Paradox I

by Rosemary Laurey

  How had this creature of courage and beauty come from those peasants who misused and devalued the gifts they were given? As if it mattered! Myfanwy was his and that was all he cared to know. As the singers began the second verse, Arragh led her on the slow promenade around the semi-circle of singers that everyone might see his chosen mate up close. The future of the dragons.

  She walked carefully, still unsure of herself it seemed. That intrigued many of the onlookers. Demure was not a word often used to describe females here. But Myfanwy met smiles with smiles, and when they reached where Granned, Rarrp and Marbra stood, she left his side to embrace them like sisters.

  It seemed she had fascinated Grragh’s mate and her companions too.

  “Come, Myfanwy,” Arragh said. She turned at once, stopping just to give Marbra a final embrace.

  “Yes?” Myfanwy asked, a question in her voice.

  “Time to leave,” he said and gathered her in his arms.

  With a laugh, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Where are we going?”

  “To the mating pavilion.” Before she could ask another question, he launched himself in the air.

  Chapter Five

  Her heart raced so, it surely out-paced Arragh’s great gilded wings. She was being carried off by a dragon and had never in her life felt so cherished. Myfanwy leaned her head against his gray-veined chest and listened to the beating of his heart, like a deep echoing drum sounding its own rhythm. “You are mine! You are mine!” it seemed to pulse in her ear.

  She was. His. Taken from her village. Flown over the western mountains. Swept across the crater of the great volcano-to their mating. She gasped with surprise as they rose several manspans on a gust of warm air and then dropped.

  Arragh barely noticed, his wings beat on and he never wavered from his course. “We just crossed the heart of the mountain,” he said, his breath warm on her bare scalp. “Halfway there.”

  Her heart skittered inside her chest. Just minutes away. She looked down at her body reclining in his arms, nipples shinning like ducats, her naked quim lewdly edged with gold, and the smooth line sweeping up her belly to form a curlicue. Hers surely was a different body from the one that waited in fear in the grove and in a few hours, she’d be another woman still.

  They dropped in a rush, a greensward coming up to meet them, but Arragh landed softly, his great legs taking the jolt. “We’re here, Myfanwy,” he said as he set her on her feet.

  They were standing on close-cropped grass, the soil warm under her toes, the air around them still. The green lawn sloped toward a high stone wall that enclosed them. A solid wall with no door or gate. A wall that blocked out the world, secluded them. Arragh’s hand curled round her shoulder. She rested her hand atop his and slowly met his eyes.

  They were deep, dark green with blue lights. She read in them need and longing, and a fleeting emotion that seemed like uncertainty but it couldn’t be…or could it?

  “Is this where we stay?” she asked.

  Arragh nodded. “Do you want to walk?”

  She wanted to fly—to safety. But watching the emotions flickering across his face, she knew she’d be safer nowhere in the world than here with Arragh. “Yes,” she replied.

  Hand in hand, they strolled the wide grass paths between hedges of lavender and beds of roses. The garden was planted with a riot of scented plants, mignonettes spilled over stocks, carnations grew between hyacinths and spring narcissi. Purple and white lilacs blossomed in one corner and wisteria and jasmine tumbled over the walks. Flowers of all seasons bloomed together as if in disregard of the calendar, or maybe all months were one here in the dragon’s roost.

  “Arragh,” she asked as they paused by a small waterfall, a warm waterfall she discovered as she trailed her fingers through the clear water. “Arragh,” she repeated, “why did you bring me here?”

  His heart all but spluttered out. He blinked a minute as if to erase all trace of her words from his mind. To no avail. When he opened his eyes, she was watching, waiting, and the echo of her question hovered between them. “This is the mating pavilion, Myfanwy. We dragons bring our mates here.” The hurt in her eyes cut him to the quick. One glance told him that truth that evaded an answer was no better than prevarication. “You want to know why you are here with me?”

  “Yes.”

  He had no choice but tell her the whole truth—and risk her censure, her anger, or the Goddess help him, her rejection. “I need you, Myfanwy. We all need you.” Her eyes acknowledged the urgent tone of his voice, but gave away nothing else. He sat down on a raised bench covered with sweet-scented woodruff and looked up at the woman who held his hopes and the future of the race in her hands. “Myfanwy, once we roamed the earth as the first creatures. Now all that remains of the mighty dragons lives here in the mountain while you humans populate the earth and shape it to your will—building bridges, cutting roads across mountains, mining the riches from the depths. We don’t begrudge you that, we held sway for millions of years, now is the age of the humans.

  “But…” He paused, looking over the high walls across the crater where the others waited—and hoped. “We have become barren while you humans prosper and multiply. There have been no young ones in living memory.” Arragh turned back to Myfanwy. “I hope, we hope, that you will bear me young.”

  “Can this be?” Her eyes were perplexed, not affronted.

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “We can but hope.” He wanted to touch her, to reassure her, to reassure himself, but wasn’t sure he dared. Not now.

  Her breasts rose and fell as she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “And if I prove as barren as a…dragon. What will you do?” She held her arms still but her fingers twisted together and one square-shaped white tooth bit on her lower lip.

  He couldn’t keep his distance. It was impossible! “Listen to me, Myfanwy, and listen well. We dragons mate for life. Whatever does or does not come of our mating, nothing will separate us. Unless…” he paused knowing he had to say this, “you wish to return to your village, but I’m not sure how they will receive you now.”

  “I am.” A frown creased between her eyebrows. “They would never take me back. They’d see me tainted by you, and stone me if they didn’t burn me as unclean.” What had he done to her? “You have me, Arragh.” A hesitant smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I hope and pray I am not barren.”

  That no longer mattered! That she was his was all he cared about. His heart swelled with a wild surge of triumph. He stepped closer. So did she. Her knees bumped just below his. He willed his to stay strong, not falter with his anxiety. He’d asked too much of her and she offered even more. He slid one hand down the soft warmth of her back. Pausing between her shoulder blades before easing his fingers over the soft skin and the delicate ridges of her spine. Finding the hollow at the small of her back, he splayed that hand to steady her against him and gently cupped her head with the other.

  Her skull fitted into his hand like an acorn in its cap. She was so beautiful freed of the great mane of animal hair. His fingers explored the sweet bumps and creases of her skull. He kissed the smooth pale skin, feeling her warmth against his lips, tasting the freshness of her skin with the tip of his tongue.

  He couldn’t stop, not now that she’d offered herself. He covered the dome of her head with gentle kisses until he felt the tension ease from her body. As she leaned against him, he planted a slow kiss on her forehead. He lifted his lips away as she looked up—and smiled.

  What more invitation could she offer than parted warm lips and a gleam of desire in her gray eyes? Heart tight and mind racing, Arragh lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were sweet with promise as he touched them as softly as he knew how. He had to remember she was human and virgin, Myfanwy needed slow awakening to reach her full passion.

  He gave her a series of soft, closed-mouth kisses. Each time he pursed his lips on hers, he pressed gently and released almost at once, pausing a second between kisses. It didn’t take
her long to pick up his rhythm. Soon she puckered her lips to meet his, her will and her need sweetening each kiss. He slowed his pace, making each touch longer and a wee bit stronger until there was more kiss than pause and Myfanwy filled the gaps with sighs. He slowed even more, but now when their mouths met, he applied more pressure until her lips opened softly like a flower in the sun, and she held her breath waiting for him to guide her.

  He led. Gingerly. Shaping his dragon tongue small and narrow, he entered her mouth, marking it as his and his alone. She whimpered with need as he touched the tip of her tongue. Warmed by her response, he kissed deeper, exploring her mouth, caressing her until her tongue came alive under his. Now she pushed and pressed, urging him deeper until he widened his tongue to all but encompass hers. Still she gave, now seeking his mouth and melting against him as sexual curiosity stirred a fire under her skin.

  Cupping the back of her head to hold her just where he wanted her, he eased his other hand over the roundness of her hip and up to caress the full curve of her breast. Every nerve in her body tensed, she let out a slow sigh and then heat rushed over her skin. He felt it in every inch of her. She was burning with need for him and what he could give her. She was hot with wanting.

  “Arragh!” It came out half-sigh, half-moan. She pulled her mouth from his and tilted her head back to look up.

  Her eyes gleamed with need. Her swollen lips quivered as if demanding to be kissed again and again and again. Her chest heaved and a soft sheen of perspiration glistened on her upper lip. Arragh tightened his touch on her breast, squeezing and slowly easing in rhythm with her hastened breathing. “You are mine,” he said, whispering the words into her lips before he took her mouth again.

  This time he pressed her mouth open and drove into her. His tongue the same size as before, but he moved harder and faster, wanting her to taste his need and awaken to her own passion. His hand tightened on her breast, his fingers played with her hard nipple as his lips worked her mouth.

  She met his fire with heat, and his need with wanting. She took his kisses and returned them with greater ardor. As his hands skimmed over her body, she curved herself to his touch as if begging for his caress.

  “Myfanwy, come!” Gathering her up in his arms, he strode toward the shelter carved into the side of the mountain.

  Myfanwy looked up at her dragon mate and let out a slow, contented sigh. Was it possible to feel limp and energized at once? Yes!

  “Pleased with yourself, wench?” Arragh asked, his eyes twinkling and amusement in his deep voice.

  “Very!” Reclining in his strong arms, she grinned at him. “I think, too…” she ran the pad of her finger over the markings on his chest, “that you are very pleased with me.”

  The muscles in his belly and chest rippled with the laugh he tried to hold back. “I am, am I?”

  “Yes.” She could tell that much by the look in his eyes and the smile he couldn’t hold back. “You are and I’m so glad.” She leaned against him, inhaling the sweet, smoky scent of his body and listening to his heart thrumming inside his wide chest.

  A strange fluttering of expectation woke deep in her belly, radiating through every nerve and cell. She shivered with the awareness that each step Arragh took toward the rock doorway brought her closer to a life change from which she’d never be the same.

  “Cold, Myfanwy?” he asked as a second shiver skimmed through her.

  Cold? Never! A fire kindled between her legs and where Arragh’s skin brushed hers, she burned with a need she didn’t understand but instinctively wanted to. She longed to learn the secrets of her body and taste of the never spoken knowledge between a woman and…a dragon. She let her breath out slowly, only half aware she’d been holding it. “Arragh…” she began but broke off as she fumbled for the words to express her excitement—and her anxieties.

  “I know.” Blue lights glinted in the depths of his dark green eyes. Her stomach clenched harder as he stepped over the threshold and strode confidently across the polished stone floor before sitting down on a low divan.

  She was seated on his lap, her legs stretched out on the fur covers, leaning back on his arm and the pillows piled behind her. The room was warm, redolent with a heavy scent of spice and cedar. The pillows behind her back felt like silk. Arragh’s skin rubbed with the teasing and now-familiar roughness. It seemed as if every hair of the furs brushed her legs in a separate motion. Her mind absorbed a maelstrom of sensations. She could hear the air around her, almost taste Arragh’s heartbeat, and smell her own pulse echoing in her ears. She shivered as her senses all but overwhelmed her mind.

  His fingertips trailed over one breast. She couldn’t help the little whimper. She wanted his touch everywhere. His hand moved, slowly, surely, tracing soft figure eights around her breasts. The heat in his fingers shimmered down her body to the now-aching spot between her legs. As Arragh continued his slow caress, his palm brushed her nipples. They were pebble-hard now, that she could tell, hard and throbbing with need.

  Myfanwy glanced down at her spread body. The same fingers that burned rope and linen gave pleasure as they danced over her pale skin, gray on white, like shadows cast on white marble. As he circled below her breasts, he trailed his fingers toward her navel, skimming her skin with a gentleness that intensified each touch. She was attuned to every breath he took and every pulse beat of her heart. Her body seemed heavy but alive with an unfamiliar energy. She closed her eyes as her head sank back on the pillows. Her legs fell apart and her shoulders went slack but her soul was on edge for whatever followed.

  “Tell me what pleases you, Myfanwy. What do you want me to do?”

  Her eyes shot open in surprise. “Arragh?”

  “Tell me,” he persisted, “what you like. I need to know.”

  “I like you touching me.”

  “How? Like this?” The pad of his thumb flicked her nipple, wringing a little cry from her. “Or this?” One warm finger traced a line between her breasts down her chest and lower. Pausing only when he reached the designs of gold just above her slit. But he didn’t stop—with gentle pressure, he made small circles in her flesh.

  She sighed. He increased speed and force until she moaned. Her body took on a life of its own. She had two pulses beating. One in her heart and one deep inside her quim that throbbed and grew until a wild moan spilled from deep inside her throat. Her hips rocked and shifted, reaching up to him, wanting more, needing more. “Arragh,” she moaned.

  “Yes, sweet mate.” His finger slowed. “That pleases you?” She answered with a weak moan and a jerk of her hips. “Speak to me, Myfanwy.” His finger stilled and the flat of his hand covered her belly, holding her down. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t know!” she half-cried in her bewilderment.

  He planted a slow kiss at the base of her breastbone and looked up at her face. “What do you do to pleasure yourself?”

  “Pleasure myself?” she repeated. What did he mean?

  Now he looked confused. “When you pleasure your body. Give yourself sexual release. How do you touch yourself? Show me.”

  His meaning hit her. “You mean self-abuse! I would never! It’s a sin. To do so merits severe punishment.”

  Now it was his turn to speak with shock. “How could they punish for that?”

  “The leaders do. My cousin Gwenda was punished. She wore leaden mittens for weeks...” Myfanwy shook her head, remembering the shame and pain on Gwenda’s face when she was accused before the village.

  Arragh let out a soft growl. “How could your people so pervert the Goddess’s greatest gift?” He shook his head. “Never forget, Myfanwy, your body is for joy and pleasure, as is mine. However we choose to take our pleasure and release is fitting.”

  The idea was shocking-and wonderful. “There is joy and pleasure in your hands. Will you touch me again?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied and lifted her to her feet. He stood with her. “Come,” he said, taking her hand. “I will show you many w
ays to take pleasure.”

  Chapter Six

  Wonder of wonders! Her legs not only supported her, but she could still place one foot in front of the other and walk as Arragh led her into the adjoining room––another bathing chamber. Both hands spanning her waist, he paused at the edge of the already-filled basin. Sweet scents of jasmine and lavender rose from the warm water. “We’ll let the water pleasure us, Myfanwy!” he said and jumped.

  Warm water splashed in her eyes, trickling down her face and neck. Arragh cupped his hands and poured more water over her. She reached up, from habit, to brush the hair from her face, and remembered it was long gone. Her body was now adorned in strange ways that pleased her mate but... “Arragh, won’t the water wash away my gilding?”

  “Myfanwy, that is dragon gold. Water will not remove it.” He paused, his hand on the side of her face. “I will when I kiss it off.”

  Her stomach and heart clenched and flipped in opposite directions. Her nipples, yes she wished, hoped he would kiss her breasts again…but to kiss her slit? Her heart raced and her face flushed hot with the wicked joy at the prospect. “I think I will like that,” she whispered.

  “I’ll make sure you do.” His hand trailed down the side of her face and across her chin, one finger outlining her lips.

  Emboldened by need and arousal, Myfanwy licked his fingertip, drawing it between her lips. He smiled. That was all the encouragement she sought. She sucked him in deeper until the first two joints of his long finger were deep within her mouth. She curled her tongue around him, tracing the knobs and creases of his skin, fluttering the tip of her tongue against his fingertip, finding a small crease under the nail, and a rough ridge along the top. She wanted to taste his all, to feel the very heat that loosed her bonds and freed her of her clothes. She needed everything and more. She ached to know the secrets of Arragh.

  “Slow down, little one.” Arragh eased his finger from between her lips. “Did that please you?” he asked as her lips parted in loss.