by DJ Michaels
She looked at the savage, belligerent head not two meters from her. “And Benmonth is your dragon?”
“Yes. As I am his Enforcer.” Tarkan turned her a little to face another dragon, storm-gray instead of the midnight black of Benmonth. “That’s Annlyss, she and Ari are paired.”
Chelsea thought for a moment, trying to make the right connections. “So Benmonth and Annlyss are mated, you and Ari belong to them and the four of you live together in a den?”
“More or less.” Tarkan released her and placed his hand on her lower back, urging her closer. “Benmonth wants to meet you. He promises he’ll be on his best behavior.”
Uh huh. Was that before or after he swallowed her whole spat out her bones? Tarkan’s pressure on her back didn’t ease, even when she started digging her feet into the sand. As soon as she got close enough Ari grabbed her wrist and placed her hand palm down, right in the middle of Benmonth’s forehead. Now this was more like the dry and scaly she’d been expecting, but his skin was warm and there was a resilience to it that reminded her of rubberized neoprene.
Ari guided her hand up and down, allowing her to relax just a bit.
Tarkan stepped beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Benmonth wants to scent you. It’s the dragon equivalent of a handshake and it’s nothing to be frightened about.”
She licked her lips. “What does it involve exactly?”
“All you have to do is stand there. Benmonth will sniff you, maybe nuzzle a bit and then you’re done.”
Good god, nothing to it. She took a breath, locked her knees and clamped her mouth shut on the scream she knew was coming. Giving one short nod to let them know she was ready, she braced herself.
Benmonth scooted back a bit and laid his neck and head on the ground, then he shuffled closer until his nostrils were resting almost on her toes. He sniffed a couple of times, wriggled a bit more and sniffed again—this time in a steady rhythm. Using the skin between his nostrils the way a person would use their hands, he began making his way up her body. He was thorough, slow and very, very careful.
She got brave enough to take a full breath and as her lungs expanded her nose filled with a divine smell. She’d only ever encountered it once before—on the rescue shuttle. The pure sent of dragon was soft, illusive and not as sexy as it was when combined with aroused Enforcer. Nevertheless, the scents were similar enough that she found herself taking another deep breath. Then her pulse rate started to ease.
Once Chelsea got over her initial fear and she accepted the fact that she wasn’t going to be dragon food, she actually relaxed into the experience. Benmonth’s touch was soft and his rhythmic snuffles were kind of soothing and—there was no getting around it—the nuzzling was adorable. It shouldn’t have been, it should have been really scary but there was so much puppy in it Chelsea couldn’t resist softening toward the dragon. And even as she made the admission she knew she was certifiable.
As soon as Benmonth moved away, Tarkan threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. He was dressed now, he must have donned his clothes while she was dragon-bonding and sadly for her, being clothed didn’t make him any less distracting. The gray, long-sleeved leather tunic and trousers were sexy-hot, as were the black knee-high boots. His shoulder-length mane had dried enough to fluff around his head and he had a belt with two knives attached buckled low on his waist. When she cast a glance at Ari she saw he was similarly dressed.
Tarkan grinned down at her. “Benmonth likes you. He says your scent is good.”
Chelsea frowned up at him. “He talks to you?”
“Yes. A black can speak mind-to-mind with any Enforcer, and we can speak to any battle-dragon should the need arise. But for the most part we stick to our dragon and his or her mate.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to bit of information. “Okay, good to know.”
“Now it’s Annlyss’ turn to meet you.”
Oh god, surely once was enough. But no, Tarkan hauled her a couple of meters to the side and the entire process was conducted again, this time with the dark-gray dragon. On the second go-round, Chelsea relaxed quickly and the experience was almost enjoyable. Annlyss’ curiosity seemed softer, more personal somehow, as if she were interested in Chelsea for herself, not just as an intellectual curiosity. It made it easier to warm to the enormous gray, who was apparently referred to as a black.
When the sniff-and-nuzzle was concluded to the Enforcers satisfaction, Tarkan gave her a big cheesy grin and led her back to Benmonth. “All done. Now we can go back to the den and begin negotiations.” He nodded to Ari. “I’ll take Chelsea on Benmonth with me but would you mind mounting up behind her? I want her to feel safe on her first ride.”
Ride? Ride? Hell no. No way. “Now wait just a minute. If you think I’m going to climb the dragon mountain and go for a ride, you are completely delusional.” She backed away, ass out as Tarkan held onto her wrist and wouldn’t budge. Then Ari scooped her up and while she was kicking and screaming and begging to be put down, Tarkan climbed up to sit at the junction where Benmonth’s neck and shoulders met. Ari adjusted his hold to plaster her back to his front and gripped her like a vise, wrapping one strong leg around hers to stop her from kicking.
Chelsea felt a surge of triumph. These two smartasses weren’t going to get her on Benmonth if Ari had to use both arms and legs to pin her into submission. Then a large gray claw appeared in her peripheral vision, wrapped around them and lifted them into the air. That’s when all the fight went out of her. Too much, too weird, way too far out of her control. She stayed rigid in Ari’s arms while they dangled for a moment in the air before they were placed gently on Benmonth’s back.
Ari released her and quickly raised the hem of her gown so he could tuck his hands under her knees. He lifted her legs so she spread up and out a little, which allowed Tarkan to drag them forward and wedge himself firmly between her thighs. The moment she was tucked tight to Tarkan’s back, Ari pressed against her, grabbing her hands in his and wrapping them both around Tarkan’s waist.
The outraged protest died in her throat when she felt Benmonth tense and heave underneath her, his huge wings snapping open as he launched himself skyward. Protest forgotten, all she could do was open her mouth and scream.
Chapter Eight
As soon as Chelsea’s terrified scream pierced his eardrums, Ari knew they’d made a mistake. For any Enforcer, conquering a Gemarran’s fear of flying was all about getting them in the air. Once the reluctant passenger got used to the motion, once they realized they were safe, their anxiety was easy enough to manage. When faced with Chelsea’s fear, he and Tarkan had fallen into the pattern that had worked on Gemarra for generations.
But Chelsea was human, far from her home and in a world so unfamiliar she didn’t even understand the most basic concepts of their society. They should have talked to her, explained to her what was going on and what to expect. And now it was too late.
When her second scream came hard on the heels of the first, the desperation in her voice hurt his conscience more than his ears. Ari moved quickly, pushing away the flapping fabric of her skirts and clamping his arm hard around her waist. He placed his free hand squarely over her mouth.
“Screaming won’t help you.” She went rigid in his arms but she didn’t fight, nor did she try to bite him, which he considered a plus. “We are in the air and you are safe. Benmonth won’t fall out of the sky or try to dislodge us and Tarkan and I will keep you safe and warm, tucked between us where there’s nowhere to fall.”
Her breathing was fast and hard against his hand and there wasn’t a hint of give in her body. “You have to relax, Chelsea. This will only work if we act as a team, we have to move with Benmonth, not against him.”
Leaning forward he gripped Tarkan’s hand, placing it on Chelsea’s leg just above where her stockings tied off and her bare, smooth skin began. Tarks shifted a bit and slid both hands along the outside of her legs, one on either side, clamping her tight t
o his thighs. Once she was secure, Ari loosened his hold, rubbing small circles on Chelsea’s softly rounded belly, sliding his other hand across her upper chest to ease her against his body. He dipped his head, nuzzling the escaping strands of hair aside so he could press his lips against her ear.
“Just relax, pretty girl. Slow your breathing, let the tension out of your body. I’ve got you.”
She resisted for a moment and then she followed his instructions like she was born to it. She felt good in his arms, soft and feminine but it was her compliance that sent blood rushing to his cock. If she followed orders when she was frightened and not thinking straight, he could only imagine how obedient she would be when he’d taken her to the edge and she was begging for orgasm.
He let his hand wander higher, stroking the smooth, warm skin of her throat and he wondered what it would be like if Tarkan did manage to claim her. What a hell that would be, living in the den with them, listening to them fuck, watching all the intimate touches that he’d never be a party to.
As much as he loved his den-mate, as much as he wished him happy, Ari didn’t think he could bear living with them if Tarkan and Chelsea mated. Just the thought of it soured his stomach and made him want to grind his teeth.
He pushed the morose thoughts aside. They served no purpose and he was worrying about a situation that was unlikely to come to pass. Right now he had a frightened woman in his arms and whether she was destined for his best friend or not, Ari was the only one currently in a position to help her out.
“There’s a trick to riding dragonback,” he said. “Are you willing to try it?’ He felt her nod against his cheek and he gave her a squeeze of encouragement. “Good girl. Try to imagine your torso as two halves. The top half, from the waist up, stays stationary but the bottom half moves in motion with the dragon. Keep your body still and centered, but roll your hips backward and forward with Benmonth’s wing beats.” He moved his hands to cup Tarkan’s hips, pulling him in tight to the V of Chelsea’s thighs, then Ari pressed himself up close and personal to Chelsea’s rounded ass.
“Match our movements. Feel how we move forward and back, nice and relaxed. It’s just like riding a horse.”
Chelsea snorted. “I’ve never ridden a horse in my life.”
Ari grimaced at her confession. These women were so ill-equipped for life on Ivasta it was a disaster waiting to happen, but for Chelsea’s sake he kept his tone light and reassuring. “That’s all right, pretty girl. Once you’ve mastered dragon riding, getting up on a horse will be easy.”
He kept talking to her, his voice steady and his hold firm. Once her fear subsided she was a quick study and it wasn’t long before she managed to synchronize her movements with his and Tarkan’s. Then she got her confidence up and the roll of her hips became more natural, loose and relaxed like it should be. It was a nice, easy rhythm. The same kind of rhythm he liked to use for the second or third fuck of the night when he visited a bower house.
He began mentally listing all the reasons why he couldn’t have this woman. And his cock completely ignored him.
Chelsea could feel how aroused Ari was, despite the bustle on her dress and she decided the best way to deal with his erection was to ignore it. It probably wasn’t even personal. Any normal guy would get a hard-on if a girl kept grinding her ass into his crotch and that was pretty much what she was doing way up here on dragon-back. The fact that she wanted his hard-on to be personal, to be because of her, made her feel small and slutty. Tarkan was clearly interested in her and she was interested in him, but Ari was hard to ignore—erection notwithstanding.
The fact that she was probably worrying for nothing was giving her a headache, so with a choice that was becoming too much of a habit lately, she shoved her concerns into a pit and closed the lid. Instead of thinking about the Enforcers, she turned her attention to the view. Annlyss flew to their right, her storm-gray body sleek and elegant. The dark-blue lake was far behind them and below Benmonth the lush, verdant green of the forest sped by. The sky above shone pale blue and the ion clouds had grown heavy, the dark-purple clumps drifting together to build bigger and bigger clouds. After a week on Gemarra she recognized the signs of a brewing storm but she wasn’t expert enough to predict the intensity.
Tarkan tapped her leg and pointed forward, so she placed her hands on his shoulders and levered herself up to see what was ahead. A sheer mountainous cliff loomed in front of them, the imposing red rock striated with bolts of blue, green, yellow and pink. Large holes appeared at regular intervals in a grid pattern that covered the entire cliff face.
“That’s the Sapphire den,” Tarkan said over his shoulder. “This is the back entrance, where the dragons come in to land. The front side is where the Enforcers live, and we get the view of the lake and Sapphire township.”
“How many people live here?”
“Almost three hundred. Sapphire has the biggest den, the one at Ruby is not quite as big and the ones at Topaz and Emerald are smaller again.”
She knew from her lessons Sapphire was the largest township in Ivasta, so she suspected the size of the Dens were in proportion to the towns they protected.
The distance to the cliff-face diminished and she began to get a very bad feeling about the nature of the holes in the rock face. “Where’s the landing area?”
Please say it’s a nice, large, soft field. Please.
Tarkan gestured to the cliff. “Our den’s near the top of the cliff on the left-hand side.”
Of course it was. She glanced over her shoulder at Ari and he must have seen the panic in her eyes.
“Perhaps this first landing will be easier if you don’t look.” He put his hand on the back of her neck and guided her head down to rest against Tarkan’s broad back. “Just press yourself close to Tarks, try to relax and let the three of us take care of you.”
Good advice when she was hundreds of meters in the air, hurtling toward a sheer rock face and a stamp-sized landing area. Her mouth was too dry to swallow, she’d totally lost her dragon-rhythm and her courage had done a runner. This time she was too scared to scream so she squeezed her eyes shut, plastered herself to Tarkan’s back and whimpered in gratitude when she felt Ari blanket her from behind.
Then Benmonth banked, dropped speed and side-slipped them into a maneuver that was sure to splatter them all over the rock face.
Her focus narrowed to the simple imperatives of hanging on and remembering to breathe. Those instructions became her whole world, her mantra of survival, and she clung onto them as though her life depended on it. She clung so hard, in fact, that it took her a moment to realize they’d stopped moving and Ari was trying to peel her from Tarkan’s back.
“It’s all right, Chelsea, you can let go now. We’re home. Safe. There’s no need to be afraid.”
Uh huh. She’d call bullshit on that if there was any chance she could get her voice to work. Her eyes were still shut but she could feel their hands on her. Tarkan ran his calloused palms up and down the outside of her legs and Ari stroked her back, arms and shoulders.
Ari’s voice was low and soft, like velvet. “Open your eyes. Benmonth made a perfect landing and he and Annlyss are eager for you to see our den.”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to unclutch Tarkan but she did crack her eyelids open.
“There you are.” She could hear the smile in Ari’s voice. “Welcome to our home.”
The chamber she was in was hewn out of the same red rock as the cliff face, and the space was vast and bare with two large archways leading to what she assumed would be other parts of the den.
“Those doorways lead to Benmonth and Annlyss’ tack room, where we store their saddles, armor and our heavy weapons.” He pointed to a man-sized doorway. “Through there are our quarters. Would you like to see?”
She nodded and started to straighten up but Tarkan tightened his grip on her legs. “Stay there. Annlyss will help us down.”
Oh god. “No, really, I can—” Scream. Loudly. Wi
th an edge of hysteria that was becoming way too familiar.
Once again Annlyss’ claw swung into view, gripping Chelsea and the two Enforcers as though they were made of eggshells before lifting them off Benmonth and lowering them down. Once they hit the deck the men relaxed their grips and Chelsea slithered to the floor, neither her knees nor her heart up to the challenge of staying vertical.
Tarkan didn’t even try to hide his amusement as he scooped her up and carried her away from the landing area. “Say thank you to Benmonth.”
“What?” Clearly her knees weren’t the only things not working.
“It’s polite to acknowledge the dragon who carried you.”
Seriously? There was dragon etiquette? “Um, thank you, Benmonth.”
The dragon nodded his head and let out a snort that sounded very horselike to Chelsea. An observation she was smart enough to keep to herself.
Tarkan carried her along a wide, high corridor paneled in pale gray marble. The space was sleek and utilitarian and so unlike the overly ornate architecture in the township that she asked Tarkan about it.
“The marble we use here is a lighter weight and strong enough to be machined into thin, flat panels,” he explained. “It’s not the right composition for carving but it’s perfect for use inside the den. We keep this corridor clear because we sometimes have to mobilize in a hurry and we can’t afford to get snagged if we’re dressing as we run. Our living space is paneled in the same material but we use our furnishings to make it warm and comfortable.”