by Ruby Dixon
His slick hands move up and down my back, and then he kneads my sides. I have to bite back a little moan of pleasure, because god, that feels good. Any nervousness I felt about him touching me has been rubbed right out of my mind. I lean forward with a little sigh so he can knead the muscles of my lower back. “I don’t know if this is instinct or something that dragons do for each other, but it’s pretty nice,” I tell him sleepily.
Dakh just says my name again, gliding a slippery hand all the way back up to my shoulders once more. My eyes are closed and I’m feeling good, which is why it comes as a surprise when his front presses against my back and he reaches around to my front to knead my breasts.
I gasp at the sensation, startled. His hands slide over my boobs, rubbing them just like he did the muscles in my back, and I wonder if he realizes that this is an out-of-bounds area for women. Or are dragons different? Even as I contemplate this, he slides his fingers over my nipples, and a low moan tears from my throat.
Dear God, that…felt really good.
He rumbles low in his throat, and his hands continue to work my breasts, rubbing and plucking at my now-tight nipples. I can feel my pulse pounding between my thighs. I’m startled at my own response. It’s been forever since I’ve felt any kind of desire. It’s definitely what I’m feeling right now, though. There’s a deep throb low in my body, and as his hands glide over my breasts, I get breathless with excitement.
Dakh lowers his head and nuzzles at the juncture of my shoulder and neck. I can feel his breath there, hot and spicy, and when his thumbs drag over my nipples again, he licks at my skin and I feel my pussy throb once more in response. My breasts ache, and I push against his hands when he focuses on toying with the tips, rolling them back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, as if fascinated by their texture. God, I’m positively aching now. His tongue glides up the length of my neck, and I feel him flick it against my ear, and it sends new shivers through my body.
“Sa-cha,” he growls into my ear, and inhales deeply, burying his face against my hair. All the while, his fingers continue to work my nipples, claws dragging against my skin just enough to make me crazy with need.
I’m gasping for breath as he pets me, loving this exquisite torture. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve felt in a long time.
Dakh inhales sharply, interrupting my thoughts. He growls low in his throat again, and then his hands leave my breasts. He pushes me forward onto the blankets, until I’m on my elbows and my cheek presses against the floor. His weight rests atop mine, and I go stiff.
I know what’s coming next. Just like that, the pleasure I’ve been feeling bursts like a soap bubble. The self-loathing returns.
But it must be done. I suppress the sigh that rises in my throat. I won’t enjoy it, but sex isn’t the end of things. I’ll just let him do what he likes and pretend I’m enjoying it half as much. It’s not a big deal. I’ve had worse sex, I’m sure.
At least it’s not Tate, ready to break another limb. That puts things into perspective, for sure. Just thinking about it like that makes me resigned but determined.
It’s all about survival, after all.
13
DAKH
Kael was right—my female wants caresses and soft touches instead of a mating challenge. I have done so, and now her mating perfume fills the air.
I’ve never smelled anything as good as Sa-cha’s mating scent. Thick and musky, I want to bury my face between her thighs and drag my tongue over her until I’ve captured every drop. But the urgency I feel inside me, the need to make her my mate? It won’t wait. I need to claim her as mine now and protect her. Anchor her to me. Give her my fires.
My mate.
Need threatens to overwhelm me, and my cock aches. I feel desperate to bury myself inside my mate. My fangs ache, filling with my fires. Sa-cha’s body is small underneath mine, and when I press her forward so I can mount her, she doesn’t resist. Mine, I think with joy. My mate is at last mine.
She still wears more of her strange skins, and I run my claws over her backside, trying to figure out how to remove them. With a growl of frustration, I rip my claws through the soft material, shredding it until it falls away from her. She gasps, and her fingers clench in the blankets, but she is otherwise still. I cast the destroyed skin aside and then run a hand over my mate’s soft body. Her flanks are pale, and her delicious scent is wafting up to me, making my mouth water with the need to claim her.
I will wait no longer.
I press against her backside, rubbing my length against her heat. She is wet, but not as thick with juices as I had hoped. It is no matter. She will grow wetter when I am inside her. I slick my cock with her desire, and then push into her heat. Sa-cha gasps again, her small body stiff under mine, and then I am lost to the mating heat. I pound into her, letting a cry of pure joy escape me as I bury myself to the hilt inside her. She is so wet and tight, my mate. Nothing has ever felt so good. Nothing.
I cannot help myself. I pull back and plunge deep again, and then again. Over and over, I pump my cock into her tight warmth. My fangs burn with the need to claim her, but I cannot stop driving into her, cannot stop spearing her cunt with my length. Her small body under mine is what I have needed all along, her sweetness given to me.
My body tightens, and I can feel my seed burning in my shaft. I slow down in my driving strokes, pacing myself. Though it is difficult to stop, I must give Sa-cha my fires first or I will burn her. The thought of pulling out and spilling my seed on her back—the drakoni ritual of rejecting her as a mate— It will not happen. She is mine.
Mine alone.
I lean forward, covering her smaller frame with my larger one. She trembles underneath me, and when I grab a handful of her hair and pull her neck to the side, I can hear her breathing, thick and rapid. “Sa-cha,” I murmur, and lick the cords of her delicate throat again.
She shudders underneath me, and when I turn her head to the side, her eyes are closed.
No matter. She is mine. I let my fangs elongate, let the fire surge through them, and then I press my mouth to her skin again. This time, I puncture deep and anchor my teeth into her. My fires pour forth, surging into her body, and she is silent as she takes my fires. There is no noise from my Sa-cha, only her endless trembling. She is brave, my mate. Look at how she accepts my fires now that I have conquered her. No male could ask for a more perfect female.
My fires surge out of me until my jaw aches, and I resist the urge to bite down, because I do not want to hurt my delicate Sa-cha. My heart sings with pleasure at the feel of her underneath me.
This is now mine, I realize. She is safe with me. She is mine. No one can take her, not the ravens, not the buzzards, not another male seeking a mate. Sa-cha belongs to Dakh, now and forever. My spirit is linked with hers.
Even as my fires dry up, the pressure in my cock builds. The need to fill her with my seed grows undeniable, and when my fangs finally retract, I let out a groan of relief. I straighten, adjusting my mate underneath me and spreading her hips wider. She fits perfectly under the palm of my hand, her small bottom pink and arched, her skin bright reddish where my burning flesh has pressed against her own. I watch in fascination as my cock disappears into her sheath when I thrust into her, and I can feel her tight body giving to mine. The time has come. I can give her my seed without hurting her. My next thrust into her is brutal in its intensity, but I cannot stop myself. Over and over again, I pump into my mate, harder and faster, until my body seems as if it is moving of its own volition. Sa-cha, I chant in my mind. Sa-cha. Sa-cha.
My release comes. I feel it rush through my muscles, my hands clamping down on her hips as my growl of pleasure turns into a low roar. With a possessive thrust, I erupt inside her. My seed spills forth, and I cannot stop moving, thrusting into her tight, wet heat until every ounce of my body has been given to her. Her channel is hot and slick with my cum, and I keep pumping into her, keep giving her more until there is nothing left to give.
&nbs
p; Then the strength leaves my body and I collapse. I carefully roll to the side as I do, because I do not wish to harm my mate with my weight. I pull her against me, tucking her against my body so I can keep my cock buried inside her while I recover. I put a possessive arm around her shoulders and hold her tightly, burying my face in her wet hair that smells like flowers and water and Sa-cha.
My mate. Mine.
She is silent, quiet in my arms after our pleasure. I want to lick the wound I have left on her throat with my claiming bite, but I am too tired. Next time, I vow. There is no need for another bite, but I will lick her all over next time.
I like the thought very much. I relax and close my eyes, waiting for my strength to return. I knew that forging the mental link with a mate was exhausting, but I had no idea I’d be so tired. Perhaps it is more difficult with humans.
I breathe in Sa-cha’s scent, pleased to see that it is already changing. Though her skin still feels cooler than mine, I can smell my drakoni scent mingling with her human one. Soon she will have the spicy scent of my claim through her sweet blood, and I am eager to learn it.
I am almost as eager for that as I am for the mental bond. I push my mind at hers, waiting. There is not much there yet, but I feel something growing and changing, as if a light is gradually strengthening somewhere deep within. The ravens are silent in the wake of my mating, and I want to shout with joy over that small change alone.
Sa-cha has fixed my mind. She has saved me.
Meadows, comes a soft thought echoing in my head. Meadows with flowers.
Eh?
14
DAKH
I test the mental connection again, seeking out her mind.
Meadows and flowers, I think. A stream. Some birds chirping. Maybe a picnic and some books, with the sun shining and not a cloud in the sky. Gosh, that would be great. Yeah. A picnic in a meadow. Nothing but peace and quiet and time to read my books. That’s my perfect place.
It is Sa-cha’s thoughts, calm and sweet and pure. I push against our mental bond, wanting more of this. Sasha, I realize as I touch her mind. She is Sasha Kennedy, and she is mine. I delve at her thoughts, exploring and curious about my mate’s inner workings.
A nice big thick book, she muses. I could set a blanket down near a rambling stream and...ow. She shifts slightly in my grip. Stupid arm. It throbs, sending an ache through her body. I hope he’s done with me soon.
Done?
There is no sweetness accompanying that thought, only…resignation. Curious, I lurk in the corners of her mind, waiting.
Against me, Sasha moves, flexing her leg. Her bottom presses against me, and even as I curl my body around hers, I can feel her thoughts. Sticky, she is thinking. And I just bathed. Oh well. Thank goodness that’s over, at least. I’ve had worse. And I’ve survived it, just like I’ve survived in the past.
Thank goodness it is over?
These are not the thoughts of a satisfied mate. I feel an uneasy clench in my gut as she mentally goes over her aches and pains, all made worse from the mating. There is a new rawness deep inside her from my eager mating, and her thoughts are full of how she is going to ache in the morning, not of shared pleasure.
She did not enjoy herself.
Sasha endured my touch. The realization comes as I brush against her thoughts. She did not want to mate with me. She let me enjoy her body because she felt she must. Even though there was a mating scent, she was not eager to mate with me. Even now, I feel a brush of her shame against my thoughts, and I am sick that she feels this way.
My mate does not want me to touch her?
My heart—joyful only moments ago—is filled with shame. How did I misunderstand her signals? Even as sleep overtakes me, I want to fight it. I want to understand my mate. I want her to feel what I feel—not shame. Not disgust with herself. Not self-loathing.
But if she will lie to me with her smiles, how can I trust her not to shield her thoughts from me? How can I trust that she will let me know the truth?
The answer is a simple—but hurtful—one. I must act as if there is no mental link at all.
SASHA
When Dakh is finally asleep, I slide out of his grip and get up from the floor. I’m aching all over, my knees wobbly and weak. I’m wet between my thighs from our mating, and my skin feels feverish and hot. In short, I feel like crap. So I pick up my beach towel and glance over at my dragon captor again.
He sleeps, one clawed hand twitching as if even in his dreams, he’s reaching for me.
I wrap the towel around my body and head to the back of the store, alone. It’s awfully quiet—too quiet. There’s nothing but my thoughts, and I’m not sure I want to be alone with them right now. Then again, I didn’t want to be alone with Dakh, either, so I guess I’m just impossible to please right now. I head for the pool and sink into the waters, not caring that it’s cold and the bubbles are gone.
I just had sex with a dragon.
I’m…not entirely sure how I feel about that. Part of me is kind of relieved that it’s over, because now I don’t have to worry about it anymore. I know what to expect. He’s got a huge dick, he’s a little rough even when he tries to be gentle, and he bites. Really, it could have been much worse. I think of Tate and all the times he made me feel terrible before doing his best to degrade me. I can deal with a slightly rough, biting dragon-man who has decided to claim me.
I’m a little disappointed in Dakh, too. Part of me was hoping he’d realize I was no longer enthusiastic the moment he pushed me down onto the ground, and that he’d stop. That we’d go back to the petting and stroking of my breasts. Because I’d enjoyed that—a lot—and it had surprised me. I thought I hated all sex. Now I realize I like being petted and caressed, but the actual sex act itself is just something to be endured, even with someone different.
I put a hand between my thighs under the water. My pussy’s throbbing, and I feel worn out. My neck throbs, too, and I realize I feel feverish all over—both inside and out. Is that because his cum was hotter than a human man’s cum? I could actually feel it inside me, like a hot splash over my insides. It was the strangest sensation. Maybe I can talk Dakh into wearing a condom, if they even make them dragon-sized. I’ll have to look at the pharmacy. My neck aches, too, and I rub it.
I can’t help but feel a little guilty that I’m back to trading my body for safety. I told myself that I’d never do such a thing, and then I met Tate. Granted, I mostly slept with Tate for a few bites to eat or some money, but being with him also gave me security from the other New Militia jerks. They knew I was Tate’s plaything and didn’t mess with me. And I told myself that if it was just Tate, it’d be different. But now I’ve gone and given myself to a dragon, and I feel a little ashamed.
I’ve always told myself I’d do what I have to do to survive, but sometimes getting my brain on board with the program is a little more difficult. I sink lower into the water, wishing I didn’t feel weird about this. Dakh’s been kind but…
This was never how I pictured my life, to be tossed between one man after another, nothing more than a possession.
Dakh wakes up toward the end of the evening, and I do my best to remain normal around him.
I’ve been busy “improving” my house, trying to keep my mind off of what just happened between us. I blew up an air mattress and redid my bed, so now it’s nice and neat. I’ve found a battery-powered lamp and a few batteries with some juice left in them and have a small bedside lamp so I can read. And I’ve eaten an entire bag of stale chocolate chips, because I figure a girl can treat herself after a day like today. I’m in new pajamas since Dakh shredded my last pair, and my hair’s dry and fluffy. I have a good book in my hands.
I should be happy.
Instead, I’m nervous. Dakh comes over to my bed where I’m curled up, reading, and nuzzles at my hair, inhaling deeply. I give him a polite smile, but inwardly, I’m worried he’s going to want to have sex again. How often do dragons mate, I wonder. Maybe I’ll get lucky an
d it’s only a once-a-month thing. That’d be all right. I think I could endure monthly.
But all he does is rub his nose along my neck and then pads away.
I pick my book up again, but I’m a little weirded out. Is he…leaving me for good? Is he done with me now? I can’t tell if I feel rejected or relieved.
I’m so confused. I read for a moment longer, then put my book down and move to the end of the aisle, peeping to watch him. He’s heading to the front of the store, his stride calm and easy. This is also the first time he’s left my side voluntarily since he nabbed me, and I don’t know what to think.
“All right, Sasha. If he’s leaving you for good, you need a plan B.” I turn back to my bed and sit down, cross-legged. I rub my aching neck, thinking. There are pads of stationary a few aisles down, and I can write out a supply list. I could fill a backpack of things that could be worth money back at Fort Dallas and return there and live like a queen for a short time. Well, as long as no one robbed me, of course. But that would mean going back to Fort Dallas by myself, and I don’t even know that Claudia or Amy are there anymore. I have a few friends left there—like Melina, the local doctor, who’s seen me far more than she should. I could go back and stick with what I know.
Or I could live here alone for a while, like Emma did, and disguise my scent from dragons. I could hold my own and just suck it up in regards to the loneliness.
I could also go and look for Claudia and her dragon. That’s the most dangerous of the three options, because I’d be looking for dragons instead of running away from them, but I also feel obligated to my friend and her sister.
My head hurts because none of those options seem like good ones. I don’t know what to do. Miserable, I curl up in my bed and lie down. My arm hurts, too, the bones aching deep. My hip feels like poop, too. I’m just whiny and miserable. It’s the fever, maybe. I press my hand to my forehead and I feel hot. Ugh.