by Dante King
Oddly, in the back of my mind, I noted that Hana tasted like lemon and cinnamon and gingerbread, and she smelled of clean pine woods—pure, warm, comforting smells that evoked images of pristine fields of crisp, white snow and nights spent wrapped in soft blankets in front of roaring log fires while snow fell softly outside the window.
“All right, seeing as we’re on somewhat of a time limit here,” I growled into Hana’s hair as the bearmancer kissed me around my throat, “I hope you’ll excuse me for taking the lead here.”
With a suddenness that made the Vetruscan gasp, I flipped her over and spun her around so that I was now on top and she was lying on her back on the little single bed.
Hana gave me a look of such heat and intensity that it could have been used in place of an acetylene torch.
“Nothing like maintaining diplomatic ties, is there?” she asked in a throaty voice.
“Yeah, it’s a tough job we have sometimes, isn’t it?” I replied, grinning. “But I suppose someone has to do it.”
With devastating, delicious slowness, Hana grasped the bottom of her shirt and, with a bit of tactical wiggling, managed to draw it upward.
As I had noted before, Hana’s breasts were amazing—the ideal size, a superb shape. They sat on her chest, firm and inviting and perky, her nipples stiffening as she watched me feast my eyes on them.
“The novelty of me hasn’t worn off, then?” she said teasingly, in that lovely lilting accent of hers.
I might have said something, I might have just drooled like a vegetable, I’m not one hundred percent.
Giggling with delighted amusement, Hana wriggled a little more, dragging off her tight-fitting breeches and dragging my eyes with them. The rising swell of her breasts was complemented by the juxtaposition of her flat, strong stomach. I could make out the subtle outlines of her abdominal muscles, which my gaze then followed downward, down to her shapely jutting hip bones. My eyes, now seemingly in freefall mode, were pulled ever downward until they were well south of the border, until…
“I’m not sure if you’re much of an artist, but you could always make a sketch of me,” she teased, “it’d be my gift to you.”
I shook my head, still running my hungry eyes over the bearmancer. Feeling my cock turning to stone in my breeches.
“I don’t think even the best artist in all the world could do the view that I’m currently enjoying justice,” I said.
As I gazed at her naked form, Hana cupped one of her jugs with her hand and gently squeezed and pulled at her rosy, pink nipple. She gave a little groan of pleasure and bit her bottom lip.
That was the only cue I needed. Even if I had had access to some sort of disrobing spell, I doubted I could have gotten naked faster than I did just then. In a flash, my pants, shirt, and boxers were strewn on the floor.
My cock was so hard that it might as well have been carved out of diamond. Hana’s eyes filled with longing as she took a good, prolonged look at it. She let go of her bottom lip, which she had been biting, but only so that she could stick her lovely pink tongue out from between her glistening lips and run it slowly along them, moistening them even more. She bit her top lip this time, and her deep, dark red eyes slid up the ridges of my chiseled stomach and over my muscular chest before they locked with mine.
“Is there some craziness about to go down here, Hana?” I asked with a smile.
Hana pulled harder at the nipple that she had been toying with.
“Depends on your definition of craziness, I suppose, Dragonmancer Noctis,” she said.
My own eyes flicked down to the bearmancer’s almost totally smooth pubic region. There was a single little triangle of precisely shaved hair, almost like a helpful arrow, guiding my gaze toward that part of her that I most wanted to get my hands on.
I felt myself twitch with anticipation and grow even harder, if that was possible. I swallowed.
Hana’s hand settled on my thigh and crept upward; inching up my strong leg, closer to my throbbing member.
“I want you inside of me, Mike,” Hana said, and there was an urgency in her voice.
Cursing inwardly a little, I said, “You know I won’t be able to cum inside of you. I can’t risk knocking you up again, not without any Etherstones.”
Hana grinned wolfishly at me. “Then, let me please you, Dragonmancer Noctis.”
“In the interest of our diplomatic ties?” I said.
“Of course,” the Vetruscan said.
“If you insist,” I said. “I’d hate to cause offence by turning down such a tempting and selfless offer. I don’t want to cause an international incident now, do I?”
“Perish the thought,” Hana said softly.
I moaned as Hana grasped me boldly by the base of my rod, massaging my balls with firm, skilled fingers. Hot lust flooded through my groin into my stomach and into my chest. The bearmancer stroked me, up and down, up and down, up and down, all the while looking intently into my face.
Kneeling over Hana, I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the rhythm of her wonderfully dexterous hands. The bearmancer knew exactly when to squeeze and how fast to work my shaft. She would edge me right up to the brink of cumming, spitting on her palms every now and again to help her hands slide over my eager cock, before pulling back and letting me simmer down again.
After a little while of enduring this delicious torture, I pulled my prick free of Hana’s hands and said, “That’s it, I need to be in you. Right now.”
Without a word, Hana lay back on the bed and opened her legs to reveal her glistening wet sex. I felt my heart rate pick up, my breathing coming heavy through my nose. The Vetruscan was so wet and eager that it was the work of a moment for me to push the tip of my cock up against her tight slot and then guide it home.
Hana let out a long, ecstatic sigh. She ran a hand down her stomach, nails tracing white lines across her navel and then put it between her legs. She gave another soft little moan, which seemed to tug at every one of my primal instincts, and began rubbing at her clitoris, rising up on her elbows so that she could watch me thrusting in and out of her. She grunted and her back arched as I thrust into her again and again. Her nails ran down my back, leaving trails of pleasurable, tingling fire in their wake. She grabbed my asscheeks as if she were trying to force me as far inside her as she could.
We ground against one another, both of us watching each other out of half-closed eyelids. The only sound was the slap of my nuts against her wet box, the hiss of skin on skin as we ran our hands over one another, the whimper and rasp of Hana’s heavy breathing, and the wet sucking noises as my dick slid in and out of her.
The bed was not a big one, so I can say without doubt that we covered every inch of that thing. The ancient but clean mattress groaned more than once as we shifted our position again and again.
I pushed Hana up toward the head of the bed so that she was pressed against the cool stone wall and fucked her doggy-style. Her ass was something that I could quite happily have looked at all day, and the sight of it, as I fucked her hard from behind, sent my lust skyrocketing into heights. I smacked the bearmancer’ asscheeks as she bucked vigorously backward to meet my every thrust, impaling herself deeper and deeper onto my shaft. She was groaning loudly now, gasping every time I stabbed my cock into her, reveling in every smack of my balls against her clit.
Suddenly, the Vetruscan blurted something out that I didn’t quite catch.
“Come again?” I said, panting as I continued fucking her.
“That’s just… it!” Hana puffed frantically. “I… am cumming!”
It was unexpected, but not unwelcome in the least. There was never anything wrong with someone getting off on my watch. It was one of the best compliments a girl could give you. Meant that you’d be pressing the right buttons and hitting the right spots.
With a sudden desperate, whining exhalation, Hana put her hands against the stone wall of the sleeping chamber and reared back, shuddering, and pressed herself hard against me.
I cupped both of her exquisite breasts in my hands, pinching the nipples as she writhed and squirmed against me.
With the knowledge that she was climaxing, and the sensation of her covering my cock and balls with her girl juice, it was as if the final dam inside of me, that held back my own ecstasy, suddenly cracked.
“Fuck!” I said. “Fuck! Me too! Shit!”
With a selflessness that was made all the more impressive by the fact that her eyes were still rolling in her head, Hana slid off my cock and turned around so that she was eye to eye with my woody. Without missing a beat, just as I surrendered myself to the coming explosion, she grabbed my cock put it into her mouth.
I bucked and twitched as I came in her mouth, my hot seed flooding over the Vetruscan’s lips. Hana lapped up every drop of my jizz, making the kinds of noises that pointed to someone having a whale of a time. A few flecks of cum splashed her chin, but apart from that, she made sure that Kakra might only have to wash the sheets, rather than burn them as might have been the case if Hana hadn’t been such a stunning team player.
“Holy shit, that was incredible!” I panted as the two of us flopped onto the bed, and Hana wiped the last of my jizz from her face.
Hana made a little mewl of agreement and swallowed.
“Agreed,” she said. “I can think of little else that turns me on more than licking my own juices off a nice hard cock. I am much in your debt, Dragon Breeder.”
“You’re in my debt?” I asked, with a breathy laugh. “I wouldn’t put it like that. If anything, I owe you!”
Hana patted me on the chest and kissed me on the side of the neck.
“Let’s just call it even then, hm?” she said. “And we are both safe in the knowledge that the Vetruscan-Mystocean alliance is still as strong as ever.”
“Another job well done,” I laughed softly.
Before we could sink into that nice, warm, pink-misted, lethargic embrace that usually comes after some hot, vigorous sex, there was a sharp rat-tat-tat at the door of the bed chamber.
“Dragonmancer, bearmancer,” came the voice of Kakra through the wooden door, “ready yourselves. It is time that we were leaving.”
“It’s been an hour already?” Hana asked me softly, as surprised as I was to learn that sixty minutes had already elapsed. I could have sworn that we had only been fucking for a little while.
“Time has the habit of flying, or so it is said, when you’re having fun,” came the knowing reply through the door. “Now, hurry, we have business to conclude with our dear friend Shaykh Antizah!”
“So much for a refreshing nap,” I said drily. “Although, after that sex, I feel like I could take on the world!”
Hana rolled off the bed. She reached down, picked up my breeches, and tossed them to me. She really was a sight, standing there like Lagertha Lothbrok in the nude. Tight ass and tight body, and a set of tits that you’d be content to say were the last pair of jugs you ever clapped eyes on. There weren’t too many women I knew that could look so incredibly dangerous dressed in nothing more than a collection of silver piercings and a smile, but somehow Hana managed it. She exuded lethality in about the same amount as she exuded raw sexual magnetism.
“You know what they say,” she said, the soft cadence of her exotic voice making my cock twitch eagerly, even as I pulled on my breeches.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“No rest for the wicked, Dragonmancer Noctis,” Hana said. “No rest for the wicked.”
I pulled my shirt over my head, pulled Hana to me, and kissed her hard on the mouth.
“That’s too bad for Shaykh Antizah. Because he’s about to find out just how wicked a Dragon Breeder can be.”
Chapter 16
We flew through the deepening night in silence. Far, far away on the western horizon, over the rising and falling dunes, the sky was still a heathery purple and there was a very faint white light running across the skyline.
“For a place that is mostly empty sand,” I said over my shoulder to Zala, “this homeland of yours sure can be beautiful.”
Zala gave me a small squeeze. Despite the chilliness that infused the desert air at the altitude of one-hundred feet, the catmancer seemed totally comfortable.
“Yes, it is. It is a beautiful place and mirrors the personalities of many of those who call it home,” she said to me.
“How’s that?” I asked politely.
“It can be harsh and unforgiving.”
“I have to tell you that the idea of the catmancers being enslaved to Shaykh Antizah sticks in my craw a little,” I said.
“Why do you think that is?” Zala asked me.
“In the world that I come from, though I was free to live as well as my financial situation allowed, I never got to enjoy the pure level of freedom that I enjoy in this world. There is so much potential here, so much that all of us might do and create and help with, that the fact that Shaykh Antizah thinks that he can just take you and your fellow catmancers freedom is quite sickening.”
Zala said nothing, but I felt her nod to herself, as if I had answered right.
“So, you want to help us because you are a good person,” she said into my shoulder.
I chuckled at that. I wasn’t sure that I was necessarily a good person, not what you might consider an angel, but I tried to be as good an individual as I could be.
“Let’s just say that I think it’s imperative that everyone gets given the same chance to live their life as everyone else,” I said. “And if that means that I have to help to save the catmancers from some egomaniacal bastard, then that’s what I’ll do.”
We flew on in silence for a little longer. Off to my right, the young moon was gleaming and sliding its light along Corvar’s mercurial back. Renji caught me looking over at her and gave me a small wave, which I returned. Behind the djinn, Kakra was sitting tucked in tight behind her. The old wormmancer’s robes were streaming out behind her in the wind of the Steel Dragon’s passage.
I turned my head to the left and saw Tamsin and Hana riding Fyzos, the Force Dragon. Will, the wisp, was perched serenely on the dragon’s rump. He was happily unconcerned with the wind that should have been buffeting him. He was looking as relaxed as an entity with no discernable face could look. In the light of the strengthening moon, the spiky, angular dragon glowed a spooky amber.
Noctis was under me, blacker than the desert night sky. If there had been anyone on the dunes below us to look up, I figured we would have presented quite an ominous sight.
“Mike?”
“Yeah, Zala,” I said.
“You know, I am very touched by this,” the catmancer said softly.
“Touched by what?” I asked.
“By your willingness to help me. To help my fellow catmancers. To assist the people of Akrit in cutting out and potentially ridding themselves of the cancer that is the Shaykh’s hold on this country.”
I shook my head, reached out, and patted the woman’s arm, which was crossed over my stomach. “I told you, it’s nothing, Zala. Just trying to do what is right. Plus, like I said, Shaykh Antizah is the sort of asshole that would put a snake in your pocket and then ask you for a light or some spare change. People like that shouldn’t be running countries. Leaders are meant to fear their people and do all they can to please them, not the other way around.”
“That is very wise, Mike,” Zala said.
“Well, it’s often said that the fish stinks from the head down. It wasn’t too much of an original thought on my part.”
“And I am of a like mind,” Zala told me. “However, I must ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“How do you propose to accomplish this feat? The Shaykh is a clever and cunning man. Ruthless and quick-witted. He will not hesitate in killing you should he find you. He will also certainly think very little of raking up much collateral damage if it means finding and finishing me.”
“If I’m being honest, Zala,” I said, “I was kind of hoping that this fli
ght, and this view, might set a seed of inspiration to flourish in my mind as regards a plan. Unfortunately, I haven’t thought of anything particularly clever just yet.”
“Then please let me warn you that you cannot just blast the entire city with your dragons and hope to drive the Shaykh out, nor even the palace alone if your fine beasts are capable of more accurate destruction,” Zala said.
“No?” I asked, feeling a little gutted at this news.
The thought had occurred to me of just flattening Shaykh Antizah’s pad with dragonfire. Fyzos’ force fire would have been particularly useful for knocking over the walls of the mammoth building and squashing the Shaykh like a bearded cockroach.
“No, you must not adopt such an approach,” Zala said firmly.
“You don’t think that tactic would go down well with the locals, huh?” I asked. “Even if we’re doing it for their benefit?”
“The proletariat won’t stand that sort of stratagem,” Zala insisted as Noctis skimmed over the peak of one particularly enormous, mountain-sized dune. “There will be no time to warn them that it is not some random attack from the dragonmancers that entered their city.”
I nodded my head at this. “And no doubt that slippery fucker, Shaykh Antizah, would have heralds out proclaiming that that is exactly what was going on, turning the whole city against us.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what he would do,” Zala agreed. “Though many of the citizenry hate the Shaykh, they also love their city with a fierce passion, so you—we—will have to be a bit tactful in our approach if we can manage it.”
I looked out over the dunes glowing like piles of silver dust, or like the gentle waves of some frozen ocean, in the light of the rising moon. This revelation made things just that little bit more difficult. What was more, time was already not on our side.
“There is… something else too, Mike Noctis,” Zala’s smooth voice said into my ear.