by Dixon, Ruby
Rast snorts and then shakes his head. I am barely inside you, my mate. The spearing has not yet begun.
I can feel my cheeks flush. Oh. Well, give me everything, then.
So impatient. I like that.
Now I'm really blushing, but his next small movement distracts me away from that. His hips rock and he pushes just a little deeper inside me, increasing the feeling of fullness. He moves in quick, rapid, shallow strokes, pushing into me a little further each time, and each movement of his body feels better and better. It seems impossible that I can take more, and yet with every press forward, he sinks into me until his hips finally meet my skin and then he's sank deep. He leans on one arm over me, then reaches up and caresses my face, brushing my hair off my sweaty cheeks. I like mating you like this. I can see your face when I pleasure you.
I like this too, I tell him shyly, not trusting my voice. I like looking up at him, how fierce and wild he seems, and yet when he gazes down at me, I know he sees me. That he's not thinking about anything or anyone other than plain, crippled Amy. My eyes fill with emotional tears.
Do not make water with your eyes, he chastises, leaning in to kiss away my tears. You will make my cock shrivel.
I giggle through my emotions and sniff hard. “Sorry.”
Just tell me you do not cry out of sadness.
I cry because I'm so happy, Rast. You make me feel beautiful.
That is because you are.
In the next moment, he fills my mind with how he sees me. I'm spread wide underneath him, my breasts bouncing with every thrust he makes, and I can feel in his thoughts just how much he likes the sight of them, the curve of my stomach, the pink tips of my nipples. He likes the sheen of sweat on my face and how I gaze up at him, my lips parted. In his eyes, I am a wild, sensual, beautiful creature with an enchanting scent and lovely eyes. My leg doesn't even factor in.
I moan at how arousing the mental image is, and I can feel how much he likes that, too. He's pulled me completely into his mind, and it's the most erotic thing I've ever experienced. It makes my body clench, and I realize dimly that I'm on the verge of coming again. It's too soon. I want to last longer, but he gives another one of those sexy rumbles, pleased at how quickly I'm about to come, and I can't help it. I cry out as my pussy clenches tight around him, even as he drives into me. It just makes everything tighter, and he doesn't stop thrusting into me or change his rhythm so I can catch my breath. It's like he's determined to make me orgasm all over again.
He's not wrong, either, because no sooner does my entire body ripple with release, I feel another round moving through me. It's like a wave on the beach, a quick ebb and then another rush forward. I dig my nails into his skin and groan aloud as the orgasm continues to rocket through me, and it feels like I'm going to never stop coming, just like it feels as if Rast will never stop pumping his cock into me, his mind filling mine with images of what we look like twined together.
I glance down between us, gasping at the sight of his cock pushing into my body, and I send him an image of that. If he wants to play that game, I can do it, too. He grits his teeth, breath hissing between them, and his movements become erratic, jerky. He clutches my thigh tighter, and even as I whimper into yet another orgasm, I sense him on the edge of his. With a guttural snarl that almost sounds like my name, he rocks forward into me, and then I feel the warm flood of his release inside me.
His movements slow, and then he rests atop me, his forehead pressed to mine as if our minds need to touch to remain linked. It's just me being fanciful, but I like how touchy-feely he is and how he loves to caress me and touch me at all times. I didn't realize how starved I was for affection. My sister is wonderful, but she's so independent and strong, and a sister's affection is different from a man's.
Or a dragon's.
Rast shifts his weight atop me and rolls me gently to my side, and then pulls me against him, our bodies still linked. It sends little quivering shocks through me with every twitch he makes, and I feel like I'm going to be on the verge of another orgasm very quickly if he so much as breathes deeply.
I like the thought of that, he sends to me, and nips at my shoulder as his arm slides possessively over my breasts.
Let a girl catch her breath, I tell him, dazed.
I shall, he promises, a teasing note in his thoughts. I need you well rested for tomorrow.
I frown in surprise at hearing that, glancing back over my shoulder at him. “Tomorrow? What's tomorrow?”
I think we shall fly out and leave this place for a better nest, he tells me. Going out today showed me that you need a great many things, and this nest provides none of them. Unless you wish to stay, I think we should continue onward.
“We could always head back into the city, toward Fort Dallas,” I offer, thinking of my sister.
Immediately, I feel his thoughts blacken and grow a little less clear. No. You are mine. I am not sharing you with another.
I want to point out that me getting to see my sister isn't exactly “sharing” me, but I know that dragons struggle with the rage that consumes their thoughts. I knew that going in, and while it's frustrating, I'll figure out a way to get a message to Claudia somehow. For now, my focus needs to be on Rast. As long as we're together and it's safe, I don't care where we go, I tell him sleepily. You pick.
He leans in and nips at my ear. We will find you the best nest, my mate. I promise you that.
I'm pretty sure I already have it because he's in it, but I'm too tired to argue.
18
AMY
It's a wonderful, exhausting night and we end up making love at least twice more before Rast finally wears out and lets me sleep for longer than an hour. Not that I mind. I secretly love being so sexy that he can't keep his hands off of me for more than an hour. By the time I wake up, though, the sun is high in the sky, the birds are chirping, and Rast is still curled next to me in bed, fast asleep.
I yawn and gaze out at the big, open hole in our room, not quite ready to leave bed just yet. He's right that we need to find someplace better to stay. The open-air thing is all right, but the moment we get a rainstorm, everything inside is going to mildew. I know Claudia's griped about the same thing in her “nest.” We need a place that's big enough for Rast to shift to battle-form comfortably—which this suite doesn't really qualify as—and we need someplace where I can be comfortable, too. What kind of building that is, I'm not sure. We'll figure something out.
As I ponder this, a fat dove flutters in and sits on the ledge, cooing. I smile at the sight of it. I love how fearless the birds are around Rast. It's like they aren't afraid of dragons at all, which is ironic, because humans are utterly terrified of dragons. Funny how the world works like that. I watch as the bird struts along the edge and then flaps its wings before settling down.
Then I frown. It looks like there's a splotch of bright color on the thing's leg. I sit up, because I'm not entirely sure I saw it. Maybe I'm imagining things or it's a trick of the light.
Rast's arm tightens around my waist. What is it?
I think that bird has something on his leg, I tell him silently. He might be a messenger pigeon. Dove. Whatever.
Messenger pigeon?
He might have a message from other people! I pat his arm excitedly. We have to catch it!
I can feel a wave of dislike toward the bird sweep from his mind. What if I do not wish to? I care nothing for other people, Amy. I only want you.
Then do it for me, I ask him sweetly. Because I want to see what that bird has.
He frowns at me for a moment longer, as if what I want is warring with what he wants. I'm curious how he'll respond. I know his possessiveness is something he struggles with, but I'm not going to live in a bubble for the rest of my life. Not anymore. Not when being with him has given me a taste of freedom.
I can't go back to Amy, lost princess in the tower. I'm moving toward Amy, Badass Dragonrider. While I'm not there yet, I feel a lot closer to her than the dreamer I was.<
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Rast continues to give me a thoughtful glare, and the bird coos and shakes its wings again. I hold my breath, worried it's going to fly away. My dragon-man flies out of the bed in one quick motion, so fast that he's not much more than a golden blur. He snatches the bird before it can get away, landing hard against the edge of the window hole with a smooth tumble of golden skin and flowing hair.
I gasp, trying to get out of bed, because it looks as if Rast is inches from rolling out of the penthouse entirely. The blankets wrap around me and I flail, landing on the ground in a tumble.
I can change forms, he tells me with a soothing thought. Do not harm yourself to chase me. I still have your bird. Be calm. He is holding still.
I manage to get to my feet and wrap the sheet around my body, feeling embarrassed at how clumsy I am. So much for Amy the Badass. Baby steps, I tell myself. You'll get there. I lift my head and Rast is getting to his feet as well, the bird clutched in his clawed hands. Sure enough, it's being very still.
I limp over to his side, and then a knot of horror forms in my throat. “Oh, Rast,” I say softly as I take it from his hands. The bird doesn't move. Its neck flops at an awkward angle and I feel a surge of grief. He must have landed on it when he tried to grab it. Poor bird. I stroke a finger over its feathered head even as I spot the note on its leg. “It's dead.”
He grunts. Breakfast, as you call it.
I give him a look of horror. “This was someone's pet. I can't eat it.”
Rast's expression is curious. It is meat.
“Now it is!” I gesture at the dead bird. “But he's someone's trained pet. Was someone's trained pet. We don't eat cats, just like we don't eat pet birds.”
You are upset.
“I am! Someone's waiting for him to come back and he's never going to.” My lower lip wobbles at the thought. Why do I feel so much grief at an accidentally killed bird? Is it because someone's waiting back home for me? Or am I just being a baby about this? I blink back my stupid tears because Rast moves to my side, nuzzling at my neck and hair, his thoughts full of apology. He didn't mean to kill it. I know he didn't. He just didn't realize how very fragile it was. If anything, it's my fault for asking him to snatch it. If it's truly someone's pet, I could have gotten it myself, maybe.
Yet another life lesson that Princess Amy needs to have beaten into her head. I sigh and turn the poor little dead bird over, eyeing the red tube on his tiny leg. “He's definitely got a message.”
I do not understand, Rast tells me, rubbing my arms. He cannot speak. He is a bird.
“A written message, like in my books.”
A story? He's interested now. From our conversations, I know he has a hard time grasping what written language is. It seems that the drakoni don't have that, and if the Salorians do, they didn't share it with him. It's just another difference between our peoples. What does his story say? he asks.
“Let's take a look,” I murmur, and hand him the bird so I can pull the sleeve off of the tiny leg. It unclasps and then I pull the tiny rolled note out of the miniature tube and unravel it. The paper is tremendously small, but the handwriting is very neat and regular.
FORT SHREVEPORT IS VERY SMALL BUT PROSPEROUS. WE ARE GOOD PEOPLE. WE ARE CURRENTLY UNDER SIEGE BY A KING DRAGON THAT REFUSES TO LEAVE. PLEASE HELP US IF YOU CAN. OUR PEOPLE ARE STARVING BECAUSE WE CANNOT LEAVE THE CITY AND SUPPLIES ARE LOW. XO, JOANNA
I read the note twice more and look over at Rast as I fold it up carefully. “I had no idea there was a small fort in Shreveport. It must be new. I've heard of Orleans and Dallas and Tulsa, but not Shreveport. It's not far from here.”
It means nothing to me, Rast tells me. I do not know this place.
I don't, either. I'm too young to remember much about it other than it's in Louisiana somewhere. “I bet we could find a map and follow the old highways to get to it. Most of the signs are still up, especially the ones by the roads. We can follow those and go help them.”
Help them? Rast growls in clear disapproval, and his eyes flicker ever darker. Why would we help them?
“You heard what they said,” I tell him, shaking the note. “They're starving. A king dragon—that's a male dragon—won't let them out of their city. They can't hunt. If it's anything like Fort Dallas, everyone's dependent on what hunters bring in or what can be scavenged. And if the area they're in is already picked clean…” I swallow hard at the thought. Someone's waiting back in Fort Shreveport, hoping that this bird is going to come back. That they'll be saved.
Except I killed their bird. Their only chance of survival might be me with my bad leg and my angry, possessive dragon. We have to go.
No. I forbid it.
“Well, that's really nice and all, but it's not your decision.”
He steps forward, nostrils flaring, eyes dark with anger. One hand curls around my throat in a grip that could either be possessive…or menacing, if I didn’t know him better. Is it not? Am I not the one with wings? I control whether we leave this nest or not.
I blink at him, utterly calm. “If you're trying to intimidate me, it's not working. I realize you're jealous, Rast. I can feel it in your head even now.” His thoughts are murky and full of jealousy at the thought of me around other people. “But I'm not going to let a bunch of people die if we can help them.”
He strokes my neck with his fingers, curious at my lack of reaction. You are not afraid of me?
I snort. “No. You're more likely to get down on your knees and lick my pussy than you are to choke me.”
A surprised grin crosses his face and then his eyes gleam with arousal. I like that idea.
“Focus, baby.” I pat his chest. I'm learning my dragon, just like he's learning me. He's a lot of bluster and rage, but he also listens to me. “If it's a king dragon, why would he be attacking a city?”
He smells a mate and she is hiding from him, he says immediately, his eyes sliding back to gold as he rubs the tip of one finger against my throat.
“Right.” It's getting harder to focus, because even that small touch is turning me on. “We can warn them about it. Help them figure out how to handle the situation.”
And if their males try to touch you? Try to breathe in your scent? His thoughts blacken immediately.
“If any of the men there try to touch me, you are free to eat all of them.” I think of the vile militia back in Fort Dallas and their crude remarks. The world would probably be better off minus a few jerks like that. “But there might be families there. Children. Starving.”
His eyes go distant. I know what it is like to starve.
I seize on that. “Exactly. And you know how desperate it can make a person. We can help them, Rast. You said yourself you wanted to find a new place for a nest. Why don't we go exploring in that direction? We can see what it's like, help them out, and then be on our way.” I glance at the dead bird, still cradled in one of Rast's hands. I wouldn't mind finding if there are more of those messenger birds. I could send a message back to Claudia that way, let her know I'm all right.
Or better yet, maybe Rast will be around humans and decide they're not all that bad and we can go return to my sister.
I will never see humans as anything but the enemy, he tells me with a scowl.
“Now I know you're wrong,” I tell him lightly, reaching up to caress his strong jaw. “Because you mated to me.”
You are different. You are mine. His eyes flare bright gold again. All mine.
“And all human,” I point out. “I'm not saying you have to be best friends with anyone. I'm just saying we can help them without compromising who and what we are.”
I do not like this, he warns me, a troubled look swirling in his expressive eyes. I do not like the thought of putting you in danger.
“In danger?” I shake my head. “I'm safe. I'm with you. That dragon isn't going to give two shakes of his head in regard to me because I'm mated, right?”
I meant the humans. He sends a visual through my head of my bad leg, of some of t
he bad memories he's picked up from my time in Fort Dallas. I had no idea he'd been fishing through my thoughts so hard. I do not like the thought of them even coming close to you.
“We'll figure something out. I promise to let you protect me as much as possible,” I vow to him. “We're a team. We'll compromise. We'll help the city and this Joanna person, but we won't get comfortable. And I won't talk to any men, I promise.”
The growl building in his throat dies, slowly. And you will let me cover you in my scent before we even get close to them.
Cover me in his scent? “Of course. What did you have in mind?”
His eyes gleam and he tosses the poor dead bird out the gaping hole in the wall. I gasp as he stalks toward me, intent clear in his eyes. I know just what he means by covering me in his scent. Lots of sex, and lots of his body all over mine. “All right,” I say, a tremble in my voice. It's one part need, one part fascination by his dangerous expression. Did I think he was tame? I must be out of my mind. “But wash your hands,” I whisper. “Birds are filthy.”
He chuckles low and scoops me into his arms in a bridal carry. Shall we go and play in the water-box? You can challenge me again.
I blush. “Your idea of challenge is very different from mine.”
You can show me the difference, he tells me with a flirty thought.
Lord help me, but I love that idea.
19
RAST
After a long, leisurely mating and a nap, my Amy moves around our nest, packing away things and deciding what we need to take with us. She has taken one of the bedsheets from another room and is sewing it into a loop of kinds, which she says will be useful during flying.
I do not argue, and let her do as she likes. She feels good about this decision. She worries about the strangers that sent the bird, but I can feel excitement in her mind. She has a mission, my Amy, and she is determined to see it through.
I let her think she has won our argument. That she has convinced me of the wisdom of our mission.