The Dragon's Christmas Wish

by Georgette St. Clair

  He dipped his head again and firmly, sweetly, he licked her lower lip, an agonizing promise of not yet…but soon.

  Then he slowly pulled away and opened the door and walked inside.

  The suites at the Suisse Chalet had the same alpine aesthetic as the restaurant itself, but here it was even more obvious that the décor had been chosen for luxury as well as charm. Rustic-looking cabinets opened to reveal a top-of-the-range holoscreen and an absurdly well-stocked minibar. The wine list even included vintages from Terra 1, back when it had still been possible to grow anything on humanity’s home planet. The prices made Liza blanch, and she hastily stuffed the list back in the minibar and closed the door. The enormous bed, its posts of elaborately carved blond wood, was as soft and deep as a cloud. She shivered, reluctantly deciding that it would be bad form to crawl underneath the hand-sewn patchwork quilt – wet, muddy shoes and all.

  Jaspar said something else incomprehensible, hurried into the bathroom, and came out with a towel.

  He began toweling her snow-soaked hair, while speaking to her in his own language.

  She looked up at him. “Can you still not understand me? Good. I really, really want to have sex with you. For days. Forever. But I have no idea what my future holds, and also I’m still afraid to trust you.”

  Jaspar answered her with more gibberish and stroked the side of her face gently with his hand. Arousal washed over her in a red-hot wave, and she stifled a whimper.

  “Furthermore, when you touch me, it’s all I can do not to jump on you and wrap my legs around you,” she said, staring up into his eyes. “Thank God you can’t understand me. I’d die of humiliation.”

  Jaspar swept her up in his arms, eyes burning with desire, and carried her to the enormous bed. And after that, they didn’t need any words.

  Chapter Eight

  He laid her down in the center of the mattress, and she sank gratefully into its soft warmth. Jaspar slipped off her shoes, then peeled off her socks, chafing her cold feet between his hands to warm them. She almost laughed at the tenderness of the gesture coming from this huge, fearsome warrior, but the laughter died on her lips as she looked at him and saw the steady intensity with which he regarded her and the deft, sure way his fingers moved as he began to unfasten the rest of her clothes.

  She moved to help him, but he shook his head and said something in his own language. To her ears, it was just so many nonsense syllables strung together, but his meaning could not have been clearer – he was the one in charge of this encounter. The thought sent a thrill of excitement shuddering through her.

  Perhaps Jaspar mistook it for a shiver, because he stepped away from the bed and quickly discarded his leggings and tunic, returning to draw her against the heat of his big, muscular body. He stroked her damp hair where it was fanned across the pillows.

  Then he slid his large hand beneath her back and pulled her hard against him, forcing a gentle arch to her back so her breasts were pressed against his muscular chest. Her nipples were pebbled points of intense arousal, and the insides of her thighs were already sticky with the juices seeping from her core. Her breath hitched at the dominance he was projecting – a kind of primal strength that made her feel safe and protected and profoundly turned on.

  She watched the shape of his lips as he spoke to her, and though she didn’t know the language, she knew that he’d said the words “heart-mate”.

  Then he bent his head and kissed her. His tongue explored her mouth with strong, sure strokes that sent sweet electrical shivers darting through her body. She wriggled restlessly against him, and he palmed her breast, then ran his hand down the length of her body, following each curve and valley. His skin was fever-hot against hers.

  He slid his palm from her hip across her belly, then down, and she moaned low in her throat as he petted the soft curls of hair between her thighs. Then his fingers were exploring the slick, sensitive flesh of her core, and she could do little more than cling to him as she was rocked by surges of aching want.

  Jaspar slid his finger into her channel, curling it as he withdrew again to find her G-spot. She gave a gasp of arousal and parted her thighs further, and as he pushed his finger inside her again, he flicked and circled her clit with his thumb.

  Stars and lights seemed to swirl in her belly as the sensation between her legs swelled in intensity until she was digging her fingers into his broad back and gasping sounds of encouragement that would probably have been nonsense even if the translator had been working.

  Liza’s legs shook as her orgasm approached, and Jaspar pulled away from kissing her throat and breasts to look down into her face as the bliss took her. His eyes gleamed with primal satisfaction, his expression one of fierce pride and possession as she came apart in his arms, crying out over and over again.

  She spiraled back to earth, gasping with pleasure, but Jaspar was relentless. He spread her legs with his palms and settled between her thighs, holding himself above her on one arm so he wouldn’t crush her with his weight. He wrapped the other hand around his erect cock, which was impressively long and thick and already pearled with pre-cum at the tip.

  Liza bit her lip and groaned as he fitted the head of his dick to her still-pulsing entrance, working it against the slick slit until he was lubricated with her juices and she was all but begging to have him inside her.

  His breathing was labored, and he gritted his teeth as he pushed into her with torturous control. He was thick and hot, and the slide and stretch of him against her most intimate flesh made her clench around him and cry out.

  When he was all the way inside her, their bodies pressed together, he rested his damp forehead against her and once again said the words she knew translated as “heart-mate”. She shuddered with desire at the sound of his voice, which left no doubt that she was his.

  As he began to move inside her, she ran her palms down his back, feeling the smooth pump of muscle under skin as he thrust. She squeezed his taut, flexing buttocks, and explored the sweat-damp ridge of his spine.

  Jaspar groaned and slid his hands beneath her ass, opening her up further to him so he could thrust harder and deeper inside her. He filled her completely, pushing her to an edge of pleasure that seemed impossibly acute until the tension shattered and wave after wave of blissful shuddering washed through her.

  As she clenched around him, breathlessly gasping her pleasure, Jaspar’s thrusts became faster and more urgent. His brows drew together and his lips parted, a staccato groan escaping him with each slick plunge into her body.

  Then, as she clung to him and cried out with pleasure, he gave a long, hoarse shout of release, pounding into her again and again as he came until they were clinging together, sweat-sodden and breathless, bodies singing from the intensity of their lovemaking.

  Chapter Nine

  Liza sat up, yawning and stretching. Jaspar had apparently already woken up and showered; he was dressed and sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating bacon and eggs.

  Sun was pouring through the window, bathing him in golden light. The blizzard seemed to have abated.

  “Morning, my heart-mate,” Jaspar said.

  Liza stood up and pulled on a silk robe that hung on a hook on the wall. “The translator is working again,” she said, shaking her head in confusion. “And the weather machine is working too.”

  “We are most fortunate. I assume that you are no longer denying that we are meant to be together. Room service brought us breakfast. Shall I pour you some coffee?”

  “Well, there is something to be said for a man who has coffee waiting for me first thing in the morning,” Liza said. She walked over to the table and sat down as Jaspar handed her a cup. She took a sip and smiled. “Ooh, and you put milk and sugar in it. Just the way I like it. This might be the deciding factor, actually.”

  “Really?” Jaspar looked interested. “I will immediately have a coffee bean plantation planted near our house on Arcadia. I will also build a coffee shop which will serve baked goods
. Humans seem to like those.”

  “Wow, you do go all out, don’t you?” Liza took another healthy swig of coffee.

  Jaspar shifted in the chair, which creaked under his size and weight. “Wait until you see the wedding,” he said. “Traditionally, the dress is encrusted with jewels and there is a fifty-foot train carried by your attendant. The bride of the Regis wears a tiara. The feast lasts for five days. The bride and the bridegroom stay in the…the word doesn’t translate, but basically a honeymoon hut. They come out whenever they choose, to take part in the feast, and then return to their hut for days and days of passionate love-making.”

  “Good. Lord. You probably should have opened with all that. Especially the part about the honeymoon hut.” Liza took a huge bite of cheesy omelet and realized she was actually considering Jaspar’s proposal.

  Was Jaspar right? Did a Drakken know their “heart-mate” on sight? Was it so far-fetched? Some humans believed in the concept of love at first sight.

  Her body and her emotions reacted to him in a way she’d never experienced before. She’d been instinctively attracted to him from the second she’d first seen him. And now that she knew he really wasn’t responsible for destroying their colony…she couldn’t think of a single thing wrong with him. Sexy, amazing in bed, protective, handsome, treated her family well, overindulged the Srilaa…

  “A thousand pounds of gold for your thoughts,” Jaspar said, refilling her coffee.

  And he refilled her coffee! What was there not to love about him?

  “Actually, the expression goes ‘a penny for your thoughts’.”

  “But I am sure that yours are worth much more than that.” He winked at her and went back to devouring his bacon.

  “Damn. You really are charming.” She shook her head, stifling a smile.

  “Told you.”

  “I’m thinking that I would love some time to get to know you better before I commit to being your wife, because this is all very new to me. I’m also thinking that last night was incredible, this morning is lovely, and I could imagine doing this every day for the rest of my life. But I need to move a little more slowly.”

  Yikes. Had she really just said that? To a man she barely knew?

  “And,” she said hastily, “I’m also thinking that I need to take a really quick shower and we need to head back. It’s going to be busy again today, and I should help my grandparents.”

  She hurried to the bathroom.

  “I accept your proposal!” Jaspar called after her as she shut the door.

  The bathroom had a television panel in the wall. The newsvid was running as she showered, and it reported that the Weather Control Station had malfunctioned the previous evening, but was now working again.

  Jaspar shifted and flew them back to the bed and breakfast that morning.

  When they arrived, she was relieved to see that her family was too busy serving customers to come over and query her about the previous night.

  La La ran over and hugged her leg. “Sriii, sriii, sriii!” she cried.

  “I sort of missed you too,” Liza admitted, patting her head.

  La La held her paw out expectantly. Oops. Liza had forgotten to bring anything back for her.

  Jaspar, however, had not. “Here you go,” he said to Liza, handing her a bag of peppermints that he’d apparently purchased at the hotel. Then he blew Liza a kiss and walked into the bed and breakfast.

  “Man, he thinks of everything,” Liza said, shaking her head in amazement. Before she could open the bag and take out a few candies, La La grabbed the whole bag and ran for her life.

  Liza chased her for a few minutes, but La La ran and hid behind a crowd of children, then leaned out and stuck out her tongue at her.

  “I know where you sleep!” Liza yelled at La La.

  Marjan, who was at the candy booth selling peppermint candy to customers, waved her over. “Scaly Satan didn’t try anything inappropriate, did he?” she asked in a low voice so the customers wouldn’t hear. She scowled fiercely as she said it, and her claws sliced out of her fingertips.

  “You’re a good friend. No, he didn’t…er…try,” Liza said, turning away quickly so Marjan wouldn’t see her blush. Scaly Satan hadn’t tried anything inappropriate, he had succeeded. “I’d better go help with the Santabot line,” she added, and hurried off.

  * * * * *

  The next few days were a blur of work, as Liza helped her family serve a steady stream of customers.

  Liza slept in the bed and breakfast at night…in her own room. She regretfully told Jaspar that she couldn’t spend the night with him while her family was around, and Jaspar had agreed with her. He spent his days with his family, doing recon missions to keep an eye on the Harbingers, and at night he ate dinner with her family and charmed the daylights out of them.

  Marjan remained suspicious and unconvinced, no matter how nice Jaspar was to her, but it only seemed to amuse him.

  At the end of the week, her family invited Jaspar and his family to go into town to watch the Christmas carolers.

  Everybody was crowded around the town square under the clear night sky. The carolers were there every night in December.

  The cobbled town square was festooned with lights. Far North’s mechanical moon was drifting slowly across the sky, the Santabot’s sleigh with its eight robot reindeer silhouetted against the silvery orb. The air was full of happy laughter and the excited squeals of little children. Tourists and colonists alike warmed their mittened hands on cups of mulled wine or hot chocolate with cinnamon sticks. The biggest tree from the last untainted stand – a gorgeous Douglas fir – stood in the center of the square, hung with delicate glass ornaments that sparkled in the light. Beneath it were dozens and dozens of gaily wrapped presents, which would be distributed to needy off-world children by Barbara’s postal drones.

  There were hundreds of people there, both alien and humanoid. The carolers stood up on a stage, dressed in garb from Victorian England. The women wore lace-trimmed bonnets, capelets and enormous bell-shaped plaid skirts. The men wore black top hats and tails, and plaid waistcoats that matched the women’s skirts. They sang from their song books in voices of clear, ringing sweetness.

  “Your brother is standing too close to my human friend, and furthermore, I don’t like the way he is looking at her,” Marjan said to Korl. “I know what that look means.”

  “Oh? And what does it mean?” Korl asked.

  “It is the exact look that my kind give to their prey, immediately before we pounce on them and eat them,” Marjan said.

  Korl looked at her, and his lips twitched as if he were struggling not to laugh. Finally he hid it by coughing into his hand. “You are not wrong,” he said.

  “You find me amusing?” Marjan hissed.

  “Truthfully, yes,” Korl said.

  “You would not find me amusing if you met me on the field of battle,” Marjan assured him.

  “I am sure that you are correct,” Korl said. “I would admire your form and skill, right before I was regretfully forced to reduce you to cinders.”

  Marjan snorted. “You assume that I would be foolish enough to let you get that close. I would not have been that stupid even as a kit. But I assure you that I would take at least a full nanosecond to contemplate your glorious overconfidence and the beauty of your scaly hide before I ambushed and killed you, skinned you, and made you into a pair of thigh-high boots.”

  “Thigh high?” Korl’s eyebrows shot up, and he flushed an odd shade of red. Almost as if he were…blushing? “I have not seen this type of boots that you describe. They would reach your…thighs?”

  Marjan let out a low, threatening hiss. Before she could say anything else, Liza hurried over to her, linked her arm through hers, and drew her away.

  “Stop toying with your prey,” Liza said. “Come sing some carols.”

  “That puny creature is not worthy of being called prey,” Marjan scoffed.

  Liza glanced at him. Nobody but Marjan would
call him puny.

  “But I am telling you, I sense that he is dangerous. My race has developed a psychic ability to know when an enemy is nearby. Please be careful.” She glanced at Jaspar, who was standing with several other clan members, watching the carolers with fascination.

  And then she joined Liza in singing Good King Wenceslas.

  Roger was standing at the edge of the crowd, Liza saw. He was by himself, as usual. He wasn’t particularly popular. He had cuts and bruises and scrapes on his face from where Jaspar had thrown him into the bushes. Served him right.

  Roger caught Liza’s gaze and glared at her. Liza looked away. Roger was the one thing she would not miss if – when – she had to move off the Christmas Colony.

  Feeling his gaze boring into her, she turned and walked away, and bumped into Barbara, who was also by herself. That was unusual; Barbara always had her children with her.

  “Hey, Barbara, where’s the family? They’re not still working, are they?”

  “They’ve all come down with a cold,” Barbara said with a frown. She looked a little pale, and she had circles under her eyes. Liza felt a twinge of sympathy. This was the worst time of year for her husband and kids to be sick; they would all be working twenty hours a day at the post office. This night of caroling was the one night that Barbara always took off.

  “Do you need some Cure-All?” Liza asked. “I’m sure we can rustle some up.”

  “Oh, no thank you,” Barbara said. “They took some just a little while ago, and they’re just resting up. I’m sure they’ll be fine tomorrow.”

  Cure-All normally cured the common cold within an hour or two. Liza hoped they weren’t sick with anything more serious. What was there left that Cure-All couldn’t fix? She couldn’t think of anything.

  Oh well, if Barbara’s family was seriously ill, she would see to it that an off-world medic was called in.

  The crowd started murmuring and pointing.

  Liza followed their gaze, and saw a group of shifters who could only be Harbingers walking around. Up until now, she hadn’t seen them in town at all. They weren’t known for having much in the way of Christmas spirit.