragon is terrifying, but once he establishes that he has no intention of eating her, she begins to warm to the idea of being his bride.

18+ fantasy erotica. m/f, shape-shifter.

Excerpt:
Massive gold chandeliers lit the room. Cold blue fire burned giving off light but no heat emitted from the fireplace spanning an entire wall. Dinner was laid out on a long table. This was it. He was going to eat her now.

Instead he pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit. “Please. Eat.”

On shaking legs Fiona sat down. Looking up, the dragon was even more enormous than before. “What will you have?” he asked, and she stared as he started serving her himself, ham, pheasant, fresh vegetables and fruit, flaky fish perfectly prepared.

“Where does it all come from?” she asked.

“Why, the taxes of course. You didn't think I just sat up here on a pile of gold and virgins, did you?”

That was exactly what she thought, but she found herself too ravenous to think for much longer. She ate every food he put in front of her and had two glasses of very fine wine. The dragon watched her eat, but did not partake himself. “You are going to eat me!” she accused when she noticed this.

“You seem quite set on this notion. I cannot eat food in this form,” he informed her. “In fact, it has been quite difficult to remain in it for this long.”

She blinked. For a moment she had forgotten he was a beast and not a man at all. “What do you really look like?” she asked, knowing she would regret it.

The dragon stood up and stepped away from the table. He spread his great wings out wide and his shape began to grow. Human skin disappeared beneath shiny black scales in iridescent purple and gold. The dragon fell to his knees with a great groan that became a roar. His wings wrapped around his body and he began to writhe.

Gone was the beautiful human face, hands, legs. When he rose from the floor he was all beast, twice as large as before. “My true form,” he said, his voice unchanged. “My name is Ithel.”

Fiona scrambled from her chair in a panic. He was too large, too frightening. A man was a man, but this...creature...was more than she could have been prepared for. She backed up before turning and rushing for the exit. But the dragon--Ithel--was fast, so fast. He moved to block the exit, stretching his full height. His scales glittered in the firelight, his claws shined like black glass. “You cannot run from me,” he said. “Those who do, die.”

Her legs were weak from fear; only sheer will forced her to remain standing. “You kill them?”

“Mostly they fall. There is no easy path down the mountain.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“I have lived in this palace for a thousand years almost always alone, save for my own magic. Every year I bring back a girl from Paradise. You call her a sacrifice, and I let you because it is important for the balance of power to remain intact.
“You think you are a sacrifice. In my eyes, you are my bride.”