All she knew was that she didn’t want him to go away. Ever. Or to stop doing this. It had been real, crushing fear when Ardemar turned his blade onto Kiraz, that she would witness him die in front of her, and flooding relief when the threat resolved itself.
And now… taking the action up a notch, she fumbled with the buttons of Kiraz’s long-sleeved shirt, flicking them one by one. Kiraz groped Gissandra’s dress, trying to find the place where it came undone.
“How does this even work?” He muttered, stopping their kissing to concentrate hard. “I have half a mind to just tear the silly thing off.”
Gissandra shook with silent laughter. “There’s buttons on the side… no, not that one… yes. You found it!”
“They’re so tiny! How do you humans force yourselves into these?”
Still shaking with mirth, Gissandra clapped when Kiraz finally popped out the last button, allowing him to tug the dress off by shimmying it down her body. All that remained on her were transparent tights, and silk panties. Kiraz’s bare chest remained partially shielded by his shirt – and his tweed pants were still firmly attached on.
“We need to do something about that.” Gissandra’s voice lowered, adopting sultry undertones. She unsubtly started tugging at his pants.
“See? What’s the point in wearing nice clothes if they’re just going to be torn off anyway?” Kiraz exclaimed, as he positioned himself for Giss to peel off the pants, revealing his partially aroused member.
“Think of it like food presentation. If it looks tasty, then you’re going to enjoy eating it a lot more.”
One of Kiraz’s eyebrows formed a squiggle. “But food tastes the same regardless of what it looks like.”
“Oh, right. I forgot you like Brendag’s creepy looking slop dishes. Uh… just take my word for it. Deal with the philosophy later.”
“I can do that,” Kiraz whispered.
Soon enough, both of them fully naked, with the half-moon and the fireflies in the trees providing light, they took a lot longer to explore each other. Giss moved her palms over every inch of skin she could reach, seeking grooves, finding ticklish spots, scratching over the hairs of his chest and face, mussing up the ones on his head. Kiraz’s rough, calloused hands sought her body in return, marveling at the soft, smooth skin, at the way her spine arched, and her hair fanned out onto the moss.
Gissandra felt his excitement build as he turned them over, kneeling between her thighs, fingers massaging her breasts. His penis had hardened, and twitched as she bucked her hips upwards to grind along his length. Amber eyes glazed in pleasure as she spread her legs further, allowing him to fall into her. She was so wet that he slid in without assistance, her excitement peaking. Her heart thumped hard and fast, and Kiraz collapsed onto her, thrusting his hips forcibly against her. She clung on tight, raking his back with her nails, breaths transitioning into a series of moans. Pleasure exploded inside her, from the brush of his body onto hers, the way he never once broke eye contact, watching her reaction, grinning when she grinned, groaning at the feel of her holding and capturing him.
It wasn’t enough. She wanted more, to crush him into her, for both of them to burn up together, to make the moment last forever – but moments were like drops of rain, there and gone. Her orgasm coiled inside her, and her thighs trembled from the amounting pressure. She braced her feet onto the moss to generate more tension, and the orgasm snapped through her limbs like a typhoon, bliss melting her emotions. Kiraz came as well, shuddering with pleasure, before leaving the warmth of her, and cuddling up to the side. Gissandra raised a tingling hand to wipe off some of the moisture on his brow, beaming like an idiot.
They stayed like that for quite some time, gazing into each other’s faces, memorizing all the important details, the smells and sounds of the night and their bodies.
There were still a lot of things for Gissandra to deal with. More trials would head their way, followed by the mysteries of their magical world. No doubt the knights would eventually ride back into the picture, at the urging of her royal parents, and that ridiculously high reward. No doubt more villains would appear to replace Ardemar with equally dubious plans of world domination. But right now, in this moment, she felt complete, and wanted to hold onto the feeling for as long as possible. Before dawn came.
“This is our night,” Kiraz whispered, nuzzling his nose into hers. “Forget everything else for this time.”
Gissandra intended to do just that.
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Guinevere
A Dragon Shifter Romance
Courtney Clein
Guinevere
Copyright 2016 by Courtney Clein
First electronic publication: December 2016
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Warning: Due to mature subject matter, such as explicit sexual situations and coarse language, this story is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older, and all acts of a sexual nature are consensual.
Guinevere
Chapter One
The leaves rustled as the nighttime breeze moved swiftly through them, from time to time emitting a low sound akin to a howl. But there were no animals that howl in this area of the forest. There were only creatures not known to man. They were creatures thought up only in legend, those of lore that elicited awe and horror simultaneously. It was deep in this forest that lived Guinevere, a young dragon who had recently been struck with devastating news. She held back her emotion but only looked sadly on her Elder, who was lying curled up on the floor of a large cave in which they dwelled.
Her Elder had been with her since the time of her birth. When she had no parents to care for her, to teach her all the valuable lessons of living life as a dragon in the deep and unknown forest, the Elder had always been there. Now, however, Guinevere was faced with losing the only nurturing dragon she had ever known. Her Elder was deathly ill and it was unsure what could save the Elder’s life. Guinevere feared the unknown. She feared not finding a cure or being unable to conjure it up on her own. It was always under her Elder’s guidance that she had lived but now she was being tasked with saving that very dragon’s life. It was her turn to repay the favor.
Guinevere looked up at the night sky, dotted with stars upon stars. She wished to take off and soar freely but she could not leave, not now. She gazed sadly at the midnight blue canopy as memories of her earliest flights with her Elder flooded her mind. She could not help but wonder how it was possible that the strongest dragon she had ever known was now so weakened. A grunt of pain made her look back; the Elder had shifted while sleeping and even that small movement made the now fragile body suffer. Guinevere spread her wings. Would it really be so terrible to go on one short midnight flight? Those always helped her clear her mind.
“Something must be done,” she heard a weak voice speak from behind her.
Guinevere turned to see her Elder’s small, glass-like eyes peering up at her from beneath a heavily hooded lid. She immediately rushed over and rested beside the long body that had always been her safety net. Even know, the only thing in the world that brought her comfort was the infirm dragon resting on the cold floor of the cave.
“Anything,�
� Guinevere responded, “I will do anything to help you.”
The Elder struggled to pull up the weight of the body that had recently become a traitor to its owner, or rather its inhabitant. Guinevere watched with sadness, the feeling of hopelessness growing ever stronger. She wracked her brain over and over, day in and day out, hoping a way to help would suddenly appear written in the clouds. All of it had resulted in nothing.
“It is time,” the Elder said.
Guinevere was unsure if it was just a prolonged pause in the Elder’s words or if she was being told it was time to say goodbye. Unable to stand the thought of the latter possibility, Guinevere straightened up and cried out, “No! Please do not say that! There must be something I can do for you! Elder, please give me the opportunity. Please give me the answer I seek. I will do anything for you!”
“I am,” the Elder responded calmly and feebly. “I am giving you the answer.”
“Letting go is not the answer!” Guinevere cried in a panic.
She found herself wishing she had taken off for a flight through the night. If she were not here now maybe this conversation would not have taken place at all. At the very least, it would have been postponed. It was too soon. It was far too soon to give up.
“I am not,” the Elder said between heavy breaths, “letting go.”
Guinevere stopped for a moment and looked down into those glassy eyes she had not seen on any other dragon. She wanted to ask what the Elder actually meant to say but knew that any urging at this time would not only be pointless, it would be insensitive.
“It is time to call on Althaeda.”
Guinevere remained quiet. She knew who Althaeda was but only by name. She was the regional healer dragon. She was one reputed to be so great clans of dragons sought her out far and wide. Althaeda was not a dragon healer called upon unless the situation was dire. Guinevere knew her Elder’s situation definitely fell under such a description but to hear it said aloud with such certainty made her heart tremble with worry.
“I shall call upon her, as you wish.”
Guinevere bowed out of the cave and spread her wings. She would be taking off into the night after all but it was not to feel a moment of liberation or clarity.
Chapter Two
It was nearly dawn when Guinevere reached the area where Althaeda was rumored to reside when not out attending to an ailing dragon. She arrived at the foot of the large nest constructed by Mother Nature and stared up at the slowly lightening sky. It was of good manner to wait until the sun rose and announce her arrival but she feared her Elder could not afford to wait. So Guinevere took the courage to enter only one step and call out.
“Madame Althaeda, I come from a clan in the deep of the forest on a special request of the utmost urgency,” Guinevere announced loudly.
She waited with baited breath, ears picking up every little sound in hopes a positive response would soon be heard. There was nothing for what felt like an eternity but even Guinevere knew better than to be too pushy. Finally, just as the sun crested over the horizon, she heard a grunt. There was shuffling, a louder grunt, and a bit of scraping.
“All who seek me are on a mission of utmost urgency,” she finally called out unsympathetically.
"Madame Althaeda, I do understand the weight of your statement. I should only hope for you to grant me an audience to explain in the hopes of acquiring your assistance."
“Wait out a while longer and I’ll meet with you.”
Guinevere did not much like the idea of waiting around for an indeterminate amount of time but she knew there was no choice. At this moment in time, the healer was just about her only option and no risk was worth compromising the already severely failing health of her Elder. So Guinevere moved to the clearing in front of the healer's nest and sat, long and thin neck stretched out with her head pointed at the sky. She retracted her wings and held them tight, a nervous habit she'd acquired from a young age. She huffed a sorrowful sound as the sun began its daily ascent. The waiting felt like it could kill her.
Finally, when she felt she could wait no longer, a loud sound came from within the nest. Not more than a second later, a large and snow-white dragon appeared at its entrance. The dragon was smaller framed and thin, with feathered wings and a long mane of silky, straight white hair. Althaeda’s appearance brought a feeling of serenity, white all over save for the jet-black eyes.
“Why have you called upon me?”
“My Elder is deathly ill and has sent me in search of you,” Guinevere responded. She wanted to launch into a greater explanation and describe in great detail the condition of her Elder. However, she knew it was wisest to answer Althaeda’s questions simply.
Althaeda spread her white, feathery wings and glided down swiftly to where Guinevere stood. She stood tall and straight, beady eyes surveying the dragon before her carefully. Guinevere was solid black save for the silvery blue plate running up the center of her body and along the bones of her gossamer wings. Once Althaeda had sized her up and perhaps memorized her look, she asked, “What is your name?”
“Guinevere.”
“Guinevere,” she repeated quietly. Something about the way she asked the next question made it seem like she knew the Elder in question. “Tell me about the illness.”
“My Elder has been left weak, barely able to stand upright. Food is rarely consumed and even speaking is difficult.”
“And you are sure your Elder is deathly ill?”
“Yes,” Guinevere responded brokenly. She looked quickly away from Althaeda and up at the sky. It was difficult to say it out loud to another dragon. She could not even come to terms with it herself in silence in the dead of night.
“Very well,” Althaeda said, “Lead the way.”
As Guinevere spread her wings and took flight, she wanted to ask if there was nothing the healer needed to take on the journey. As they zoomed over the sprawling forest, so expansive that humans never ventured anywhere near the area, she could not help but wonder what the healer’s methods were. How was it possible to just take off from one second to the next? She had no herbs or special medicines with her, at least not that Guinevere could see. But these were not questions to be asked because it could be perceived as questioning the legitimacy and even knowledge of such a renowned healer. If dragons often sought her out and hers was a name known to everyone, surely there was merit behind such reputation.
The journey was long and quiet save for the sounds of the huffing from both dragons and the gentle flapping of their wings. Guinevere flapped more often than Althaeda, but it was not just because her wingspan was shorter. Despite her Elder’s best attempts, Guinevere had never quite mastered the art of gliding gracefully through the skies. She’d seen baby birds flap fretfully only inches away from the safety of their nests and felt she looked nearly the same. Only she was a large dragon, a creature to strike fear in the hearts of many. Her appearance may have been beautiful and quite unique, but she lacked the poise of other dragons she’d encountered sporadically in her clan.
They finally arrived when the sun was closer to setting for the day. Guinevere could only hope this would not interfere with Althaeda’s evaluation of her Elder. She feared another day passing could not be afforded at this point. Guinevere stepped inside the cave cautiously, not wanting to startle the ill and sleeping dragon. In the waning light entering the cave, Guinevere’s heart trembled once again with worry and sorrow. The once majestic body, large and silver with curved horns and large talons along the wings, was lying in a quivering heap on the cave floor. Small sounds came from it of pain and discomfort, sounds Guinevere had never heard before if not from her own mouth.
“My Elder, Althaeda has arrived with me,” Guinevere announced in a soft voice.
The Elder’s head lifted a mere inch off the ground, eyes peeking open for a fraction of a second, before collapsing down once more. Guinevere turned away and took a moment before heading out to invite the healer inside.
“You must wait out here,”
Althaeda told Guinevere.
“Madame Althaeda, I fear I cannot comply with your request. I must be by my Elder’s side.”
At this defiance, Althaeda rounded on Guinevere with stern eyes and a menacing aura. “It was not a request,” she warned. She stared Guinevere down for a few seconds before turning back to face the mouth of the cave. She then emitted a drawn out, low screech before entering.
Guinevere walked to the mouth of the cave and waited beside it, eyes looking straight ahead into the darkness forming slowly between the thick of the forest trees. If she had thought the wait for Althaeda to exit her nest had felt like ages, this one was eternal.
Chapter Three
The sun had set and the night progressed but Althaeda still remained inside the cave with Guinevere’s Elder. Not so much as a sound of shuffling or hushed whispers had reached her ear and Guinevere was starting to wonder if she would ever know what was happening. She once again looked to the dark sky dotted with shining orbs and wished to fly away. She wanted to sail into the night and not look back for a long time, but only if it somehow meant she was not abandoning her Elder. Lost in her thoughts, she wailed out mournfully into the night. She curled up at the side of the cave’s mouth and waited impatiently for an answer or anything at all. Her eyelids grew heavy with tiredness and her body threatened to fall into a slumber. After all, she had not slept at all since she left to fetch Althaeda.
She refused to give in to the tiredness of her body. She wanted to be awake and as alert as possible the instant there was news. As if reading her mind, Althaeda swept out of the cave and onto the clearing immediately in front of it. She turned to look at Guinevere with a look that relayed the unfavorable news.
Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance Page 59