“Just like your wings!” She felt like an echo but couldn’t take all this in and create independent thoughts at the same time.
“Not exactly.” There was that smug grin again. “My wings are always the same size and shape.”
“Your cock isn’t?”
He tipped her chin so she looked deep into his gleaming eyes. “My cock is whatever I need.” He kissed her lightly. “You’re a virgin, so I’ll be small to enter you easily at first. Then I will grow to fill you completely before we take the ultimate pleasure. Together.”
“I want to be filled completely.” Was she hearing her thoughts, or had she really spoken that aloud?
“I know,” Arragh said, “and I will fill you to the hilt and make our bodies one.” Her mouth went dry and her pulse raced at his promise. He moved his hips and his cock rubbed up her leg. “Lie down.” His hand pressed her shoulder.
Not yet. First… “Wait, Arragh!” She needed to feel with her hands the cock that would soon be hers. He was warm and smooth and harder than she’d ever imagined flesh could be. As her fingers eased from root to rounded tip, he heated at her touch. “And you become even bigger?” How could he be more marvelous, more beautiful?
“Yes!” He proved his words with action, swelling under her fingers and growing longer by several thumbspans. At her shocked and silent gape, he smiled, running his fingers down the side of her face. “Have no fear, Myfanwy. I will be the perfect size for you.” As he spoke, his cock returned to its earlier dimensions. “See? I’m ready, Myfanwy, and so, sweet mate, are you.”
She was. Waiting became insupportable. She wanted, needed his cock deep in her—right up to the hilt. She yearned to be taken by the dragon. Nothing in creation mattered more than being his mate, the consort of Arragh of Cader Bala. As his hand reached her neck and slowly caressed her breasts, the tightness in her throat eased, the wildness of her mind calmed, and the present came clearer than ever before. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’m ready for you.”
His kiss was slow and soft and opened her mouth and her heart as if she’d waited all her life for this one embrace. His touch was on her breast, her head, her neck, her hip, and the soaking heat and need between her legs. As he caressed, he put easy pressure on her hip until she rolled on her side. She balanced on her left hip, Arragh close against her back. His skin rubbed hers, one hand played with her nipple as his knee nudged her right leg forward. She was open and ready. Ready for the warm cock that rubbed her back. Ready for the slow kiss on her shoulder that she felt way deep in her groin. Ready for the teasing play of his fingers on her gilded nipples. Ready for the hard cock that nudged between the crease of her buttocks. Ready for his hand spreading the wetness between her legs. Ready for his fingers opening her. Ready for the trail of kisses beginning on her crown and one by one reaching the nape of her neck. Ready for his cock easing deep inside with infinite and intense purpose.
A great sigh of joy greeted his touch in the very core of her womanhood. Nothing in her life had ever been so right. She was made to mate with Arragh. Made for the wild happiness that flooded her consciousness. Was it possible to taste such joy? Nothing in creation could ever match this!
Until his wonderful dragon cock began to swell, intensifying her joy.
As her breathing quickened, he grew and grew, filling her, pressing the soft sides of her cunt, pushing into her depths, marking her, making her his. There was nothing more she ever wanted, no greater pleasure in the wide world than to lie as one with Arragh.
Until he started to move.
Gradually, easily, he slid out and back. The first few times she barely noticed, but then he quickened his pace, withdrawing a little more each time and reentering with increased force until her body rocked with his. Faster he drove and harder. Her mind shut down. She could no longer think or speak. All she could do was feel his power and let wild little whimpers pass her lips.
His hands grasped her shoulders, holding her down as her soul soared into a great paroxysm of pleasure. Now he was driving into her with a wild heat and power that matched his grunts and her cries. Sweat pooled between her breasts. His damp chest slicked against her back. His legs curled with hers. While his gilded dragon cock exhilarated her soul.
How could one woman feel such joy, such possession, such ecstasy? Her body seemed to soar but this wasn’t flying. She’d already flown with Arragh. This was more and everything. This was dragon fucking! A great surge of power flooded deep inside her, drenching her, melding with her own wetness and heat. Her eyes shot open as her senses gathered as if for a leap into creation. She felt white light. Saw her own cries as she climaxed. Smelled Arragh’s grunts of satisfaction. And tasted the touch of his skin on hers.
With a soft sigh, she collapsed on the pillows. Arragh’s voice came as if through a haze and all the world went pink.
Chapter Seven
Myfanwy awoke, rocking in Arragh’s arms as her carried her across the room. She’d fainted. She never fainted! But she’d never made love to a dragon before! She looked up at his beautiful face and smiled. “Mine,” he said. The word sounded right into the innermost cockles of her heart.
Nothing in all creation could make her happier.
Arragh held her in his arms as he bathed her. She was more than content to lie back and be washed. She’d been this weak recovering from the fever, but never this contented. No woman in creation had ever been this satisfied.
He dried her with warmed sheets, wrapping her in a fresh dry one before carrying her to a couch near a low table. He fed her sweet fruits and gave her wine from a golden goblet. When she could chew and swallow no more, he held her close as she dozed, replete and contented and content to be possessed.
She woke as the pink light of the setting sun glowed over the horizon of the crater. Arragh was asleep beside her, his leg pinning her to the mattress and his hand on her breast. She propped herself up on an elbow to watch the rise and fall of his great chest and the sweet curve of his mouth as it twitched at one corner. Her body responded, remembering how his mouth worked over her. His fingers shifted a little before relaxing back to cup her breast. Arragh murmured her name in his sleep and her heart raced. Was it possible to die from joy? If so, she was close to expiring. But she wanted to live, to live long with Arragh as her mate, and bear him young fledges so the goodness and wisdom of the dragons would persist and linger on the earth.
To think she’d once believed him a destroyer. How sad that her people had turned from the wisdom of the dragons. If she could only return home and tell the truth. Impossible! She’d be repudiated, declared unclean, if they didn’t stone her at first sight or set the flames on her. Myfanwy shuddered, remembering her fear before Arragh swept her in his arms and to safety.
Quiet in her mind, she asked the Goddess to make her fruitful and give peace to Bron and Mary. She felt a pang of sadness that their lives and been stolen by the village they called home.
In the still air, Myfanwy heard the singing, low at first then louder. The dragons were raising another hymn to the heavens! Myfanwy slid out from under Arragh’s embrace and walked over to the open doorway and out into the scented garden. Now the volume grew, rich and melodious. She couldn’t make out the words, but the joy in the song washed over her in waves of happiness. Without words, she knew the song was for her and Arragh, a celebration of their mating.
“The bed cools without you.”
“It was the singing.” Her heart tightened as she turned and watched her lover approach. “I came to listen.”
He was close now, his arms round her shoulders, enfolding her in the safety of his love. “They’re singing about us.” His self-satisfied grin told her she’d been right in her guess about the song.
“Oh, yes?”
“Indeed.” He pressed closer, her bottom was against his thighs and his hands under her breasts.
“Let’s listen.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his strength. “What are they singing?” One voice rose clear above th
e others.
“That’s Rarrp.” Arragh kissed her on the side of her neck. “She’s proclaiming the great power of my cock.”
Good heavens! Was she really singing about that? Singing or not, Arragh’s cock was growing. She felt his heat and hardness as he pressed against her. One arm now around her waist, his hand covering her belly while his fingertips played her quim. She was wet again. Wanting him. Needing Arragh.
“She’s saying you carry my seed inside you and will give birth to a fine young dragon.”
“Already?” Was it possible? Yes. But…
“My sister sees what others can’t.”
“Is she sure?”
“I’m not.” He stepped back, tugging at her arm. “But we have days to make certain. Come on.” She followed him back under the roof.
“Days?” She wanted to chuckle. His cock looked ready to burst. Hours earlier, his size would have alarmed her. Now it sent her body wet with need.
He clasped her by the waist and held her to him, pressing his cock into the softness of her belly. His eyes glowed blue-green as he looked down at her. “Days, Myfanwy. Whole days and nights.” His kiss sent tremors of anticipation across her skin. “And you’ll spend them where you belong. In my nest.”
Where else?
About the Author
To learn more about Rosemary Laurey, please visit http://www.rosemarylaurey.com.
Heart of the Raven
J.C. Wilder
Dedication
For Audra Hensly—a true lover of fiction and fantasy.
Chapter One
Shivering in her threadbare shift and ragged fur wrap, Dani crouched beside the wheel of her family’s wagon. Even with rags wrapped around her feet, her toes were numb. The weak winter sun had faded from the sky several hours earlier, veiling the landscape in icy darkness. She barely acknowledged the discomfort as she’d never known any different. Most of her life had been spent freezing in the winter and burning in the summer.
A few feet away was a small campfire around which crowded her traveling companions. Her father Con was a big brutish man with fists like rocks and a passion for ale. He sat on a tree stump, his clothing rumpled and dirty as he chugged from a jug of cheap Climerian ale.
His younger brother sat next to him. Rayben fancied himself a magician and sorcerer, one the likes of which the world had never seen, or so he said. That part was true at least, as no one had ever seen him actually use magic on anything. From what Dani had witnessed during their long years on the road, his only talent was wenching and swilling ale with her father.
Two recent additions sat huddled around the fire across from her family. The strangers had joined them several days ago, shortly after Dani and her family had been chased from yet another town.
The tall blond one had introduced himself as Dar while the shorter, greasier one was called Knot. Dani wasn’t sure if that was really his name or if the deformity on the side of his head caused people to make fun of him to the point that he believed it was his name.
Whatever the reason, Dani knew she wasn’t coming out from behind the dubious sanctuary of the wagon wheel until they were long gone. Both men, upon seeing her, had immediately inquired as to the price of her services for a quick fuck. Luckily for her, Con hadn’t been that drunk.
Yet.
Having been on the road most of her life, Dani was no innocent. The only reason her father kept her around was because he liked his food prepared for him. Con had sold her older sister, Nova, to another group of travelers like themselves many seasons ago. Her family had been down on their luck yet again and one of the men had offered a handsome sum. Con had turned over his oldest daughter with nary a backward glance.
Dani rubbed her skinny arms and wondered where Nova was now. Was she still alive? The life of a traveler was hard and for a woman ill-used, it was short as well. Living outside under the stars, always stealing the necessities of life and fighting for every mouthful to be had—if Nova had been abandoned, her belly filled with a child… Dani shuddered. It was hard enough to scavenge enough food for one, let alone two, and a woman alone wasn’t safe. For most men, it wouldn’t matter if she were breeding or not if she was close at hand.
Dani propped her chin on her crossed arms. As long as she remained trapped with her father, she would always be in danger of suffering the same fate as Nova. Realizing this, she’d tried to escape several seasons ago only to be caught by Rayben a few days later. She shifted her foot and the large iron cuff and chain that bound her to the wagon clanked. Her father had stopped in the next town and had the ironsmith imprison his remaining daughter. Con had laughed when she’d told him why she’d run. He told her that Nova was beautiful and men desired her while Dani was as ugly as a boil. No man would ever want to bed her, let alone choose her as a lifemate.
She scowled at her father through the spokes of the wheels. She longed for a place to rest, where people would accept her. A place where she didn’t have to fight for every morsel of food and a place to lay her head. To have someone to love her for who she was and, most of all, to make her own decisions about where she went and what she did. That was Dani’s idea of real freedom.
Not everyone in the world traveled. There were quite a few settlements in the southlands where people lived and worked together to keep home and hearth intact. An overseer governed those privileged enough to live in such a settlement and those families didn’t have to move like the travelers. They lived in cities surrounded by peaceful farmland. Even the poorest family had a small home, a plot of land, farm animals and enough food to eat. They didn’t sleep in the mud and run from town to town one step ahead of the peacekeepers.
She’d been to one of those cities once. All had been welcome in Malian, even the travelers, as long as they abided by the rules of the overseer. The only time in her life she’d slept with a roof over her head was within the confines of that city. But that had been many years ago, before her mother had died when Dani was but a child.
After her mother’s death, Con had gotten them kicked out of Malian. He, Rayben and Jod, the eldest brother who now languished in a Sladerian prison for murder, had been caught stealing horses from the overseer.
As long as Dani lived, she would never forget the night she’d been rousted from her warm bed and summarily tossed into the streets. Warriors of the overseer had towered over her, their gray uniforms emblazoned with the Malian emblem had made them look ten feet tall, as the impatient hooves of the horses had ground their meager possessions into the mud. Never would she forget how the mighty Malian warriors had looked at her as if she were trash—something distasteful to be swept forever out of sight. She and her family had been escorted to the city limits and forbidden to return.
Dani shuddered and drew her arms tighter around her knees. Even now, so many years later, she still suffered from occasional nightmares of that horrific night.
Ever since then, they’d traveled from town to town, her father gambling and stealing what he could while Rayben concocted potions to cure ailments and performed slight of hand tricks that resulted in liberated gold coins from his victims. Her job was to cook the stolen food and forage when it was necessary. Lately it had been necessary more than not.
“Girl! Where are you, you lazy whore?”
Dani jumped at her father’s strident tone. He never called her by name. It was always “girl”. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered her name or that she was his flesh and blood.
She rose to her feet and shuffled around the wagon. The thick iron cuff on her ankle made walking slow. She’d padded the inside of the cuff with dried grasses to keep the chafing to a minimum, but the miniscule layer did little to save her skin from abuse.
“Yes?”
“‘Bout time, you lazy wench.” Con scooped up the dice and dropped them into a leather cup, jiggling it before tossing the dice into the dirt again. “Bring me another jug and be quick about it.”
Dani reached into the wagon and pushed the heap of
smelly blankets aside. As soon as the weather warmed, she’d have to wash the blankets and clothes. Until then they’d just have to stay dirty. It’s not as if the men ever noticed anyway. She located a pottery flask of ale in the back of the wagon. With short mincing steps, she walked to her father, doing her best to avoid Knot and Dar.
“‘Bout time.” He snatched the flask from her grip. “You’re as slow as a Sladerian sloth and twice as ugly. Get out of my sight,” he snarled. “I don’t want to see your face before morn. Do ye hear, girl?”
Dani scrambled back toward the wagon, the chain hampering her, and she received a sharp pinch on her buttock that sent her stumbling. She shot Knot an evil glare as she made her way back to the wagon. Grabbing her meager bedroll from the back, she slipped under the wagon into the dubious safety offered between its wheels.
She unfolded a small grass mat and placed it on the cold, hard ground. Sitting up with her back against the wheel, she tucked her knees tightly to her chest as she wrapped a shabby blanket around herself. The blanket was too small and threadbare to do much but every little bit helped.
Weary, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The noise of the men around the fire slurping ale and expelling noxious gases from their back ends faded as another scene, a favored scene, took shape in her mind’s eye.
She sat at a massive dining table laden with every type of food imaginable. Stuffed pheasant, smoked fish, and freshly roasted fowl resided in massive troughs. Bowls of spring greens cooked with pork and onion sat next to a towering arrangement of fresh fruits. Her mouth watered and her stomach rumbled. She was so hungry it was all she could do to not throw herself face first into the feast.
Dani reached out for a hunk of steaming hot bread and caught sight of her arm. Encrusted dirt turned her pale skin to a dark brown. Ashamed of her dirty clothes and body, she pulled her arm back as a hooded servant approached.
Paradox I Page 7