by Viiola Grace
“Yes, but….oh damn, I guess you need to know the whole thing. John and I courted for six months. After I came of age, we kissed and cuddled, but nothing else until we were married. On our wedding night,” she stopped and took a deep breath, “I broke John’s collarbone, and left arm… Stop laughing!”
She reached over onto the bead grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head. He caught it easily, and attempted to sober his features. After another minute of howling laughter, he stopped, wiped his eyes, and said, “Please continue.”
Lia gave him a good frown that let him know that his levity was not appreciated and continued.
“My father healed the breaks and lectured us both about the strength of dragonkind, and sent us on our way. Since it was my arousal that brought out the strength, and any pleasure increased it, John and I discussed it into the dark hours of the night. A week went by without us touching, and John came up to me on our one week anniversary and said that he had a surprise. He closed my eyes with a blindfold, led me to the bed, and asked me to lay with my arms above my head. I felt a manacle close over one wrist and then the other, he gently stroked my leg into position, and I felt the same restraint on my left, and then right leg. At this point he removed the blindfold, and when I opened my eyes I was spread-eagled on the bed, unable to move more than a few inches at a time.”
She paused for a moment as a servant knocked and brought in a cold meal for them to share, she cast a startled look toward Marcus whose eyes had begun to glow like the forges of hell imagining her in the helpless position she described.
When the servant left, she continued. “He told me that he had figured out a way for us both to get pleasure, and no one would get hurt. He climbed up onto the bed and began to kiss and caress me. Even as my fever reached a peak, I could not reach him with my arms, I could not crush him with my legs, and he would only kiss my mouth when he felt that I had not gotten beyond control.”
She finished her recounting with her eyes on the floor, and said in an embarrassed voice, “So though I have known the touch of a man, I don’t know how to touch one.”
“Later, we will definitely get to that later, but now the thought of you helpless has brought me to a pitch which only you can quench, my dear.” Her eyes flew up to meet his as his arms closed around hers, and he flung her through the air, onto his bed. “Just remember, nothing you do can hurt me, and make as free with my body, as I intend to do with yours.”
With that, he jumped up and sailed onto the bed on top of her and lowered his face to hers for a kiss. He still wore his warrior form, but the bed was made to hold it. His clawed hands cupped her face, and stroked across the soft strands of hair that lay across her skull, his gentle touch belying the ferocity with which his mouth claimed hers.
“Just remember, Lia, I won’t break.” In the rising heat of her passion, Lia almost missed the softly growled words.
Taking him at his word, as he began to caress her breasts through her top with barely leashed strength, she let her hands roam over the hard planes of his body, learning him as he did her.
With a harsh exclamation Marcus tore the clothing from them both then returned to her hands to continue her education. Lia leaned forward and touched her mouth to his warm chest, the muscles smooth and flexing beneath her lips and tongue. Her hands stroked his nipples, and she smiled as he let out a hiss of pleasure at the sensation. Gaining confidence, Lia’s hands trailed lower, and finally achieved her goal. In warrior form his manhood was intimidating, but having had him inside her already, she knew that they would fit together with a little effort.
As she wrapped both hands around him, he began his own exploration. Their previous mating had been a matter of necessity. This one was strictly for pleasure.
His hands covered her back and stroked her from shoulder to buttock. She shuddered in reaction to the feel of his claws on her skin. He then drew his claws lightly over her shoulders and down her breasts, circling her navel, and then traced the hair growing from her mound.
With delicate deliberation he inserted first one then two of his large claws into her channel, gently working to draw forth the damp heat that was already calling to him in her scent. She closed her eyes as the wicked fingers within her began to drive the flames of her passion into an uncontrollable conflagration. He inserted a third finger, and began a gentle pulsing with his hand that soon had her arching, gasping, and straining for more of his touch.
“Please, more. Marcus, more!” Her pearl hued skin was covered with a fine mist of sweat, her hair plastered to her head. With just a few caresses she burned for him to enter her, to fill the void and quench the hunger he had awakened.
With a snarl he covered her, rubbing his cock between her slick thighs. Back and forth he teased her, until her hips were lunging up to meet his at every stroke. Finally he threw his head back and thrust his hips forward.
The pain/pleasure of their joining surprised her anew, and she clutched at him as he rode her, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Her hands upon his shoulders were leaving welts in the skin. Her nails were leaving small cuts that began to ooze blood, the grip with which she clutched him would have broken the arms of any human male.
With every thrust, the fever in her blood burned hotter, the tightness in her wound to the breaking point, and then, she did not know if it was minutes or hours, she flew apart. She screamed; sparks shot behind her closed lids. Her body gave a powerful arch. Her muscles clamped down on Marcus’ shaft where they were joined, and time stood still for that one moment.
When her body relaxed its grip upon him, he began once again to move within her. Driving for his own release. Harder, and deeper, he went with a power no ordinary woman could have withstood. Lia, however, was once again climbing the precipice of sensation in preparation for hurling herself from it once again.
She felt him tense as his balls tightened in preparation for his release, he bent forward, and once again set his teeth against her neck. As his release claimed him, he bit down and injected the venom into her once again. This time, prepared for the unusual sensation of the bite, she used the stimulation to send her over the edge once again, arching and moaning in the powerful convulsion that gripped her body.
With a sigh and a growl, his body fell onto hers. He raised his head slightly and began to gently clean the wound he had left with his tongue.
When she had regained her senses and gotten her breathing under control, she turned to face him and asked, “So, when’s dinner?”
Chapter 4
"Food? I make love to you until you scream as your release overtakes you and you want food?” Marcus raised himself on his elbows and glared at Lia.
“Yep. I am a practical woman, without sustenance I would soon be of little use to you.” Lia grinned at the disgruntled look that Marcus was wearing.
He levered off of her, peeling his skin from hers where sweat had begun to bond them together. He stood up and breathed deeply of the earthy scent of their coupling, smiling, shaking out his wings and shifting into full human form.
“I do so enjoy your scent coupled with mine, but you are correct, I must feed you. For our child, if nothing else.” He let his possessive gaze slide from the blue lines that encircled her neck to the bite marks now on either shoulder, to her flat white belly.
He went to the small table on one side of the room and set it for two, then gestured for her to join him. She climbed out of the great bed and walked stiffly to the chair that he held out for her, muscles protesting her recent activity. She eyed the repast with some delight, there were cold meats, sliced cheeses and bread wrapped in a soft cloth. On the tray was also water and wine. Considering her possible condition, she opted for the water, and dove into the food like a starving woman.
As the meal disappeared from the table, Lia seemed to relax. The next thing on her agenda was a bath, then sleep, and then maybe Marcus could make himself available as a training tool for how to please a man. She laughed at herself but admitted that a
man she couldn’t snap like a twig was an awfully tempting thing.
“So, do you think that the bath water is still warm?” There was hope in her eyes as she met his across the table.
“If it isn’t, it will be.” Marcus rose from the table and held out his hand. Unthinkingly Lia took it, but all he did was bring her hand to his lips for a small kiss, and then turned to lead her by the hand to the bathing chamber.
The water had cooled, but after a small bit of domestic magic it was soon steaming again.
Lia lowered herself into the water with a groan; it felt so good to let the water loosen her muscles and wash the sticky results of their coupling from her thighs. Her eyes flew open when she felt Marcus behind her, sitting on the ledge of the tub and drawing her back to his chest.
“I know you must have a thousand questions about dragonkind and your new home, so let’s start with the ones that are foremost in your mind and go from there.” His voice rumbled through his chest and vibrated the solid wall of muscle against her back in a soothing way.
“Are you going to bite me every time that we mate?” She sounded tired, and just a little hesitant.
He gave a small snort of laughter, “No, just until we are sure that you are pregnant, perhaps twice more.”
“Fair enough I guess, but I reserve the right to use my teeth on you, should the mood strike me.” She smile and gave a small shrug. “Okay, what am I going to be doing here anyway, can I have access to the smithy?”
“Not at first, you are to begin teaching at the hospice this week, and learn to be the lady of the manor. In time, you may resume your metal work, but not until the first child is born.” The tone that he used brooked no argument on the subject, but she privately thought that he didn’t know whom he was dealing with. ’Lady of the manor…ha!’
She relaxed into him as he brought his arms around her, and began to lather a washcloth with a bar of soap. When he had a sufficient amount of lather built up, he put the soap on the side of the tub and began to wash her body quite thoroughly. His hands circled her breasts and moved upward to her neck. Slowly he cleaned the bite marks he had left on each side of her neck. She couldn’t see his face, but she sensed that he was admiring the filigree tracery that the venom had drawn beneath her skin. After the wounds were cleaned he rinsed them, and began to seriously bathe the rest of her.
In a brusque fashion he washed her arms, her face, her breasts back and legs. Treating her as though she were an invalid. After washing each part he rinsed it clear of soap, and then tackled the next. When he reached the valley between her thighs his ministrations eased, gentled, and slowed.
He took his time exploring and ‘cleaning’ every fold and crevice. He teased back the hood of her clitoris with a gentle finger and began a slow massage with his ‘cleansing’ cloth. When she began to arch and squirm against him he lifted her slowly and impaled her from behind on his swollen manhood.
Slowly he began to work her body against his, knowing her to be helpless to control either the depth or speed at which they coupled. The ridges on his cock slowly dragging in and out of her were a pleasurable torture. As he leisurely thrust himself into her, he let his finger find that hidden bud and begin to circle it steadily in time with his rhythm. Her hands gripped and kneaded his thighs, her body arched like a bow, and her breath was now coming in gasps.
She was amazed that his slow and lazy seduction was sending her helplessly to the pinnacle of those sensations once again. With a final gasp and a soft moan, the gentle invasion sent her over the edge once again, this time her body pulsed gently in time to the intruder’s assault. With an equally sedate groan, he released his seed inside her, dropping his forehead to her back, and breathing heavily as his body spasmed and heaved its release.
“Once a day for the venom is plenty,” he said when he had recovered enough to speak again. “Now, little one, I think that you are tired from our exertions, so I believe that I will let you rest whilst I attend to some urgent matters that have arisen.”
“Huh. I thought that the matters that had ‘arisen’ had just been taken care of.”
She tried to smile, but her fatigue was suddenly overwhelming. Her body had been through too much in one day to cope with anymore. She let him lift her out of the tub, dry her and tuck her into the great bed like a child. She heard him dress and she must have fallen asleep before he left her.
The next morning she awoke to find a heavy arm around her body with the hand firmly clamped onto her breast. “About time you woke up,” was all of the warning she got before she was rolled to her back and a hard hand was separating her thighs to delve in between them.
When he had plunged his fingers into her enough to assure his entry would cause her no pain, working the damp heat all around, he mounted her. Thrusting leisurely at first, in time to her beating heart and increasing the tempo and depth of his thrusts as her heart began to race. Her hips rocked in time to his onslaught, her skin flushed and her arms once again clutching at him, digging her nails into his biceps as passion and need to climax drove out all thought.
As she became lost to sensation, he stilled and she let out a keening cry of desperation. With one hand he anchored her to him and in a quick flip she was riding her dragon.
With an uncertain look, she began a stuttering rhythm that swiftly took on speed and power as she watched his eyes close and his head rock back against the pillows.
With his hands now free, he began a gentle fondling of her breasts, interspersed with hard grasping fingers as he neared his own finish. He arched his back up and suckled at one breast whilst fondling the other. This final sensation was too much for Lia; with an ear rending shriek she announced her climax and ground her hips against his.
As he felt her heated inner chamber collapsing and pulsing around him, Marcus left her breast and fastened both of his hands on her hips to pump her up and down on his desperate cock. With his own howl of release he pumped himself into her, once again holding her hips sealed to his as pulse after pulse of semen left his body.
After their heartbeats and breathing once again regained normal cadence, Marcus lifted her and carried her once again to the bathing chamber. After performing their morning ablutions, he announced that it was time to begin her new life.
“Rifal will take you to the hospice this morning, and a seamstress will arrive this afternoon. Tomorrow will be soon enough for the tour.”
With a long look at her leather garb, he nodded to himself as if confirming a decision. “Green and jewel tones will suit you very well, but we must be careful of the shades or your pale skin will give you a sickly cast.”
“I don’t need new clothes, my leathers are just fine.” She knew that she was just being contradictory, but to have a man she barely knew-- fine, her new life-mate-- picking out her clothing, was not something she had planned for. Lia hadn’t considered that her new status would require that she dress the part, and she was uncomfortable at the thought of the finery.
“You will wear the clothing provided for you as the lady of the manor, and you will be all smiles and politeness to the seamstress or I will take you over my knee.” Once again he used that tone that brooked no argument, so she nodded and said, “Well then, let’s begin our day. “
Rifal was a wealth of information about the manor and Lord Marcus. He had served him for the last fifty years-- for elves and dragons do not age as humans do-- and was as loyal to his fair and benevolent Lord as he was wary of his new Lady.
Marcus had always been devoted to education, healing and promoting invention in his domain. He had built schools, roads, sponsored new farm equipment, and started the hospice that treated all that were in need of its services.
The hospice itself was a wing of the castle that was devoted to the art of healing. Lia’s first impression was that it was spotlessly clean and that the staff who maintained and manned the area were exceptionally well trained.
She was introduced to her ‘class’ of healers, and began a dissert
ation on the common plant poultices that were useful in drawing out infection. Although some of the class members were familiar with the herbs used, they had never seen them prepared using the technique that her father had shown her and took copious notes.
Her class was interrupted when a novice burst into the room and asked her help in mending a broken bone. A small child had fallen out of a tree and the village healer would do nothing to straighten the limb. It had taken several days to travel to Marcus’ castle, and the bone would need to be re-broken and set before it could be healed.
Lia followed the novice out of the teaching rooms and into the general hospice. In one bed there was a child of six or seven crying softly and clutching at her father’s hand.
“Can you help her?” The desperation was clear in his voice, and he was on the edge of exhaustion himself.
“Yes, I believe so, which leg has been injured?” Lia used her most business-like voice, firm but with a touch of compassion for the beleaguered parent.
“The left, Lady. So you will help her?” Hope tinged the weariness of his voice.
“You go to that other cot and rest, we will see to her.”
The novice who had summoned her led the father away, and Lia approached the child, keeping her eyes down so that the little girl would not be frightened of the golden eyes with slit pupils.
“You just relax, little one, and everything will be well.”
The child was almost unconscious, and Lia laid a hand over her forehead. She reached into the child’s mind and covered it with a warm cocoon of pleasant memories that Lia had had in her own childhood. Butterflies, kittens, and warm summer apple trees were the most prevalent, and they were forming a web between the little girl’s mind and her body.
When the the girl’s mind and body separation was complete, Lia assessed the break. It had been relatively clean at the time it snapped, but the intervening days had begun to re-grow calcium over the imperfectly matched pieces. If not corrected, the child would always need a crutch to get around, and suffer incredible pain for her entire life.