by Ruby Dixon
“If you’re sure. I don’t want you to feel like you have to run off,” I hedge.
If she stays, she can listen to you scream with pleasure as I push into you—
I cough, sputtering into my pink lemonade.
Emma reaches over, patting my back. “I’ll be fine. And you’re not running me off. My gas station is safe, and if you don’t mind me grabbing a few things, I’ll be on my way.” She gives another wistful look to the enormous amount of barbecue still roasting.
“Oh, my gosh, of course! Take everything you need. And take as much of the meat as you can carry.” I wiggle my foot out of Dakh’s lap and get to my feet. “Let’s get it wrapped up and get you taken care of, okay?”
I hurry back to the entrance of the store with her. Dakh is silent, and I can’t help but glance back at him to see what he’s thinking. There’s an amused half-smile on his face, but his eyes are glowing bright gold, so hot I can practically feel them scorching me where I stand.
Do not think you can run from me, little mate. Dragons love to chase. And when I catch you, I intend to hold you down and lick you until I’ve had my fill.
I shiver, my body covered with goosebumps at the mental image. Not only because it’s an erotic one, but because I know he’s going to be able to see it in my head and know what I’m thinking. That makes things twice as bad—and twice as titillating.
A short time later, Emma has a shopping cart full of essentials, plastic containers full of as much meat as she can possibly eat before it spoils, and some fresh clothes and blankets. The perfumes are carefully bundled up—she’s got several bottles of the smelliest kinds and left some of the others for an “emergency” supply back on the shelf.
I’m a little sad to see her go, but at the same time, I’m practically crawling out of my skin with anticipation of Dakh touching me. “You sure you’ll be okay?” I ask for what feels like the hundredth time. “I hate to send you off.”
“You’re not. I’m fine. I’m used to being on my own.” Her smile grows wider. “I really appreciate everything though. This was…nice. It made me realize it’s been a long time since I’ve had friends.”
“I lost mine recently, so it’s good to see another female face around. Please say you’ll come by again, all right? I’d love to hang out some more, even if it’s just for you to grab some more supplies. There’s plenty for both of us. And Dakh can hunt if you need meat. You just have to ask, all right?”
Emma nods. “I will. Thanks again, Sasha. I appreciate it. And tell Dakh thank you, too.” She nods at the dragon, who’s still seated at the table back by the food, watching us. “He’s kind of weird, but I can see that he cares for you.”
“He does,” I agree softly. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Oh, I’m not saying I understand,” she teases. “But he’s got a certain appeal to him.”
I laugh. “Well, like I said, feel free to come by anytime.”
“I might, but I’m probably going to leave a note to announce my visits a few hours ahead of time. Wouldn’t want to walk in on anything.” She winks at me and turns the cart onto the old, torn-up service road to the highway. “See you later, Sasha.”
I can feel myself blushing. “Bye, Emma. Talk to you soon.” I guess we were obvious.
Maybe she could smell your arousal like I can.
She cannot, I tell him firmly. Don’t even say such things.
It is a potent scent, Dakh tells me. I would bathe myself in it if I could.
And there’s a mental image I’m going to never be able to get out of my head. Thanks for that.
You make noises that you do not like my attentions, but I know you do. I am in your head, remember?
I never said I didn’t like them! You just startle me. I’m not used to someone picking through all of my thoughts. It’s a little unsettling. Makes me feel naked.
I enjoy when you are naked.
Somehow I knew that was coming. But I can’t help but laugh. Even if his jokes make me feel squirmy and make me blush, I like them. It’s fun to tease and to feel light and carefree once more. I didn’t realize how…beat down and old I felt back in Fort Dallas. Back then, I was just existing.
Now I feel alive.
29
SASHA
The moment Emma disappears down the road, Dakh’s thoughts flood through my mind, full of lust and promise. He’s been patient long enough.
And really, so have I. I know my panties are soaked from the play between us, even if it was all mental. I know just thinking about what’s coming up makes me prickle with awareness and my pulse starts to race. I don’t even have to turn around to show Dakh how turned on I am at the moment.
He knows. He knows because he’s in my thoughts, and because I can feel his, too. The way he hungers to touch me. The stream of images of how he plans on touching me. The need that batters at his willpower. He’s been fighting hard against his desire to drag me to his side and pull me against him, under him.
But now there’s no need to fight it.
No sooner do I think that than Dakh grabs me by the waist and swings me into his arms. He’s mindful of my sling as he tucks me against his chest, striding for the table. He sets me down on the edge of it and then sweeps the paper plates and empty cups off to the side, making a mess.
“What are we doing?” I ask, breathless.
I am going to taste my mate, just like I have wanted. His eyes gleam bright gold at the thought, lighter than his bronzed skin.
“Right here?” Nervousness is in my voice, but so is need. There’s something outrageous about the thought of having sex outside, even if there’s nobody around but us. A dragon could fly overhead and see us. Emma could return. Nomads could be hiding in the distant trees. All of these things are unlikely but add an edge to the hunger I feel. I’m both appalled and aroused at the thought.
Is this not where I would taste my mate? Here on this table? You made such sweet sounds as you licked your fingers. Now it is my turn.
“You’re going to lick my fingers?” I tease, even as he cradles my head and tilts me back on the flat, wobbly surface of the patio table.
No. It is my turn to do the licking. I am going to lick you everywhere. I hunger for you, my sweet Sasha. And I will have you. He tugs at the long skirt of my sundress, his claws flexing. He thinks for a moment, and then remembers that I don’t like for my clothing to be ripped, and pushes it up, past my knees. A moment later, his head disappears under the bright floral skirt.
I give a surprised little squeal at the feel of his hot skin brushing against my inner thigh. A moment later, I feel his nose press against the crotch of my panties, feel his teeth and tongue press against the material. I hate these, he tells me, thoughts full of my scent and my arousal. They block me from my favorite part of you.
I moan, squirming at that strangely erotic touch.
His claws gently move against my skin, and then I feel him push aside my panties. In the next moment, his tongue drags over my sensitive folds, and a cry rips from my throat.
Hush, or you will bring your human friend back here, wondering what terrible things the drakoni warrior is doing to her.
Drakoni…warrior? That sounds badass and yet sexy. “Is that what you are?”
Your drakoni warrior, he tells me between fierce licks of my pussy. A male eager to claim his mate.
Just hearing that fierce, possessive growl in my thoughts makes me even wetter, and I squirm as his tongue lashes over my sensitive folds, dragging back and forth. He’s not focusing on any one particular spot, which is both deliciously teasing and aggravating at once. I want him to push a finger inside me. I want him to suck on my clit. I want all kinds of filthy, dirty things from him and he’s taking his sweet time.
Impatient, he chides as he gives me another slow, torturous lick. I thought you wanted to wait?
“Changed my mind,” I pant, pushing my hips up against his mouth.
Shall we go inside? You do not like the table,
I think. He starts to raise his head.
I put a hand on his thick, wild hair and hold him there. “No! Stay there.” I’m panting with need. “Don’t you dare move.”
His thoughts rumble with amusement, and then he gives me another deliciously slow lick. I think I like it when my mate is demanding. What would you like for me to do, my fire? His tongue drags over my clit. Taste you here? He licks lower. Or here? Even lower, and his tongue rasps against my core, then penetrates me. Or here?
I give a little whine, because it’s not fair that I have to pick. I want all of it. Did I feel weird about being on the table before? Right now Emma could show up again and I would make her wait until I was done with Dakh. I need this. I didn’t realize how badly I needed it until he touched me. I’m wild with arousal, and it’s like the fire he calls me is licking through my veins. “Tongue,” I rasp between panting breaths. “Clit.”
His mouth immediately descends on my clit, tongue stroking over it in the way that drives me absolutely crazy.
I whimper, tugging at my skirts because my view is blocked. It’s both exciting and frustrating to not be able to see what he’s doing. He’s making me utterly crazy, and as a result, I’m getting closer and closer to the orgasm I so desperately need.
Of course, the moment I start to think about it, it begins to slide out of my grasp. It’s like being aware that I’m having pleasure means my brain needs to sabotage me, to turn me back into the Old Sasha, who didn’t enjoy sex. The rasp of Dakh’s tongue against my clit becomes too sensitive, and this time, when I squirm, it’s to get away. “Dakh, wait—”
Do not think, my mate.
“Oh, easy for you to say!”
Just enjoy. Do not think about the past. Think about me here, with my mouth on you, giving you pleasure. Relax. His thoughts are a soothing balm over my own increasingly worried ones. Let me be in charge. Let me control your pleasure. Nothing is required of you except to lie back and let me touch you.
My nipples get hard at the thought, and I moan breathlessly. There’s something so erotic about being completely out of control of the situation. It’s like as long as he’s in charge, I have permission to let my body react any way I like, and how can I not like the wet, insistent rasp of his tongue against my clit?
That is right. Let me pleasure you.
A moment later, I feel something large and insistent press against my core. I gasp when it penetrates me shallowly, because that small touch amplifies everything I’m feeling. “Oh God…what-what are you doing?”
I can feel him nuzzle my clit with his lips, and I nearly come off the table. I am giving you what you wanted—I am giving you everything.
“Not the claws, I hope,” I breathe, thinking of the deadly, talon-like claws tipping his fingers.
Never. He sends me a visual of his knuckle as he pushes it into me, and that mental image is incredibly erotic. I moan again, and when he pushes into me once more, it starts to send me into overload.
Give yourself to it, Dakh encourages, sending a flurry of erotic thoughts through my mind. Claim your release. He thrusts into me again, even as his mouth continues to work my clit.
It’s too much. With a small cry, my muscles tense, and I come. It’s a small orgasm, but it feels fantastic. Waves of bliss rush over me, and I lose myself to the sensation, the feel of my body clenching with the burst of pleasure. So good.
From under my skirts, Dakh pushes his head up, and then I see his face. His mouth is gleaming, wet from my juices, and he’s so gorgeous, his eyes a vivid gold with emotion. He presses a kiss to my knee and then gives me another heated look. Turn over so I can claim you right here.
I wiggle on the hard table. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea with my bad arm. I might hurt things more.”
His sexy expression immediately changes, and he helps me up. Are you in pain? Did I harm you?
“No, I mean, not right now.” I chuckle, feeling sated and toe-curlingly good. “I just mean that this is probably the wrong place to finish things. We can go inside to our bed,” I say shyly. It feels strange to be the one encouraging a man. I could probably push him away at this point—I’ve had an orgasm, after all. I’m good. Thing is, I don’t want to. I want him to come, too. I want to see his pleasure. I want Dakh to lose control.
A smile dawns across his face, and he looks so heart-stoppingly sexy that my toes curl again. Whatever my mate wants.
“I want you,” I tell him, and extend a hand so he can help me sit up.
Instead of taking my hand, he gathers me in his arms, carrying me inside. I feel a little guilty about the mess outside, but I figure what the raccoons and coyotes don’t get to, I’ll clean up in the morning. For now, I just want to be with Dakh.
You must tell me if I hurt you at any time, he insists as he carries me through the store. I am much stronger than you, and I do not want to harm you thoughtlessly.
“You’ve never hurt me,” I reassure him. No one’s ever been so careful with my safety.
It is because you are the most precious thing in my world, he tells me. Without you, I am lost. Without you, I am alone. With you, I am whole.
My eyes blur, because it might be the nicest thing I’ve ever heard. And it encapsulates how I feel about him, too. I know it’s fast, and I know he’s the enemy.
I just…don’t know that I care anymore. With Dakh, I’m safe and protected and happy. With Dakh, I never feel like I’m not enough for someone. That I’m a problem or a burden or forgotten. I feel like I belong. Like I matter.
I might be addicted to my dragon. I’m okay with that.
I put my good arm around his neck as he gently lays me down into the swirl of blankets that serves as our makeshift bed.
Comfortable? He nuzzles my neck.
“Yes, thank you.” I smile up at him.
Take your clothes off and turn over then, my mate. His eyes gleam with promise.
I caress his strong, square jaw. “I’ll undress, but this time, why don’t we have sex face to face? Not that I don’t like it the other way. I just think it would be nice to have you on top of me.”
He looks surprised at my suggestion. Do humans mate in such a way?
“Um, yeah? Do…” I struggle to think of the word he used earlier, “drakoni not do such things?”
Our matings tend to be quick and brutal. I have always taken a female from behind.
Great, and now I’m feeling jealous, wondering how many drakoni women he’s had sex with. “I see.”
He leans in and presses his mouth against my neck. I do not remember. I do not remember anything about them. Not their faces, not their bodies, not their scents. They were nothing. I remember no female before you.
And that makes me feel a little better. I rub my fingertips along his jaw, tracing the lines of it. “Then let’s stay face to face this time. I like the idea of being able to watch you as you come.”
If it pleases you, we shall try it. He rubs his nose against mine and then claims my mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue flicking against mine. There’s a slight musky taste to his mouth, and I realize I’m tasting…myself. Strange.
You taste remarkable, he tells me. There is nothing strange about it.
I give him another kiss and then tug at my dress. “Help me undress? I want to feel your skin against mine.”
He pulls at my dress, and between the two of us, we manage to wriggle it off of my body, and then my bra and panties. After a moment’s consideration, I replace my makeshift sling back over my neck. I don’t want to harm my arm more than it’s already hurt. “I’m ready for this to heal up,” I grumble as it twinges painfully.
Humans take a long time to heal, even with my fire in your blood. How long until it gets better?
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe another month? It’s my first broken arm.” I grimace. “And I’m just as ready as you for it to get better. It’s annoying to not be able to use both arms.”
I do not care about annoying. I care about you hu
rting. He caresses my shoulder with a frown. I do not like the thought of you in pain.
“I’m fine,” I tell him softly. “I promise.” I lie back in the bedding and trail my fingers down his long, hard abdomen and then brush them over the head of his cock, outlined by the too-tight sweatpants he’s wearing. “I don’t like for you to be hurting, either. And it seems like this must ache, just a little, hmm?”
It aches to be inside you, he tells me. And it aches to be out of these ridiculous skins.
I chuckle at that. “It’s clothing, not skins. It’s made from plants.”
It is useless. He drags his claws through the material, shredding it in his haste to remove it. No drakoni worth his paint would wear such a thing.
Worth his paint? I file that note away to ask about later. For now, I’m too fascinated with watching Dakh claw his way through the material, revealing bronze skin underneath, the dapple of the scale pattern practically undulating over the six-pack on his flat belly. I am a lucky, lucky girl, I decide, because I get to touch this. I let my hand slide lower, caressing the slick head of his cock, dragging my fingertips through the pre-cum there. I get to touch all of this.
He groans low in his throat, and then his big body pushes over me. I part my thighs, inviting him to rest against the cradle of my hips, and he glances down between us, as if studying how our bodies fit together. He takes his cock in his hand and drags the head of it up and down my slick folds, wetting it. I catch my breath, surprised again at how good that feels. How good everything feels with him.
Dakh fits the head of his cock against my core, and then he pushes forward, penetrating me.
I gasp at the sensation—he’s thick and broad, and even though I’m wet and ready for him, it’s still a breathtaking thing to feel. I reach for him, stroking my hand up and down his arm as he slowly feeds his cock into my body, his gaze riveted to where we are joined. He watches as he pushes into me, and then when he’s seated fully, leans in over me, his chest pressing to mine, and gives me a light kiss.