His eyes slanted at her with a predator’s excited gleam. “Come closer, my lady.”
She crept over to his long, fanged snout. She inhaled his scent, such a heady, musky mix of earth and fire, she felt almost drugged. His long, red tongue snaked out between razor teeth and aimed a lick at her. She didn’t move away. He did it again, and this time the wet-sandpaper surface reached her breasts and made a damp, electrifying sweep across her nipples. She cried out and pushed her breasts even farther onto his tongue, until Eremon growled, his serpent’s body twisting in reaction.
She stumbled then, legs barely able to hold her. Reaching for his neck, Lydia pressed her slick face against the length of it. She stroked the smooth underside; the scales were softer here, more vulnerable. Under her hands, his raspy, hoarse breath and the hard drumbeat under his hard exterior pounded louder and louder, filling the room. The beat and the beast called to her, willing her to continue.
She climbed up the lowered side of his neck, turning so her bottom faced his muzzle, almost sending her off his back as they both shook and shuddered at the sensation of her soft flesh against the harsh edges of black scales.
Smoke poured between her legs, and she fell belly-down across the top of him.
Again Eremon’s slick tongue darted out and hit the target—right between her legs, sending a wet, electrifying lick across her entire pussy. She cried out, spasming into an immediate, shuddering orgasm, and he licked her again, the tip of his long tongue hitting her clit with perfect accuracy, almost rolling her off his back as they both shook and shuddered.
She looked down the ridged, rolling mass of his muscular underside and eyed his dripping cock, upright and swaying, as tall as her arm. Waiting.
She scooted down the length of him, clutching his sides with her arms, trying to mind the sharp edges of his thick scales. As she grew nearer, her breath fanned across the erect, fire red phallus, eliciting another smoky roar. The ridge of the head was circled in thick, garnet-colored flesh, and the wide bottom end was bound with his enormous sac of testicles. They, too, quivered in anticipation, the whole package shuddering.
Her mouth watered, and her pussy tightened. Any inhibitions she still had left vanished.
She drew herself to her knees, wincing at the prickly surfaces, and stretched her body full out, her legs splayed out on either side.
He had told her about this, had tried to explain. Yet nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming need flooding every cell in her body. She craved his fluids like life itself. She had to taste him. This must be what he meant when he said her Draca blood would direct her. It commanded Lydia to her knees, demanded that she stretch for his jutting cock, until her tongue could reach the wide, slick head.
Grasping the shuddering tower of flesh with both hands, she opened her mouth as wide as it would go and sucked the salty, earthy fluid down her throat, swallowing convulsively. Long-dormant Draca life force flooded her with ambrosial fluids and then exploded in a red-hot blast of fiery energy. She screamed in a kind of pain-ecstasy and, forgetting where she was, almost fell off. He rolled to catch her, throwing her back against his cock.
It had been done; the spell Nareen had woven pinwheeled into her very cells. The long-awaited signal had been given, and the rivers of microscopic Draca DNA woke up in a frenzy to reproduce.
She was covered in sweat; her arms slipped against the slickness of his heaving sides as she struggled to press the whole of her body back across his belly. He, too, was covered in fluids, the wetness thicker and more sticky than hers. It cooled the heat and made it possible to lay her cheek against his hide, and for brief seconds, she closed her eyes.
As Lydia’s sweat bonded with the salty essences pouring from Eremon, the combination exploded the dormant Draca cells into shuddering life. In the next instant, her pussy convulsed across Eremon’s belly. The nuclear version of what she had experienced at the council table shot an instant orgasm through her entire body, arching her back and contorting every pussy muscle in a delirious rush. She screamed in ecstasy as a continuous orgasm rocket-blasted up her spine and drenched Eremon’s rough scales with her orgasmic fluid.
Eremon grunted deeply, the viscous fluid pouring from him, soaking Lydia’s underside. Forgetting where she was, and imagining only Eremon’s hands, mouth, and cock on every inch of her body, she lost her grip and almost slipped off again. He rolled neatly and caught her, the cave echoing his grunts and her gasping breaths.
Where she started or ended, she no longer knew. Her shuddering human flesh was his flesh, his fire, his blood, her own.
“Eremon!” she screamed, not sure if he could hear her.
That’s all she needed to say. He managed to reverse positions in one graceful swoop, somehow keeping her on top as she sprawled across his ridged back. A deafening sound filled the cavern. Dazed, she saw the ceiling erupt in a blast of rocks, and as soon as there was clearance, Eremon uttered a mighty roar of triumph and streaked out to the open skies.
The cool moist air streamed like a blessing across her overheated body. She clung to the ridged flesh of her soaring Draca while Eremon’s vital life force raced into every corner of her being, an adrenaline rush that had her jerking and twisting like a mad thing while tears poured uncontrollably down her face.
She threw back her head and howled at the sky in pure joy, the intensity of everything she had experienced spilling over, completely undoing her. She propelled herself up, sitting astride like she was riding a horse, fear of falling long gone. The pumping of Eremon’s wings as he raced through the sky at top speed filled her with ecstasy.
Tears changed to laughter, then to something else, as the powerful winged creature between her legs soared and dived. She wanted Eremon the man’s cock in her as soon as possible. The minute they hit the ground would not be fast enough.
They flew straight through the last wispy strands of clouds and emerged to a breathtaking sight. The skies were full of flying Draca. Circling, dipping, swooping close, they surrounded Eremon above and below, a flying honor guard escorting them home. She caught sight of a tiny Draca, wings flapping at twice the rate of all the others, trying to keep up. Camus. Her heart swelled when he dived close enough to duck his head in salute, until he was swept away in the crowding horde of wings and flying bodies.
Great wings of sinewy hide beat in rhythmic waves, bending the treetops below. Flames singed the clouds the higher the Draca flew. Truly, she belonged here, soaring in the sky with these incredible creatures. She didn’t care if they ever landed.
*
They hit the ground all at once in synchronized grace, landing in an open green meadow. Wings folded back in windy drafts, and beast forms melted away with liquid beauty. The air resounded with the jubilant sounds of the Draca, laughing and exclaiming as they regained their human bodies, all of them rushing over to Eremon and Lydia.
Lydia rolled to her feet, gasping and out of breath, when she caught sight of a familiar face running toward her. “Lydia! Oh my God, Lydia!”
“Jennie!” Lydia cried in happy disbelief as Jennie collided with her, sweeping her into a huge hug. “What are you doing here—how did you get here?”
“Camus showed up in the house again and invited me to visit!” Jennie said, her face awestruck. “Is this great or what? And I saw you up there, flying!”
Lydia hugged her, her throat tight. Blessings overflowed.
Eremon was being led away by an excited contingent of grinning Draca males. He threw a look of apology over his shoulder at Lydia. She shrugged, smiling at him, her adrenaline still pumping. Her connection to him, to all the Draca, had been irrevocably bound, and the entire scene struck her as completely surreal. Life had moved permanently to an altered state of being.
Now with Jennie here, things could not be more perfect. Smiling, beautiful Draca women surrounded them, throwing silky wraps over Lydia’s flushed, naked body.
Chattering and laughing, they led Jennie and her across the meadow. Lydia g
ripped her friend’s hand and rejoiced at her presence. She didn’t even care where they were going. For once, she was going to simply enjoy this new, glorious reality. Besides, she thought with a throb of excitement, there wasn’t any doubt she’d be seeing her flying man soon. And they’d probably spend the rest of the night finishing what they had started.
Chapter Twelve
They were led to the first aboveground structure Lydia had seen. It looked like an old-style European castle, complete with turrets and a wide drawbridge over a moat. So many aspects of this magical world remained hidden and mysterious to her. That she went from caves to a sprawling castle right out of fairy tales didn’t surprise Lydia in the least. She suspected she’d get little explanation about the castle and didn’t say much as they followed their gorgeous escorts down marble corridors and across bright rooms with enormous fireplaces.
They were given luxurious suites and treated to an ultimate session of pampering. The women waited on them like personal servants; they were bathed, brushed, oiled, and fed like some kind of royalty.
Jennie hadn’t stopped grinning. Lydia filled her in as well as she could with the Draca women adding their bits to the conversation.
After a few hours of blissful indulgence, Nareen swept in and asked the women to leave.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Lydia looked at Jennie as if to say, Here we go. Pulse jumping, she gave Nareen her full attention. “For what?”
“For the Wall of Remembering.”
“This must be the part everyone’s been avoiding.”
Nareen reached a warm hand to Lydia’s cheek, gently cradling it. “Try not to worry, my beauty. You have come so far and surprised everyone with your strength. Just a little longer, now, and if all goes as well as I hope, we will be in your debt forever.” Nareen leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on Lydia’s lips. “Thank you, for everything,” she murmured and then left the room, leaving Lydia with tingling lips and Jennie gazing at her in total awe.
*
Without further ado, Lydia’s stomach dropped in the now-familiar transition, and in seconds, she found herself standing in the original cave.
Her attention was immediately drawn to the massive obsidian walls. Pulses of luminescent golden light throbbed in subtle rhythm, a counterbeat to her own. The great garnet jewel glowed from the center of the left wall. It hadn’t been there before; Lydia was sure of it. Yet another mystery to add to her growing list.
The entire Draca council had assembled around her, everyone wearing the same translucent emerald robe Nareen had given Lydia. They might as well have been wearing nothing—Lydia could clearly see thick cocks standing in arousal, the full breasts of the women, the dark hair between their legs. Eremon stood with his arms folded against his chest, watching her intently, fear and arousal warring on his face.
Nareen’s face showed no trace of emotion. “It is important that you do not try to stop the process once it has begun. More harm than good would come of it. In what form, I cannot say; however, it is imperative that the spell be allowed to finish.”
Lydia’s skin prickled in the tension-charged air. As usual, the Draca were silent.
Shaking off her nerves and determined to see this through, she looked for the spot on the right-hand wall Nareen had described. The outline of a standing body had been carved into the stone—the curvy hips and small waist obviously intended to be female. Remembering, and feeling again the irresistible draw of the wall, Lydia dropped her robe and walked over to it, naked.
The shape faced the stone, and as she fit herself against it, her backside faced the Draca. She leaned the full front of herself against the carving, the black stone cool against her belly and heated skin. Her breasts tingled as they pressed into the obsidian, a promise of more to come shuddering along her spine. She stretched her arms out to either side; her legs spread, and finding the edges of the carving, she fit each body part to the corresponding space.
As soon as she finished and stood motionless, she heard a dull roar, like a cresting ocean wave. A beam of bloodred light shot out from the garnet and hit Lydia’s carved outline, tracing every inch in laser-beam precision. Her body slammed hard against the surface and froze in place.
Closed doors in Lydia’s most hidden self wrenched apart. Long-dormant power, deep in the wall she shuddered against, pried open simultaneously in a massive burst, invading every cell of Lydia’s body.
Memories poured in. Memories of the Draca. Remembrances of a world filled with peace and joy that had existed for thousands of years, until the onset of humans… Unable to resist the allure of their blood, the Draca had intermingled and mated with them, not realizing their fatal error in judgment until it was too late.
The human world turned on them, hunting and killing Draca in battles full of bloodshed and mindless, sickening violence. She felt the hard thrust of swords cutting deep, the terror of bloodthirsty humans who raged against them out of superstitious fear that spanned centuries. The fires of flying Draca were no match for the humans’ relentless crawl across the planet, and their endless propensity for violence.
As she twisted and cried out, carvings on the black walls turned to molten gold, running liquid like volcanic lava pouring off the surfaces and sizzling along the edges of Lydia’s body.
Lydia screamed, living the memories and dying over and over with the Draca as the centuries progressed through her mind in rapid succession. She held on to just enough consciousness to know she had reached the point of no return. No one would rescue her or stop the sequence of memories that were ripping her heart out. She sobbed helplessly while the ancient stories flooded every cell of her being.
In desperation, a plan was hatched to save the remaining Draca, a spell more powerful than any ever attempted before. Nareen, in a great working, called upon the gods of their kind for a place of sanctuary—the sideways time, the world of Dracan. The entire race had fled and had lived hidden in their protected idyll for the last two thousand years. What they never anticipated was the effect that breeding with humans would have on their bloodline. The birth of their young ones slowed and finally stopped. They turned to inbreeding among those still pure of blood, trying to mend what had become so broken.
Lydia’s body twisted like a kite on a string, the rivers of memory chaotic and relentless. After a time, her arms flopped bonelessly to her side. Her role in the magic completely forgotten, she bowed her head, lost in despair and pain.
Faint noises sounded behind her. Slowly she gained awareness again of where she was. Cool hands touched her back; soothing words were murmured in the Draca tongue.
A woman’s body pressed against hers; she felt soft breasts and silky skin, hands running up and down her arms. A surge of well-being started at her feet and traveled to her head, shooting out the top in an intoxicating, healing rush. Lydia sighed, moaning in relief. It was Nareen, gently licking the hot sweat on Lydia’s neck, rubbing her nipples against Lydia’s sensitized skin, and bringing her back to full awareness.
Nareen tugged on her shoulders and turned her carefully around, still keeping her lodged against the black, carved magic. Lydia faced the Draca.
They had dropped their robes and stood facing her in magnificent nudity, the men’s cocks standing straight up, hard and aroused. In a surreal procession, they slowly approached, some kneeling before her, taking turns licking and kissing every damp inch of Lydia’s anatomy. Lydia’s sweat, her dripping pussy, every orifice, swam in hungry, revitalized Draca DNA, calling to the Draca like water in the desert.
Her desert vision flooded her memory. Everything had come back to that. The Draca—so thirsty.
Strong, masculine hands kneaded her breasts, a series of lips sucked on her nipples, and hot mouths fed on her clit, bringing her to blinding orgasm again and again. Pussy juices ran down her legs and then were sucked dry. Other hands reached behind her and parted her ass cheeks, fingers probing like erotic pistols, lips replacing fingers. Fingers in her ass and fi
ngers in her pussy convulsed her so many times, she lost track, lost track of everything except the delirious feeding of the Draca. They were feeding, feeding and healing as each swallowed her precious fluids. As they healed, some part of her rejoiced. Finally there was joy to share, joy instead of pain.
At some point Lydia opened her eyes. She wanted Eremon. Where was he? Where were his mouth and hands? Surely she would have known him, felt him, even in the electric mass surrounding her.
Eremon stood to one side of the crowd, his face full of jealous rage. He’d died a million deaths watching her suffer, then agonized as his brothers and sisters tasted and suckled her. She was his. When this was all over, he was going to make sure of it.
Finally, the last one had touched her.
“Enough!” He strode over to her, grabbed her hips, and lifted as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and in one convulsive movement, he impaled her on his jutting cock. Lydia screamed, her arms clutching his shoulders.
“You…are…mine,” he said with each thrust. He pounded her, the hot silk of her inner flesh gripping his cock so slick and hot and tight he almost exploded. He wanted to bury himself so deep inside of her, she would forget anyone except him. He knew he would never get enough of this Daughter of Draca.
Her nipples branded his chest, the wet, slapping sounds of their heated bodies the only noise he could hear. She came loose from the wall, and they fell to the floor, Lydia landing on his chest. In seconds he had her under him, never breaking contact, thrusting his cock as deep and hard into her dripping pussy as she could take. Years of repressed desire burst every inhibition, and his predator roared in approval. He grabbed for her breasts and squeezed, taking her nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking while he thrust over and over into her intoxicating, pulsing wetness.
An ignition of fire thundered from the base of his spine, and Eremon climaxed in a blast of thick, milky semen that overflowed out of Lydia and soaked the floor underneath them. He convulsed over and over in the multiple orgasms of his kind, and when the spasms stopped, he barely managed to pull away. Her cries rang in his ears.
Lydia and the Draca Page 8