Veronica’s Dragon: Icehome Book Two

by Dixon, Ruby

  And then…there is nothing else to be done. My khui throbs in my chest, an urgent reminder of why we came out here. I study my mate's face as she gives me a bright, eager smile. She pats the stool next to her, indicating that she wants me to sit down.

  If I sit too close, though…I will not be able to resist her or the call of my khui. And while she might be strong enough to mate right now, I'm not entirely certain she's strong enough to take my fires. I have no idea how that will affect a human.

  "Drink your tea," I tell her. "Then you should rest. Sleep."

  Veronica makes a face at me. "I thought we came here for privacy. For, you know, other things." And her cheeks pink up.

  "We will," I promise her. "But not yet. You need your strength."

  "If you're super concerned about my strength, I'm happy to lie back and let you do all the heavy lifting," she tells me, playfully toying with a lock of her hair.

  Was ever a male tortured so sweetly? "Soon," I say abruptly. And it will be soon. Perhaps not soon enough for my tastes, but Veronica is worth waiting for. I will not put her at risk.

  She looks unhappy at my decision, sighing heavily and drinking her tea in silence. I keep myself busy, working on arranging items in the cave, then I decide I will make my Veronica a spear for herself. It doesn't have to be done tonight, of course, but if I keep my focus on other things, perhaps my khui will listen. So I carve some of the heavy lengths of bone down as the others showed me and work on creating spearheads.

  After a while, Veronica sighs again, then moves toward the bed. "I guess I'll go to sleep."

  I nod, unable to look at her. Now that we are alone together, my need is that much greater…and that much more difficult to ignore.

  She gets into the bed and gazes at me for a long time before eventually turning over and going to sleep. I hate that I have ignored her like this, but I have no choice.

  She needs her rest. She does not need a ravenous beast rutting upon her, not when she is so fragile. And at this point, I would indeed be a ravenous beast. My khui is sapping all the reason from my mind.

  28

  VERONICA

  A gentle hand on my thigh wakes me in the middle of the night. "Mmm?" I roll over, trying to wake up.

  "My mate. I need you too much." Ashtar's voice is low and husky, and I can practically feel the hot throb of his cootie making his chest vibrate. "Lie back and let me lick your cunt so I can taste your sweetness."

  "Oh." I do as he asks, and a moment later, he nuzzles my belly, sending ticklish skitters of arousal through my body. I'm pantsless at this point, so I must have slept through their removal. All I'm wearing now is a tunic, and he easily shoves it up to my waist, revealing my naked lower half. I smile absently in the dark. "I thought you didn't want to fool around."

  "You are not strong enough for my fires," he tells me and then pushes my thighs apart. A second later, he gives my pussy a long, slow lick and groans so loudly it sends a shiver through me. "I need this," he rasps.

  God, I need it, too. My cootie's revved up and I'm so hungry for his touch that I'm aching. "I want you," I tell him.

  "No," he says.

  And that makes me pause. Even as he dives between my thighs to lick me again—the ultimate distraction—I keep thinking about that word. No. No.

  No?

  What the heck?

  I push at him, trying to get his attention. He's ravenous on my pussy, moving over it with greedy strokes of his mouth that make me cry out. "Ashtar, wait. Stop!"

  He lifts his head, his eyes gleaming and flashing between gold and cootie blue. "Stop? Why?"

  "Because we need to talk!" I'm panting and distracted by his mouth and the way he licks his lips, as if he can't get enough of me. God, do I want him between my thighs again. He can make me come in a matter of minutes with just a few fantastic swipes of his tongue and then I forget about everything else. I don't want to forget about what he just said. I'm confused and hurt by his “no.”

  "Talk later. Pleasure now." He lowers his head again.

  I snap my thighs shut and put one hand in his hair, tugging at the thick, wiry mane. "Much as I would love that, I can't. Not until you tell me why you don't want me to touch you."

  "Because it is too much," he tells me thickly, running a possessive hand up and down my thigh. "I can touch you, but letting you touch me is too much for me to bear."

  "Then don't bear it," I exclaim. "I want you, Ashtar. I love you. Let's do this mating thing and make a half-dragon baby. I'm ready. I'm not tired at all. I'm done with waiting and I want you. We're alone, I'm turned on, and you are too. What are we waiting for?"

  He lifts his head again and gives me a troubled look, his eyes fading to black.

  Uh oh.

  "What is it?" There's a hard, awful pain in my heart. "You don't want to be mated to me? Is that it?" I didn't think resonance was something we could fight, but maybe he can? Maybe it's different for every type of alien and he's decided I'm not the one for him. This is awful. I always told myself that I'd be okay if he didn't love me. That I'd understand, but I'm not prepared for this terrible, soul-numbing ache of loss.

  I'm utterly in love with Ashtar and it's killing me that he doesn't want me.

  "It's not that. Never that!"

  "Then what the fuck is it?" I fight back the sob forming in my throat. "I need you to tell me, because I don't think I can stand not knowing. Is it someone else? Are you hurt? Wounded? Do you not want kids?" I gasp, my eyes widening. "Oh my god. You don't want kids? You—"

  "Not that," Ashtar says quickly, and he moves over me, cupping my face even as tears spill from my eyes. "Don't cry, my fires. I hate that I've upset you."

  "Yeah, well, I freaking hate it, too," I tell him tearfully. "Just tell me already."

  He peppers my face with kisses, as if he can't get enough of touching me. His body is on mine, his weight resting atop me, and it feels so good and so right that it makes my need for him physical pain. I'm about to start bawling if he doesn't tell me what the issue is, because I'm terrified I'm going to lose him just as I found him. "I want you. I want your kits. I don't want anyone else. I'm not hurt. It's just…there is something I haven't told you."

  A moan of terror escapes my throat. "You're married? I thought you said you hadn't had a mate before—"

  "Married?"

  "Already mated!"

  "What? No!"

  He looks so repulsed by the thought that I feel a little better. "Okay then," I ask. "What is it?"

  Ashtar groans and presses his forehead to mine. "It is about our mating." When I moan in terror, he continues quickly. "There are things that happen in a drakoni mating that are not…usual."

  "What, like anal?" I'm not sure I'm down with the brown hole, but I love him so much I'm willing to give it a shot.

  "No, I…wait. What is anal?" He tilts his head and looks so curious that I'm torn between laughing and crying.

  "It's sex in the wrong hole. That's not what you meant?"

  He looks shocked. "Humans do that?" Then his eyes flare a deep gold of arousal. "Would you do that with me?"

  "I might. But first you have to tell me what you're freaking out over so I can appropriately freak out, too." Because I'm about to really, really freak out if he doesn't say what it is soon. "Just spit it out already."

  He looks worried and my heart squeezes all over again. Even as he hesitates, he shifts his weight over me, and I open my thighs, locking my legs around his hips. He groans, rocking against me and rubbing his cock—oh god, he's so naked and oh god, it's so good—up and down my wet folds. "Your body is amazing," Ashtar murmurs.

  "You're stalling."

  My big dragon groans and presses his forehead to mine again. "I am. It is because I do not want you to tell me no."

  "Then just tell me what it is!"

  He gazes into my eyes, his thumbs stroking my face. All the while, his hips rock against mine, a delicious friction between us that feels so very right that I want to screa
m with sheer joy. My cootie's purring so hard that my chest feels as if it's an engine. When he strokes forward again, I arch up against him, and the delicious sensations double in intensity.

  It's like we can't help ourselves. Like we have to keep moving and rubbing against each other in the world's most deliciously torturous dry-hump. We've waited so long to have sex that even our bodies don't want to hear excuses.

  "When a drakoni claims his mate," he tells me, his voice a hard rasp as he reaches between us and slicks his cock through my juices. The head of his thick length drags over my clit and I arch up again, a wordless cry escaping me. "He gives her his fires through a bite."

  "Sexy biting," I pant, pushing the tunic up until my breasts are exposed, and his gaze goes there. My nipples are hard and tight, and as he watches, I reach up and tease them, caressing the tips. "You told me that part. I'm down with it. Go on."

  Ashtar's liquid gold gaze is locked on my tits. He's utterly fascinated as I pluck and toy with my aching nipples. Maybe I'm being a tease. Don't care. All I know is that I can't stop any more than he can stop his grinding against my pussy—and that I don't want either of us to stop at all. I'm ready. I'm so ready. "When I claim you, I give you my fires. I can only give it to one female and one female alone in my lifetime. It is the ultimate choice." He caresses my cheek even as he surges against me, sliding his cock through the folds of my soaking pussy. "And when I give you my fires, I give a piece of myself and my spirit."

  "Okay," I tell him, breathless. I'm about ready to come just from this torturous grinding, but I want to hear what else he has to say first. "Does it hurt you?"

  "It is exquisite, I am told." He thrusts up against my pussy again and I bite back a moan. I've never felt anything so good. He hesitates again.

  Here it is. Here's the zinger that destroys my life.

  "A…bond is created between us when you take my fires."

  I rotate my hand in the air, indicating he should get on with it. "And?"

  "Our minds will be linked. Forever."

  "And?"

  Ashtar frowns down at me. "There is no 'and.' That is the problem."

  It doesn't sound all that bad to me. "Explain a bit more about the mind-linking. Like…if I get a headache you get a headache?"

  He shakes his head, his body going still. "It means that if I wish to speak to you, I do not have to use words. I can think it and you will hear it. It also means that anything you think, I can hear as well. My people are telepathic, and when fires are shared, it means that a communication bond is formed between just the two of you as well."

  "Oh." I consider this. On one hand, there'll be no privacy left between us. On the other hand, I'm surprisingly okay with it. Haven't I been adapting to all kinds of changes since I got here? A mental link will be different, but I don't think it'll be bad. Ashtar will always be right there in my head. I'll never be without him again. I kind of like the thought. "So you don't want to share your thoughts with me? Is that it?"

  "I want that more than anything. It will bring us intimacy beyond my wildest dreams." His eyes flare with emotion again. "It has been an intensely long time since I have heard anyone's mental voice and I feel the loss of it. But I would not push you into something you are not comfortable with."

  "I'm comfortable with it," I tell him, wiggling my hips so his cock rubs up and down again. "Let's have sex now."

  Ashtar looks utterly astonished. "You're sure?"

  "I'm ok with you being in my head if you're okay with me being in yours."

  "There is nothing I want more—"

  "Nothing?" I ask, and tease my nipples again.

  He snarls wildly and claims my mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. In the next moment, he grabs me by the hips and flips me onto my stomach. Before I can ask what he's doing, he lifts my butt into the air, pushes my thighs apart, and then surges into me.

  I cry out in surprise and hot pleasure. God, I knew he'd feel good, but I never expected…holy Jesus. I think I'm coming already. He thrusts into me again, fierce and brutal, and I'm so wet that it feels amazing. With his next thrust into me, I know I'm coming, and a whimper escapes my throat.

  "Mine," he tells me, and his voice is laden with such fierce possessiveness that I prickle all over. Our bodies locked, he leans over me again, his back completely covering mine. "My mate," he says, so utterly demanding. His hand knots in my hair and when I tilt my head back, I feel his mouth on my throat. His fangs scrape lightly over my skin before they sink deep.

  I cry out, because the feeling is so intense that it's not all pleasure, not entirely. It's hot and deep and the bite has a painful edge to it, but it doesn't matter because I'm coming anyhow. I shudder, his cock deep inside me and my inner walls clenching around him over and over again. It's so good and at the same time, it's far too much.

  I climax with what feels like the heat of a thousand blazing suns exploding all at once. It's hard and hot and dirty, and as I clench up, I realize Ashtar's fangs are still sunk deep in my neck. He growls low, the sound muffled but clearly one of pleasure, and then liquid heat pulses in my throat. These must be his fires. I do my best to remain still even as I'm still coming, the feeling so intense I feel like something's going to snap. Ashtar pumps into me once more, and then I'm coming all over again, my body squeezing harder and harder as the fire in my throat spreads outward. It's like the scorching heat is flooding through my veins and the rest of my body, setting me aflame even as I come. I'm lost in sensation, the sweet spike of pleasure that's Ashtar finally claiming me, the hum of my cootie, and everything else. It swirls over me, and then I realize too late that I'm sinking away into a very girly faint.

  The last thing I remember is Ashtar gently licking my throat where he's bitten me. Then, nothing.

  29

  ASHTAR

  I remember the best day of my life fondly.

  I had recently been sold to a new master, a connoisseur of fighting slaves. It was an honor to be in his stable, and when an opponent heard you were one of Natu's fighters, it put fear into them. Our fights were always sold-out spectacles. That meant Natu had to be pleased with your performance or you would be cut quickly and sold off to someone else.

  Natu liked me, but he said I needed work. That I was too arrogant and too dependent on my battle form to win matches. My shifts to dragon form should be a surprise in battle, a constant unknown, but that I should focus on real strength and my human form to be just as powerful, as fast, and as strong. He did not want me to be weak in one form and strong in the other or I was useless to him.

  The evening before my biggest match—a fight to the death—he collared me a second time. My first collar was a constant companion, a combination of shock collar to keep me docile and neutralizer that would stop any telepathic communication. It was made of flexipose, which was a metallic-like substance that could shift and bend with the wearer, so even when I switched to battle form, it adjusted with me. The second collar he put on me was a plain iron ring, but I knew what it was for. If I shifted, it wouldn't. If I tried to switch to drakoni form, I'd behead myself.

  For this match, I'd have to do it in two-legged form.

  At the time, I was arrogant. I thought I would have it handled and Natu would be impressed. Once I got into the arena, I realized I'd miscalculated badly. My opponent was half Graxiian, a heavy-gravity people known for rock-hard skin, weighty bones, and a general difficulty to kill. This one was also surprisingly fast despite his bulky form. I remember being shocked by that.

  I also remember thinking ten minutes later, as the fight continued and his fists broke bones and smashed into my limbs, that I was outclassed. My fangs and claws did nothing to him, and neither did my fire. I remember knowing with certainty that I would die that day, but not giving up. If I was going to die, I was going to give the audience a hell of a show. So I did everything I could to outsmart my opponent. I let him tackle me so I could get close enough to blow fire into his vulnerable eyes. I used discarded slave chains from our en
trance into the arena to choke him and trip him. And when my strength was fading, I noticed he had a tell that I would have never seen if I was in battle form. That my half-Graxiian opponent shielded his ankles whenever I attacked.

  I remember the fierce elation at that realization. How it gave me the strength to pick my broken, battered body off of the ground and continue fighting. I attacked his ankles with my claws and discovered soft flesh from an old wound that went deep and tore far too easily. My bulky, fierce opponent toppled forward onto his face—and I flung myself on his back and ground his flat, ugly face into the sands of the arena until the breath choked out of him.

  Then, I stood up over his dead body and flung my arms out, triumphant. The crowd roared so loudly and stomped their feet so wildly I felt as if the entire universe must have heard my triumph. I remember Natu nodding, pleased. I remember the adrenaline and power—and sheer joy—that coursed through me in that moment as the arena screamed my name.

  That was an amazing moment…and yet it is nothing compared to the feeling of possessing my Veronica. Of my cock deep inside her clenching body, my fires flooding through her veins. She has fallen unconscious temporarily, so I lick and nuzzle my bite at her throat, my body seated to the hilt inside her still.

  I wait, feeling the glory of her mind as it slowly opens to mine. It has been so long since I have spoken to anyone with a mind-link that I do not recognize it at first. Her thoughts slowly filter into mine, though, and with it comes intense pleasure. Her sleeping thoughts drift lazily back and forth, thinking of me, of how happy I make her, how much she wants to touch me. What our child will look like.