by Lili Zander
“Enough talk,” I say, even though my heart is bursting. “I believe I was going to undress you.”
Peace falls over me as soon as I slide my hands over her shoulders and down her back. Every cell in my body screams with need. I have to touch her, run my fingers over every inch of her until the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips, her very essence is imprinted into my body and mind.
Zorux and I share a glance over Ryanna’s head. We share the same thoughts, the same stirrings within our very souls. We don’t need the dragon that dwells dormant inside us to speak; we already know. Ryanna is our mate.
We will spend our lives convincing her of that, if we must.
Ryanna:
Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.
I’m lost in a world of hard bodies, sweet kisses, and soft orders.
Thrax sucks my forefinger into his mouth, his eyes shining with the same lust that’s burning through my body. Though my mind is still racing, my thoughts swirling around the conversation we just had, a surge of heat runs through me at his touch.
Zorux leans in to kiss my neck. A shiver wracks my body at the gentle promise of his lips against my tender skin. “I like that reaction,” Zorux growls, his voice possessive. He presses another kiss on my neck, right at that spot that seems to be directly connected to my core, and my knees buckle as a flood of pleasure washes over me.
We get out of the water. The two of them towel me dry, and each stroke of the coarse fabric against my overheated skin seems to stoke the fire inside. I squirm against them, restless and wanting more.
Thrax wraps his hand around my neck and turns me towards him, his mouth kissing a pathway toward my lips. Zorux’s hand closes on my breast, and he squeezes, his thumb grazing my swollen tip.
They like to tease me, but today, I can’t bear it. I need to feel the weight of their bodies over mine. I need to smother them in kisses and feel the hot, tight slide of one of their cocks into me. “Please,” I beg. “Don’t make me wait.”
Thrax’s expression turns amused. “You say that all the time, sweet human,” he teases. “Your planet must be in a constant state of hurry.” He trails his hand over my body, his fingertips circling my aching nipple with a touch so light that I want to scream in frustration. “I want to savor the taste of you. Touch the silky softness of your skin. Hear your soft whimpers when we please you.”
A half-smile on his face, Zorux applies the same teasing touch to my other nipple.
Argh. I can’t decide if I want to kiss them or strangle them.
They run their hands all over me. They cup my breasts, kneading and squeezing and bending their heads down to suck on my nipples, sending shudders of arousal through me. Their fingertips trail over my calves and inch upward.
My legs fall helplessly open for them. Zorux positions himself between them, and my breath catches in anticipation. “The taste of you yesterday just whetted my appetite,” he says. “I can’t wait to feast on you again.” He nips the tender skin of my thighs, then his fingers are on my bare skin, on the soft folds of my pussy, and I am lost.
“Please Zorux,” I whimper as he explores my slit, teasing me, but refusing to touch my clitoris. “Please.”
Mindless with need, I grope for Thrax’s cock, and a deep groan rewards my move. Then Zorux breathes on my pussy. His hands holding my thighs open, he licks at my slit, and when he reaches my clitoris, he sucks it in between his lips.
Oh God. Can someone die from too much oral, too much pleasure?
“The taste of you,” Zorux breathes. He licks me, his strokes long and steady. I’m lost in a haze as Zorux feasts on me.
I can’t hold on; I ache everywhere. I grip Thrax’s cock firmly. My nipples feel like they’re about to burst with sweet heat as Thrax teases them. My muscles start to clench, and Zorux’s tongue dances over my clit, harder and faster.
Then it’s all too much. The dam bursts and I explode, shaking, writhing, flailing helplessly as wave after wave of pleasure washes over my body.
“Now you,” I whisper when I can form words again. Once again, they’ve made me come, giving me pleasure without taking their own. I don’t conceal the arousal in my eyes when I lock my gaze onto them. It’s a little too late for shyness. “I want you in me.”
Thrax positions me so I’m lying on my back. I twist so I can take his steel-hard cock in my mouth. Zorux lifts his body and positions himself at my pussy, and my entire body prickles with anticipation. Yes. Please. Finally.
Not wanting to neglect either of them, I bob my head up and down Thrax’s length. Then Zorux slides his cock into me, and oh-my-God. When I think about my vow of chastity, I want to slap my head. How could I ever think that it was possible to resist this?
Tight heat coils through my body. Zorux thrusts into me, his fingers stroking my tight bundle of nerves. The heat becomes an out-of-control inferno. My hand closes around the base of Thrax’s cock, moving up and down on it. I can’t hope to take his entire length in my mouth—he’s far too big for that—but I do my best, savoring the way he groans with pleasure, his eyes clenched shut.
“Sweet one,” Zorux grunts, his voice hoarse with lust. He grips my thighs as he pounds into me, his pace quicker and more uncontrolled. I bob faster on Thrax’s cock. We’re all so close; I can feel it.
Then the floodgates of pleasure fall open. I convulse around Zorux’s cock, my muscles clenching and quivering. He gasps his own climax. Thrax isn’t too far behind. He comes hard, and I swallow every drop.
One night, when Viola had had too much kunnr wine, she’d told Harper and me in a fit of giggles that Draekon cum was tastier than chocolate. I’d rolled my eyes at her, but Vi? You weren’t lying.
We aren’t done. The Draekons hold nothing back. They do all they can to give me pleasure. Each orgasm feels like a promise, and when we lay together afterward, I am at peace.
Thrax traces a line across my bare chest. His cock is slow to soften. These Draekons are insatiable, but I get the feeling nothing will satisfy them until they claim me as they wish—together.
The thought fills me with longing and with fear.
“What are you thinking of, Ryanna?” Thrax asks.
I blank my face. “You.”
“Mmm.” Sexy Draekon isn’t so easily fooled.
“There is something I wish to say, but I don’t want you to be afraid.”
Easy for him to say. “A-alright.”
“You belong to us,” he says. “I feel it here.” He touches the spot on his chest where the Draekon heart rests. Zorux nods in agreement.
I can’t let myself hope that he’s right. We’re going to find the others soon. Anything might happen. I open my mouth to say these things to them, and Zorux stops my lips with his fingers. “No, Ryanna,” he says quietly. “Do not think. Feel.”
He rests his hand on my chest. I move it to the left with a smile. “Here. My heart is here.”
“And what does it tell you?”
I love you. You woke me up. You made me whole. Without your kindness and understanding, I would have spent the rest of my life, afraid and alone. I lick my lips. “I—”
This time, Thrax stops my mouth. “It’s all right,” he says. “You don’t have to say anything.” He lies back down and opens his arms. I snuggle into him, telling myself to enjoy this moment and not worry about the future.
16
Ryanna:
The next day, we have better luck. We find Container 2 and Container 3. When we make our way back to camp, Raiht’vi shocks me by offering to make dinner. Since I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, I let her do it, bracing myself for burnt meat and charred vegetables. To my surprise, the stew she makes is quite good.
As soon as we’re done eating, the Zorahn scientist gets up to retreat to the caves. I feel bad for her. It’s really obvious that the three of us are sleeping together and she’s the odd one out. “Stay,” I urge her. “You can’t assemble a cloakship in the dark.”
“I can’
t assemble a cloakship at all. The instructions might as well be written in English for all the sense I can make of them.”
“Hey,” I say indignantly, but I’m pleasantly full, and it seems too much trouble to get irritated by the scientist.
“There’s no hurry.” Thrax leans back and stretches his legs. “Once we recover all the containers, we’ll worry about putting it together.”
Thrax’s relaxed attitude doesn’t sit well with Raiht’vi. Her jaw tightens, and I can tell she’s fighting the urge to snap at him. To avoid an all-out war, I hastily change the topic. “Tell me about yourself,” I tell Thrax. “You never talk about your childhood. What was it like?”
He shrugs “I grew up in an orphanage. It was fine.”
Both Zorux and Raiht’vi look up. “But you’re Midborn,” Raiht’vi says in obvious confusion.
“I was lucky,” Thrax replies. “The year I was to be marked, High Emperor Dravex issued the Narm Proclamation.” He turns to me. “For generations, orphans with unknown lineage, like me, were marked as Lowborn. With the Narm decree, Arax’s father ruled that we were to be marked Midborn.”
“I remember that,” Raiht’vi says. “It created quite a controversy.” Her lips twist. “The first thing Lenox did when he assumed power was to reverse the Narm Proclamation.”
“He did what?” Thrax stares at Raiht’vi, outraged.
“It didn’t make him popular,” she says dryly.
Every time the Draekons start talking about politics, my eyes glaze over. “You grew up in an orphanage?” I cut in. I didn’t know my parents, but my grandparents always made me feel loved. I can’t imagine growing up without any family. And yet, Thrax is never gloomy, and he never feels sorry for himself. He’s cheerful all the time.
I gaze at him with new respect.
“I did,” he says easily. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Ryanna. It was good training for life. It taught me to rely on myself.” He’s about to say something else, but his eyes snap to the locator on his lap and his muscles tense.
“What’s the matter?” Zorux asks.
Thrax’s eyes are glued to the locator. “Look at this,” he says. We crowd around the screen, and he points to a dot on the map.
A dot on the map that’s moving at great speed toward the six containers that the other exile batch has already spirited away. A speed that only a flying dragon can achieve.
My mouth goes dry. “They have seven containers,” I whisper. “If none of them are duplicates…”
“Then they have all the parts to build a cloakship.” Raiht’vi’s face is deathly white. Without another word, she gets to her feet and retreats to the cave.
I feel sick. If the unknown exiles leave the prison planet with the other women, we will never see them again.
I jump to my feet, lightheaded with fear. “What should we do?”
Thrax’s face is a mask of frustration. “We can’t do anything,” he replies. “It will take us twelve days to walk there. Our best option is to wait for the others. Arax and Nyx said they’d drop by to check on us every second day.”
I don’t like what he’s saying, but his words make sense. “So we wait until tomorrow.”
Zorux nods. “We should rest,” he says grimly. “Because in the morning…” His voice trails off, but his meaning is clear. In the morning, when Arax and Nyx get here, we will need to track the other exile batch down and rescue the women.
In the morning, we fight.
Our lovemaking that night is frenzied and wild. Even Thrax, normally cheerful and easygoing, has a haunted expression on his face. There’s a sense of desperation with every touch, every caress, and I can’t help thinking that we’re saying goodbye.
Very little can kill a Draekon, but a battle with a batch of their own kind? Thrax and Zorux cannot shift at all. They cannot fight against a Draekon in dragon form, against an enemy that can fly through the skies, raining down fire with every breath.
My blood is icy with panic, and nothing warms me, not even the press of their bodies against mine. My insides melt with every touch, but deep within me, there’s a cold knot of fear that won’t be soothed.
“Ryanna,” Zorux whispers, trying to comfort me. His tongue traces the shell of my ear, and his teeth nip gently at my lobe. “I’ve spent my entire life in fear, sweet one. It is no way to live. Whatever happens tomorrow, we have this moment.” His fingers tease my nipples, and my breath catches despite myself, despite my dread about what will happen in the morning. “No one can take that away from us.”
Thrax gives Zorux a curious look, no doubt wondering what Zorux is afraid of, but when the other man doesn’t elaborate, he turns his attention back to me. “Zorux is right,” he says, parting my folds and thrusting two fingers inside me. “You’re thinking too much.” His lips curl into a familiar smile. “Perhaps a few orgasms will help you relax.”
They know exactly how to pleasure me, to make me beg for more. I come, and come again, my entire body shuddering with the force of my climax, but though I’m limp with pleasure, my mind won’t be quiet.
An hour passes, and then another. On either side of me, Zorux and Thrax are fast asleep, but though I try with all my might to relax, sleep doesn’t come. Things would be much, much better if Thrax and Zorux were able to transform, and I can’t help thinking that their failure to shift into the fearsome beasts is my fault. When Arax and Nyx saw Viola for the first time, they transformed instantly. When they slept with Harper, Vulrux and Dennox were able to become dragons.
A sense of failure trickles through me, filling me until the despair threatens to spill over. It’s my fault; it’s always been my fault. Had I been a better wife—prettier, more submissive, more obedient—Mike would have been happier with me. I drove him to beat me.
The practical part of me knows I’m being ridiculous. My ex-husband hit me because of flaws in his character, not mine. It isn’t my fault that Thrax and Zorux haven’t shifted into dragons either. None of us know what causes the transformation; how can I be responsible for it?
But the practical part of me is drowning under the weight of my fear, and my mind refuses to be calmed.
If you’re going to lie awake, just get up.
As quietly as I can, I grab my knife and tiptoe to the mouth of the cave. It’s a cloudy night, and the light of the moon is obscured. I lean against the wall, shrouded in shadows, and try to relax.
This part of the planet seems a lot nicer than the jungle our spaceship crashed in. It’s cooler and not as humid. There are no swarms of car-sized flying bugs forcing us to stay indoors after dark. I was just trying to distract Viola when I suggested moving here, but it’s not a bad idea, really. Then again, I haven’t seen much wildlife here, just the critters that attacked me in the woods near the stream. The weather might be better, but it’s hardly an ideal location if we’re going to starve.
Outside the cave, I hear a soft, scraping noise. Instantly my hand closes on the hilt of my knife. Be brave, Ryanna.
It’s just Raiht’vi. The scientist emerges from the cave she’s sleeping in and heads in the direction of the stream. There’s something furtive about the way she moves, and my instincts tell me that this isn’t a simple bathroom break.
On impulse, I slip on my sneakers and follow her, keeping a safe distance behind the Zorahn woman. When she reaches the water, she doesn’t head downstream. Instead, she slowly walks along the banks, as if she’s searching for something. I watch her bend and pick up a rock the size of a football, and then she leans against a boulder.
The clouds part and the light of the green moon shines down, illuminating the dark night. I crouch behind some rocks, an innate caution telling me to stay hidden. Raiht’vi has always been an enigma. She keeps to herself and is rarely friendly, but she also saved Harper’s life, and she gave Dennox and Vulrux her food synthesizer. I don’t know what to make of her, to be honest.
As I watch, she pulls out a thin bone knife from beneath her robes. She places her forearm on
the rock in front of her, flexes her bicep and then slices her skin open. I bite back my shriek as blue blood gushes from the wound, dripping on the stone below.
She’s digging into her flesh with the blade. My stomach churns in protest and bile rises in my throat as she pushes the fingers of her non-injured hand into the cut. It reminds me of TV episodes in which doctors pull bullet fragments from flesh before sewing the wounds shut. I couldn’t watch those shows back home, and I find it difficult to watch now.
Nausea threatens to overtake me, but I force myself to keep my eyes on her. This is important.
After a few minutes, Raiht’vi pulls something out from her flesh. I strain forward, trying to see what she’s holding. It’s small, whatever it is, and shimmers in the moonlight. With a grunt of satisfaction, the scientist sets it down on the ground and smashes it with the football-sized rock, breaking it into smithereens. Then she looks right at the spot where I’m hiding. “Come on out, Ryanna. It’s obvious the sleepweed didn’t work on you. I know you’re there.”
My pulse racing, I step out. Sleepweed. No wonder Thrax and Zorux didn’t wake when I left. “You drugged us,” I accuse her, my palms damp with sweat. “Are Thrax and Zorux going to be okay?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course they are. I just needed a little privacy.”
So she could destroy her implant. “What did you just do?” I ask her. Though my insides are quaking with fear, it doesn’t show. My voice is steady. “Was that a communicator? Have you been in touch with your people all along?”
I don’t expect her to answer my questions; why should she? But to my surprise, she does. “It was a locator,” she replies. “A long-range one. I can’t talk to the homeworld, but they know where I am.” Her lips twist bitterly. “They always do.”
Something’s very wrong. I have a premonition of impending disaster. “You said that you couldn’t escape the prison planet.”