Sweat beaded on Tsang's brow and his body. All the cold had left him, and he was once again a creature of heat.
And his eyes! Flames glowed in them. A spark of jealousy flared in her heart. He could change, take his true form, and she couldn't. He didn't know he'd mated with a dragon that couldn't change.
"I can't change, Tsang." She let the truth slip out, almost instantly wishing she'd kept quiet.
"Of course you can." His gentle voice calmed her, but she knew he didn't understand.
"No, it's been too long. I've…forgotten how." She turned away from him, ashamed. Her search to be human had ruined her for the one she had been destined to belong to.
He never stopped stroking her clit, never stopped hitting that place deep inside her, urging her body to let go. Tsang leaned down, capturing one of her breasts in his mouth. Sweet suction pulled on her nipple and it shot all the way down her body to her core, and she flew higher. He laved and nipped the hard point, circled his tongue around her areola, teasing her orgasm out of her.
"Come for me, Wintertail. Show me your dragon."
"I can't," she cried. "I can't change. I don't remember how." She beat her fists against his chest, but he never stopped pushing her over the cliff's edge.
"Don't think about it. Just do it." He tried to guide her, help her, and she felt completely lacking. She wasn't good enough for him, but he was there, kissing her, capturing her mouth, sinking his tongue inside, tangling with hers as he tasted her.
"Can't!" She clawed at him, her long nails raking his back. He never winced, never cried out at whatever pain she'd dealt him.
"Your eyes, Wintertail. I see ice in your eyes," he whispered. "I see the dragon inside you. Let it out."
Mattie tensed, all her muscles contracting down to the one spot in her body that triggered her orgasm. If felt as if it would go on forever, that she'd never explode, never throw herself over the edge.
She sobbed, her claws digging into his flesh, unable to stop herself. If he could see the dragon, maybe, just maybe…
"Flamespeaker," she shouted as the wave broke over her. She came, and her body rippled as the change took over, completing her, leaving her in her true form.
She was a dragon again! At last! She roared and whipped her tail back in forth in joy.
Above her, Flamespeaker, in all his dragon glory, looked down at her. He nuzzled her with his muzzle, large nostrils blowing smoke, while the golden colors of his scales captured all the meager light in the room and shone like spun gold.
"You're so beautiful," she said in their ancient language. She thought she'd forgotten it nearly two hundred years ago. She touched him with her foreleg, running a single claw down his chest.
He wrapped his tail around hers. "So are you, Wintertail, my love."
She looked down at her body. Shades of blue, from the palest white-blue to the deepest cobalt, covered her scales. Her long nails, along with the webbing between them that helped her swim in the icy waters of the fjords, were all back, all intact.
"I never thought I'd be like this again. I never wanted to, not until I knew about you." She grinned her toothy dragon grin, and he chuckled, the sound reverberating in his massive chest.
"We can be this way forever. We can stay human. I don't care, as long as we're together." Tsang licked her, his long, long tongue traveling up her neck to her cheek. "I like this form, I do, but there's nothing better than touching your soft skin." He ran a sharp nail over her belly. "The way I can touch you when we're in human form. They truly got that part right."
"Yes, they did." She laughed. Cold puffs of air came out of her nostrils.
They were fire and ice. Opposites in every way, except the love they felt for each other.
"But we can still make love like this, can't we?" she asked.
"Of course. Let me show you." Tsang licked her, then pulled away. "On your belly, Wintertail."
She rolled over, digging her body down into the mattress. They weren't full size or they wouldn't have fit in the house, much less Tsang's bed, but this was perfect. She whipped her tail from side to side in anticipation of what would happen.
"I've never mated as a dragon," she confessed.
"I have. It's…different. More…brutal. I won't hurt you, and you won't hurt me." He covered her long body with his and then took her neck in his mighty jaws. She shivered, not from fear, but pleasure. Obviously, her dragon self knew what it liked.
"I trust you, Flamespeaker." She did. With her very life. "You're my mate and you'd never harm me."
Flamespeaker grinned, his tongue lolling from his mouth. "Yes, we are mated."
He lowered his hindquarters to hers and pushed her tail to the side. Something hard and hot touched her opening, and she gasped. His hold on her neck tightened, his teeth bearing down on her.
She dug her nails into the mattress with the pleasure of his dominance. He would master her in every way, and it was fine with her. She wanted it, wanted to be his, wanted to have his seed inside her.
Pushing back, eager to be taken, Wintertail hissed as her mate pushed inside her. Unbearable pressure and then he was through and settling in deep. His dragon's cock was hard and long and so, so hot, at first she thought she'd die, but her body adjusted to the intrusion and the heat.
"So hot," she murmured.
"You're so cool inside. Tight and cool. Feels so damn good, my love." He spoke despite his hold on her neck.
He didn't move, not his body, but his cock moved. It retracted and advanced inside her, stroking her, rubbing over all the pleasure spots in her tunnel. She closed her eyes and let go of her fears. This was how it was meant to be between dragons.
He moved, his hind legs covering hers, holding her down, as he grunted with each pump of his cock. His claws covered hers, and together they shredded the mattress beneath them.
The weight of his body felt like heaven to her. Everything felt so good, so right, and it shook her. She wanted to cry because she'd missed this, missed being a dragon. But she'd waited for the right man—the right dragon as it turned out—so maybe she'd done the right thing after all. Silly, pigheaded dragon.
Her thoughts were broken by a hard rake over her pleasure spots, and a rush of arousal flowed through her. Her body tensed, then inside her, his cock swelled, pressing against her walls, igniting all the nodes, flaming them into hundreds of tiny explosions.
"I'm coming," he gasped. "Take me, take my seed, carry my offspring."
All of the small explosions gathered into one large, gut-wrenching blow that spread out from her core to her body, traveling down all the nerve paths to completely overpower her.
Together, they shook and shivered, as he pumped hot cum deep inside her, and she opened to him, accepting him, accepting her destiny.
When it was over, they collapsed, him still on top of her, but he released her neck. Flamespeaker licked her cheek.
"My mate, you carry my offspring now." He sounded very pleased with himself.
"Right. Knocked me up our first time fucking as dragons." She swatted at his nose with her claw.
"Yes." He grinned. "You loved it." He nuzzled her, and she sniffed.
"Well, I suppose we have some talking to do. And I have to talk to my mother about this."
"About me?"
"Yes, and about the baby." She sighed, quite content and happy.
"I want you again." He leered at her, dragon-style, one lip curled over his teeth. They were beautiful, sharp white teeth. She loved him, no matter what form he took. He was the most beautiful man/dragon she'd ever seen. And he was hers.
He shifted and lay next to her. "I want Mattie."
And just like that, she shifted. She brushed the hair away from his face. "I love you, Tsang."
"And I love you, Mattie." He kissed her, then pulled back. "You're so beautiful, my ice dragon. My mate."
"Your wife?" she asked.
"Of course, if you wish." He intertwined their fingers, then brought her hand to his lips
.
"I wish." She threw her arms around his neck. "I wish a lot." Then she kissed him, claiming her man and her dragon.
»»•««
The sun shone down on Tsang's face as he sat on the bench in the little park. Blessed warmth. The summer sun heated him, revived him, giving him energy.
"Aren't you hot?" Mattie called to him. She sat in the shade of the oak on her bench across the grass from him. Her lunch sat next to her as she nibbled on the sandwich he'd prepared for her. Today it was tuna salad, with dill pickle relish, onions, and jalapenos.
"No. Not physically. But hot for you." He smiled. "Always hot for you."
She smiled and patted her belly. "Hear that, junior?"
"Come sit with me." Tsang patted his bench. "He needs the sun."
She sighed, picked up her lunch and crossed the grass to him. "Only for a few minutes." She'd burn if she stayed too long without sunscreen and her nose had already burned and peeled a few weeks ago. "He needs the cold also."
They'd had to make adjustments to Tsang's house, where they lived now. She had her own room, with a window unit air conditioner, so she could keep cool, especially during the sweltering Houston summer.
"Yes, but I need my wife beside me." He reached over and patted her belly. "I need my son." Tsang leaned over and kissed her.
"What are we going to name him? I like Travis." She wiped her brow with her napkin.
"I was thinking Bluefire."
She chuckled. "Bluefire…I like that." She kissed his cheek and took his hand. "Travis Bluefire Zhou."
"He's going to be beautiful." Tsang smiled, a dreamy look in his eyes. The same look he got every time he thought of their child. It warmed her inside to see it.
"And brave," she added.
"Calm and patient," he replied.
"Determined, no doubt."
"But not pigheaded." He winked at her.
"No, not pigheaded. Stubborn." She patted her belly.
"Stubborn is good." He stood. "I'll see you at home this afternoon."
"I'll be there. Nothing could stop me." She looked up at him.
"I know. I thank the ancestors every day that nothing stopped you from coming to me." He leaned down, his hand resting on her belly, capturing her mouth, promising what would wait for her at home.
Her new life. The one she'd never wanted, but now couldn't imagine not having.
She'd run from her destiny, but it had caught up to her at last.
Thank the gods.
About the Author
Theodora Lane was born in the south, raised by her grandmother who taught her the art of the backhanded compliment, how to make sweet tea, and that you can never have too many husbands, just not at the same time.
By day Theodora lives an unassuming life, having lunch with the ladies, attending baby showers and playing refined card games. By night, she writes wickedly sexy and funny stories, hangs out in bars, and gathers ideas for her next book.
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Author's Web Site
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