by Cameo Brown
Dream of the Dragon’s Song
Cameo Brown
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Cameo Brown
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ISBN: 978-1-59596-834-0
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
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www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Chrissie Henderson
Cover Artist: Zuri
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Dream of the Dragon’s Song
Cameo Brown
The Shepherdess of Dozah’s determination to save the dragonkind is tested when she clashes with Reiz, a warrior king whose voice almost brings her to carnal fruition whenever she hears it.
Reiz’s sole purpose is to secure the safe passage of his younger brother back to the Kilsh Brood, where Reiz must soon take his place as king, and nothing more. But when Shepherdess willingly offers herself to him in exchange for the dragonling, their physical union will uncover dangerous passions and put their desire to the ultimate test, a test only the most worthy will survive.
Chapter One
As the cool night air surrounded her heated façade, unusual moisture tickled Shepherdess’ thighs, threatening to spill from her undergarment and glide wantonly from under her skirts. The stranger’s voice resonated in her chest, as it had for the past quarter hour, growing more and more powerful until she panted with need. Her nipples ached and her pussy throbbed. Shepherdess clutched wildly at her skirts, and she considered slipping her fingers into her cunt and pleasing herself, so great had her desire grown.
How long had it been since she’d felt a real man inside her? Indeed, she thought, it must have been too long, for the deep, musical tones of the buyer’s voice had pushed her to the edge and addled her brain. She could only think of her need to mate, and she sought her depths urgently. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she massaged her hardened bud and slid her fingers deeper. Her middle finger had just pressed past her swollen folds and made her quiver when a cold utterance from what could only be a damaged soul brought her back from the edge of her desperation.
“I’ve come for the little dragon.”
The words split through Shepherdess’ heart like the sharpest dagger through a man’s mortal flesh. She’d dreaded them since she first became aware that one day Oliday would be sold from her care. Her other charges had been older and able to heed her counsel, but Oliday was just a babe, more prone to sleep than battle. Slowly, though she still felt the throb of need deep inside of her, Shepherdess withdrew her fingers from her wetness and leaned her sweat-covered brow against the rough wood of the old door.
“He who wants the black dragon, my dark comrade, pays greatly for the black dragon,” her master’s voice intoned, his greed thinly veiled. The derisive snort from the other man would have made Shepherdess snicker any other time, but at the moment her heart fought to keep from shattering into a million pieces. Selling a mature dragon who could fend for itself was one thing, but selling a mere dragonling practically guaranteed its demise within months.
“Name your price, Huntley, and get on with it,” the stranger growled. He didn’t sound to be in any better mood than she was, and the observation gave her hope. Perhaps he didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to purchase the dragon at all. Dragon wrangling took a special skill, and no mortal other than herself was known to possess it. His disdain for the task would explain the stranger’s unusual midnight rendezvous request and her master’s willingness to sell the dragon before he reached maturity -- the stranger had to be here at the behest of some royal who wanted the little prize.
Wonderful!
Royal henchmen sent on tasks they readily disliked made good bargaining partners. And Shepherdess had bargained many times before. In many ways. The thought of her past bed partners dampened her desire even more. But how would bargaining be with this henchman? The disquieting thought and the squishy feel of her wetness made her slightly uncomfortable.
“Shepherdess, bring the dragon. Now!” her master shouted, startling her.
Something nudged her hand, and she turned and dropped to her knees in front of her unsteady charge. “Oliday! Did Master’s talking awaken you, darling?” Shepherdess used a soothing tone on the baby dragon, who was still -- in her estimation -- too young to be sold. He lifted his deep black eyes to her and batted his long lashes, letting out a contented snort as he leaned in for a pet and a cuddle. Shepherdess’ stomach lurched and tears threatened to spill as she caressed the tiny, trusting dragon’s shiny black scales. They were translucent still, age having not yet had the opportunity to thicken them adequately. She hugged him close to her, mindful of the super-heated dragon snot dribbling lightly from his snout.
Carefully, she adjusted her skirts and swept Oliday up in her arms. He fell asleep as soon as his head touched her breast, and he snored soundly against her. Shepherdess smiled. Dragonlings had a tendency toward somnolence, and Oliday was certainly true to his kind.
Shepherdess took only a second to gather her wits before turning back toward the inner chamber where the men would surely be waiting impatiently. Most men, she’d discovered early on, saw no reason to wait for anything, and having to do so, whether for a good reason or not, only angered them. Angry men did not strike bargains as easily. With this thought playing through her mind, she hurried forward and maneuvered her way through the heavy wooden door, her demeanor hopeful of heart and quite determined.
Until she stepped through the entryway and faced the stranger.
Shepherdess froze. Her chest tightened as her eyes translated the scene before her. The most beautiful human she had ever seen, huge and covered in blood-spattered chain mail, glared at her from across her master’s table. His jet-black hair hung to his shoulders, its waves housing an occasional tangled bloody clump. His chain mail flexed with every breath. The mail covering his massive arms and chest barely contained them within, and his breeches looked ready to burst against his hard, sturdy thighs. Shepherdess knew she was tall for a woman, matching most men’s gazes easily, but this man towered above her.
Her breathing quickened at the sight of him, and her nipples began to ache again. Shepherdess could only imagine the powerful cock between his legs. How fine it would be to feel him atop her body, his magnificent form crushing her. He stood as a masterpiece and compared in stature to even the finest dragon. This couldn’t be just any king’s man. This was a king himself… a warrior king.
“Shepherdess, show him the beast. Now!” her master commanded, jarring her from her reverie. Shepherdess stepped toward the massive stranger, and though Oliday continued to snore soundly, his wings twitched a bit at the unwelcome commotion. Shepherdess stopped long enough to gaze down at her charge, patting the thin, veined wings reassuringly and tucking them gently back into place.
Suddenly someone fell upon her, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to look up at black, glittering eyes holding an emotion she didn’t recognize.
“What’re you doing?” the dark warrior yelled,
tightening his grip.
Shepherdess blinked in surprise, moving to shield her little one. The deep, resonant voice, which had somehow almost brought her to carnal fruition just moments ago, surrounded her with tremulous fury. His large hands shook her roughly, making her grimace. A maternal instinct forced her to pull away, and she narrowed her eyes at the commanding giant. He might be a bloodied warrior king whose very speech could arouse her primal needs, but she was the Shepherdess of Dozah, Keeper of Dragons. Any man who dared touch her so boldly risked her master’s wrath. And hers.
“I am, my dark comrade, tending my dragonling,” she answered, gritting her teeth. She lowered her chin and glared up at him, almost snarling in fierce warning. “This is what I do, is it not? Or are you not aware of my prowess since your time is spent on the battlefield murdering others?”
His eyes flickered briefly -- at what Shepherdess couldn’t imagine -- but the rage clouding the stranger’s countenance abated somewhat, allowing her a better glimpse of his pleasingly strong features. Swarthy skin stretched over a sharp jaw line and accentuated high, noble cheekbones. Deep-set black orbs, finer than any jewel, now gazed with wild intensity at Shepherdess, bringing a flood of heat to her cheeks and re-awakening the ache in her hot, wet pussy.
A small snort escaped from Oliday, distracting His Darkness. Shepherdess immediately drew her dragonling closer to her breast, and the great bloody creature in front of her grunted slightly; a warning, perhaps, Shepherdess didn’t feel inclined to take. Maybe the warrior’s battle-weary brain operated on fits of rage interspersed with moments of lucidity. She really didn’t care.
Shepherdess had heard such stories; stories of men saturated in the blood of their comrades and the guilt of their deeds whose minds and spirits only lived from one intense moment to the next. How many intense moments had this darkened, damned soldier experienced? How many more would he?
The question burned in Shepherdess’ mind, and despite her cautious nature and innate dislike of other humans in general, a need deep inside of her threatened to respond.
Chapter Two
It had only been a matter of hours since the deal had been sealed; the tragic exchange made. Huntley had practically drooled over the gold, silver and jewels the shadowy warrior king had thrown at him, and in a matter of minutes, Oliday, still sleeping, had been settled in a wooden cage and wheeled from Shepherdess’ life and care. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t cried. She had simply stood there on the hill above the pass and watched, planning, just as she had with all the other sales Huntley had set up.
Shepherdess never allowed any of the unworthy beings who crossed her path the opportunity to see her emotions, only her seductive trickery and her wrath. Huntley never followed up on his sales, and this time would be no different, though just as much an annoyance. The dark king trudging away with her dragonling had managed to incur her loathing; he simply didn’t realize it yet. But he would soon. Very soon.
Shepherdess had returned to her room only long enough to replace the garments saturated with the evidence of her desire and set out to follow her charge and his captor. Now she stood at the door of the room of the mysterious stranger in the small inn housing him, his warrior band and Oliday. She smoothed her skirts and pushed her breasts up past the point of what most would consider the limits of propriety, experience having taught her men tended to be rather awestruck by this sort of thing.
For just a moment she hesitated, the curious memory of the bargaining bastard’s voice briefly flitting through her thoughts and warming her face. In an instant, she experienced what she never had before -- a need to submit, to give in to desire. To be desired. What would she do if he spoke? Turn her deaf ear? She shook her head to clear it and kissed the dragon’s tooth she wore about her neck for luck. Her determination took over and Shepherdess beat the wood as hard as she could, hoping for a quick response. Whatever happened, she decided, she would manage, if only he would answer the knock.
Her hopes were not in vain as thunderous footsteps resounded on the other side of the door. The ancient wood rattled, as if in resistance, but the force on the other side won the battle of wills and it opened with a hideous creak, hanging limply on its tired hinges from the effort. The king, as grave as ever, stood before her, barefoot and naked from the waist up, glowering. Shepherdess would have been a little more intimidated had the monster’s nipples not hardened when his gaze alighted upon her.
Perhaps he had not been bedded in a great while either, thought Shepherdess, and she forced a wicked smile. At least she felt it a bit wicked. Most encounters with these sloths allowed her some stimulation if she worked at it after they’d had their pleasure and dozed off, but this one promised a bit more. Perhaps a great release from the throb overwhelming her pussy since she’d first heard this mighty warrior’s entrancing voice. More importantly, she would have her dragonling back where he belonged very soon.
“What’d you want?”
The dark warrior’s deep voice boomed at Shepherdess, but she stood unafraid in his striking presence. Overcome with lust perhaps, but definitely not fear. The door opened wide and his gaze roamed over her, stopping at her breasts, which were, by now, uncomfortably tight. His gaze drifted lower, below her waist, and he licked his lips like a hungry animal.
Thick moisture settled between her thighs, but Shepherdess shifted her weight and soldiered on. “I have a proposition for you, my dark comrade,” she said, making her voice a purr. She lowered her head just a bit, enough so she would appear submissive and, hopefully, willing. Warriors liked willing women; she had determined as much over the years.
This warrior stepped forward into the candle-lit hallway, allowing her another glimpse of his pleasingly strong features. His perusal of her took only an instant it seemed, and with a quick glance down both sides of the hallway, he grabbed her roughly and jerked her into the room, slamming the door behind her.
Unfazed, Shepherdess continued her charade. She batted her eyelashes and grinned. “So, my proud warrior, do you have a name? I like names. I like to shout them during, well, you know…”
“State your business, wench, and be done with it. You’re lucky I haven’t killed you already.” The warrior’s voice held a warning edge, but his eyes showed more than a passing interest in the movement of Shepherdess’ hands over her breasts as she pretended to straighten her blouson.
“What? No name? I have a name. Shepherdess. I am the Shepherdess of Dozah, and I’ve come for the little dragon.” The warrior continued to watch her hands as she straightened her skirt, which, of course, she pulled up just a bit higher for his benefit.
His interest continued to grow, as did the front of his breeches. He finally spoke. “She who wants the black dragon, Shepherdess, pays greatly for the black dragon,” he said, just as her master had during the making of their deal.
His gaze roved hungrily over her face and body, and Shepherdess felt heat rise in her neck as her breasts pressed against the thin fabric barely covering her bosom. She kept her bad ear turned toward him to fight off the effects his voice seemed have on her, but found it didn’t seem to matter. The tone -- the vibration -- sent heat through her veins.
The bloody phantom had bathed, and the hideous clumps of gore no longer hid his virile beauty. His black waves just touched his bare shoulders and his unusual aroma filled the room, making her almost dizzy. After only a few moments of the intoxicating scent, she welcomed the lustful feelings bubbling inside of her, especially after so many cold, methodical encounters from her bargaining before.
Without any warning, the magnificent warrior removed his breeches and dropped them on the floor. His erection bobbed in front of her, the largest she’d ever seen, and an urge to have him inside of her threatened to undermine her plan to find her satisfaction quickly and spirit her young dragon home. But she recovered, denying her need and remembering her purpose.
“She who wants the dark dragon, my comrade, will pay for the dark dragon.” She responded as best
she could, although the warrior king’s intense gaze made it very difficult to breathe. Before she could say more, the warrior closed the space between them in two long strides. He firmly grasped the front of her dress and pulled. Like the door, it succumbed to his strength, ripping and falling away in pieces.
Shepherdess stood naked, save for the dragon’s tooth around her neck and the thin undergarment covering her hips and the sensitive regions below her waist. Instinctively, she hid her breasts with her hands to mask her true response, but the warrior king’s hands were stronger. He pushed her hands away firmly but gently, exposing her to his full view. He nodded approvingly, staring openly at her taut nipples while he massaged his cock. There would be no hiding her desire now. So much the better. Her need threatened to overwhelm her and the sooner he fucked her hard and deep, the sooner she could finish her mission and head back home with Oliday.
“So, warrior king, what is your name?” Shepherdess kept her voice soft and as pleasing as she could manage, given her brain had begun to focus only on the tingling in her heated cunt.
The brute’s gaze settled on the dragon’s tooth hanging about her throat. “Reiz,” he replied, his voice steady and commanding.
The tones reverberated in her pussy, and she gasped at the tickle of it against her clit. She stumbled backward and fell against the door, her eyes focusing on his hard shaft. She thought she could actually see his cock throb with his heartbeat, but she must have been dreaming. Maybe all of this was a dream. She couldn’t be sure. The only certainty in her mind was that she wanted Reiz deep inside of her and his tongue caressing her skin to incite indescribable feelings of pleasure. She could think of nothing else.
A strange look crossed Reiz’s visage and he tilted his head like a quizzical mongrel. “My voice does this to you?”