Flight of Dragons

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  “Her scent is all over you, pal. If it cheers you up any, you smell a whole lot yummier than usual.” He inspected Gunn’s wrist then nodded, seeming pleased by whatever he’d found.

  “So, she’s spending time with your brother. A tri-bond?”

  “Looks like we’re heading that direction.” Gunn’s words rasped out rawer than duranium dust.

  “Relax, pal. It’s a lot more fun than you’re ready to believe.”

  “Good to know,” Gunn grunted plainly unconvinced.

  “Given what’s going on, I’m surprised you answered my hail.”

  “Me too,” he muttered under his breath, casually checking his wrist for the woven band of gold that signified a mated male.

  The first fine lines of the golden circle etched around his forearm. The delicate strands signaled the achievement of his most impossible dream and sealed his fate. His cock hardened painfully behind its protective pouch.

  “Where’s everybody?” Helax scanned the control room.

  “We’re running on the lean side. The last imperial mineral transport came with fighters. A couple slipped through our defenses. We lost too many good men. More were seriously wounded. The rest are exhausted.”

  “And you’re not?” The New Eden officer raised one eyebrow.

  “Diablo and I have more stamina.”

  “You want to play super-hero have at it, but if you need reinforcements. I’ve got a full complement of seasoned warriors parked on your landing pad.”

  “Let me guess, they’d love some combat time.”

  “Love might be a little strong, but warriors live for battle.” Helax winked.

  “How about your commander? I don’t want your ass on the line.”

  “I have orders to blast the seven hells out of anything that interferes with our duranium supply.”

  “In that case, I’d appreciate the help.”

  “What are allies for? Hang on a sec while I raise my number two.”

  Gunn swallowed a sigh of relief as Helax relayed new orders.

  Once the New Eden crew was briefed and assigned duties with explicit instructions to alert Gunn at the first sign of traffic, he and Helax adjourned to the galley and began bargaining for the royal freighter that had cost their forces so dearly.

  Hours of negotiating later, they came to mutually acceptable terms. After verifying the transfer of space credits, Gunn released the salvage title to the liberated freighter fully loaded with of duranium to his friend.

  “What about the little fighter parked close to the station?” Helax sprawled in his swivel seat too relaxed to make his feigned indifference credible.

  “Diablo wants her.”

  “Maybe I can change his mind.”

  “Don’t count on it, but you’re welcome to try.” Gunn checked the chron. “He’ll be up in another hour.”

  “Gotcha, I’ll do that.” Sketching a salute, Helax left.

  Gunn strode back to command central and scanned the security monitors. Satisfied all was quiet, he shut down the surface lights and secured the station.

  The need for Zaynah pounded in his blood.

  Sooner or later, she’d remember who she was and why she came to the dark side of Ranin Seven. When that happened, he and his brother were both dead males walking. Not even that harsh reality dulled his desire for the small shifter.

  Once Gunn had accepted the inevitable outcome, he immediately shifted gears, seeking for the best way to serve the alliance. What he needed was a plan of secession. However, the gaping hole in any strategy to transfer control remained—they needed at least two high level fire demons—three would be better.

  Aside from Diablo and him, he didn’t know a single fire demon. Let alone two or more, with sufficient power to do the job and that would be acceptable to the alliance.

  Prado had murdered the entire spawn of their brothers. The wily emperor might not have personally beheaded each of the sixty-four young demons, who perished that horrible night. He might not have personally set fire to the dorm, although Gunn wouldn’t put either of those crimes past the ancient worm. But there was no doubt the royal ordered the executions.

  The young demons had been d’skeku cadets, the emperor’s own future troops, which made the crime was akin to killing faithful family pet’s litter. The crime had been made more heinous when Prado planted evidence implicating Diablo and Gunn were responsible for the carnage.

  Time hadn’t softened Gunn’s burning need to avenge his brothers’ deaths. A whole generation of fire demons had been eliminated in a one tragic night. The beheadings and cremation matched precisely the attack, which had cut short the old king’s life.

  The clear motive for planting false evidence pointing to them was to deflect any suspicion the emperor had committed patricide.

  A grieving Prado had no problem casting Gunn and Diablo, a pair of naïve young demons, as crazed murdering fiends.

  They’d barely escaped Basilisk Prime with their lives.

  Goddess alone knew if others… He slapped the arm of his chair. Safara, the Goddess of Fire tracked every one of her children. What with one dragon begotten thing and another, he hadn’t been the most faithful of her servants lately, but he was still one of her chosen sons. She might listen to his plea.

  With nothing to lose, he hurried to her neglected shrine room and chanted the cleansing prayers to make himself fit to petition the Goddess.

  An hour later, his erection, hidden by the fleshy pocket for his audience with the Goddess’s servant, still hadn’t subsided. The ruby wash coloring his vision signaled a severe loss of control. He needed relief if he wanted to stay functional. The risk was minimal. It wasn’t as if he could get more bonded.

  He found his brother and their mate in the watch commander’s comfortable quarters.

  A less obtrusive baby tech hub occupied one corner of the room. A split display monitored the same views running in the command center in miniature. He automatically scanned the single panel console for any sign of trouble. Reassured, his focus locked on the double wide bed. A nest of luxurious covers surrounded his mate. Diablo curled possessively around her.

  An addictive blend of sex, horny demon, and sweet-hot female drew him closer. The shift to his natural form, already in progress, completed seconds later. His cock jerked in its pouch.

  The intimate scene was what he’d expected, other than for a couple of details. His brother had shed his clothes and shifted into his natural form. The male’s monstrous cock pressed against the feminine curve of Zaynah’s bottom. A mating band shone where it circled his left wrist.

  More amazing was the little shifter, still dressed, sleeping peacefully in his brother’s protective embrace.

  The mania he’d feared for months erupted inside him, making his previous hunger for the small dragon seem like a passing whim.

  Even scarier than his ravenous need for her was the aching tenderness and fierce possessiveness pounding through his veins. He’d slit his own throat to make her happy.

  He toed off his boots and stripped his clothes with quick, economy. No longer concerned about sharing their mate, he freed his cock and balls from their protective covering and prayed the connection to Zaynah allowed her to accept them as demons, because once bonded only in his true form could he find the sexual release to survive.

  ***

  Diablo’s hunger for Zaynah, surged through him with steady, burning need. The sweet pain centered in his hard cock and tight balls. Careful not to disturb her rest, he moved his heavy erection, aligning it with the seam of her ass. He didn’t attempt to peel off her one-piece. She was exhausted. Her well-being and comfort rated higher than his impatient arousal.

  Curled on her side, with one arm pillowing her head, she slept like a youngling. The slight rise and fall of her chest riveted him like a new found vein of duranium.

  He curled around her, painfully hard, but willing to endure centuries of torment for the privilege of protecting her. He tucked a wayward strand of ha
ir behind her ear, relishing the silken texture. His coarse palm stroked the soft skin of her cheek and drifted down her slender arm. As he caressed her he memorized the enticing curves and hollows of his love’s body.

  When Gunn joined them, Diablo’s simple acceptance surprised both of them. Sensing the truth in his brother’s eyes, he realized this was inevitable. Zaynah wanted both of them. For him, that ended any possible objection. Her happiness mattered, nothing else.

  An ignored conscience prodded him. How well could he care for his mate if he didn’t honor his obligations? His brothers’ deaths still hadn’t been avenged.

  They’d crippled Prado’s empire by cutting off his duranium pipeline, but they hadn’t achieved the real purpose of the blockade, forcing the emperor to attack in person and forfeit his head. Only by spilling his life’s blood would honor be satisfied. Then the slaughtered innocents could rest in peace and Zaynah would be safe.

  The pan-galactic alliance relied on Gunn and him for duranium. If they failed to hold Ranin Seven, the fragile trust they’d built would crumble.

  More innocent lives would be lost—the allies’, theirs, and Zaynah’s.

  Prado wouldn’t care whether or not she’d betrayed him. If their defenses failed, anyone standing with them died. A glimpse into the bleak future showed a dozen ways for their lives to implode.

  He found no sure path through the dangers surrounding them. When death came—if death came—he’d fight fang and claw until his last breath.

  For now his female slept soft and warm sheltered in his embrace. He wouldn’t rob the present moment of its joy.

  Carefully lifting her hair, he pressed his lips to the sweet spot on the side of her neck.

  Gunn nibbled on the other side, taking the same gentle care not to disturb her rest.

  She stretched sensuously and murmured a sultry demand, “Kiss me.”

  Gunn captured her mouth with his, slipping his long, forked tongue past her teeth to tangle and duel.

  Her sweetness melted on Diablo’s tongue as if he were the one kissing her. The sensations he shared nearly overwhelmed him, pushing him close to climax.

  She pulled away from his brother’s greedy mouth and met Diablo’s hungry stare. Her eyelids had grown heavy. The dark fringe of her lashes veiled a sliver of ruby irises.

  He braced for rejection.

  A miracle happened. Zaynah saw him in his true form and didn’t scream.

  She reached for him. Soft hands stroked his sensitive scales. Silken lips pressed against his heated moth. Her clever fingers slipped under his cock, cupped his balls, and tugged. The pressure of her grip was perfect. Hard enough to forestall an imminent ejaculation, but not so hard she disturbed his rigid cock.

  A growl of hungry love erupted from his throat.

  Covering his lips with hers, Zaynah sucked on his eager tongue, releasing a fresh torrent of arousal into his blood. Her special scent of night blooming jasmine, hunger, and sweet-hot female blended with the enticing musk of her arousal and his, ratcheting his excitement to an unbearable level. He summoned every thread of control, cherishing her slowly, the way his beloved deserved.

  He held her still for his kiss, plundering her mouth with all the skill in his possession. He claimed her soft willingness passionately. Leaving no doubt she was his adored mate.

  He gave her his breath, his heart, and his soul.

  She melted into him, absorbing, and soothing the hard edges of his need while whipping his desire to new heights.

  Gunn didn’t wait for an invitation. He peeled off her one-piece and undershirt, licking, nibbling, and sucking his way down the elegant hollow of her spine.

  When he lapped the smooth skin stretched over her tailbone, Zaynah gasped.

  After swallowing the sound of her passion, Diablo licked a trail of his own, reaching her taut breasts. Rosy nipples stood at attention, demanding his close inspection. Using his forked tongue, he wrapped around the rigid nubs and squeezed with wicked skill.

  She arched, pressing into his mouth and clutching his horns to hold him in place.

  The soft hands gripping his knobs sent jolts of erotic pleasure straight to the base of his spine.

  “You like that.” A sweet-hot laugh echoed as Zaynah read his reaction.

  His brother nipped at the tender skin covering her tailbone.

  The laughter ended abruptly, replaced with a whimper of feminine want caressed his sensitized ears.

  “Dear Goddess that feels amazing.”

  He wasn’t sure she meant the way he suckled her rigid nipples or the way Gunn licked her backside. He didn’t bother scanning her thoughts. It mattered little. As long as Zaynah melted with sensual bliss, he was satisfied clear down to his vicious black hooves.

  The truth of that last thought stunned him. He was content, though his cock throbbed and his balls ached from unrelieved passion. Caring for her—pleasing her, was his privilege, a sacred duty. One he’d die happy to fulfill.

  He met her ruby eyes, glowing with erotic pleasure, a reminder that dying for Zaynah was more than pretty figure of speech. No one knew much about dragon mating, probably because no one had survived the experience for long enough to relate any particulars.

  He figured it was as good a way to go as any—dragonheads better than most demon deaths. The corner of his mouth twitched at his automatic curse. He’d best curtail the swearing or his sweet little shifter might decide to rip new holes in his sorry hide.

  While he lapped and nibbled her swollen breasts, she arched, moaned, and relaxed her hold on his knobs. Freed from her grip, he trailed open-mouthed kisses to her slender waist.

  Desperate for a taste of her honey, he slid a claw beneath her panty’s waistband and sliced. He snagged the damp scrap of cloth and tossed.

  “Open for me, babe.”

  One slim thigh angled to give him access to her tender sex.

  Nothing but soft skin decorated her slit. “Do you wax, babe?”

  “I’ve never had hair down there.” She opened her eyes, blushing slightly.

  “I love your bareness.” He licked his lips, flicking his tongue along the edge of her delicate slit, sipping the intoxicating sweetness of night blooming jasmine and sweet-willing woman. “You taste like heaven.”

  Her cheek darkened, black pupils widened until they nearly eclipsed her ruby irises. Fresh cream coated the silken folds.

  “That’s right, babe. Gush for me. I want every drop of your sweetness.”

  Chapter Six

  Dear Goddess, Diablo and Gunn both want me.

  The intensity of their attentions left Zaynah no doubts. She didn’t need a star chart to understand what they wanted. Clearly she’d lost what was left of her mind because their sensual hunger didn’t frighten or even upset her. The two powerful males with blatant desire rolling off their broad shoulders thrilled her down to her curled toes.

  Gunn nibbled the newly sensitized fleshy pad over her tailbone with exquisite tenderness, driving her wild.

  She whimpered and arched closer to his talented mouth in invitation.

  No one had ever wanted her—for anything. The pain from a lifetime of rejection wasn’t like the distress from her missing past. She had no specific memories of being lonely, yet the emotions resonated with unmistakable truth, in the same way she was certain the Orion Galaxy remained the center of the known universe.

  Diablo teased an unsuspected hot zone inside her core, making her feminine muscles tighten with pleasure-pain. She moaned in delight at the almost unbearable bliss.

  Never would she have imagined having two demon lovers focused on bringing her pleasure. Pure ecstasy and utter terror couldn’t coexist simultaneously in one body. Her fears incinerated under the heat of their expert caresses. She wiggled closer to Diablo, begging for more of his exquisite tongue lashing.

  Even if she hadn’t had access to their true natures during Gun’s mind link, she would’ve recognized them as demons. When she’d first seen them in the medi-unit she
’d been terrified. Now she knew they’d die to protect her no matter whether they wore skin or scales. Their distinctive markings were a welcome confirmation she was able to tell fantasy from reality.

  Along with impressive horns, sharp teeth, and pointed ears, they had long, forked tongues and lethal black claws. They took such gentle care with her that none of their built-in weaponry caused her any concern. In fact, she found their cloven hooves oddly appealing. Perhaps she’d always harbored a secret satyr fantasy.

  One huge cock pressed the back of her knees. The other teased the front of her thighs, making her feel even needier. Their massive, smooth-velvet-over-titanium rods excited and worried her in equal measure.

  She understood basic biology. Demon sex couldn’t be significantly different from the holo-text version of human intercourse. She’d peeked into Gunn’s thoughts while they’d been connected. She knew what happened, eventually. Despite their tender care, they both wanted to penetrate her. She wasn’t at all certain she’d endure their dual possession.

  Her meager breasts seemed to have swollen to twice their normal size. The tips had tightened and grown so sensitive the slightest brush was sheer erotic torture. The private place between her legs had grown damp and swollen too. Although these changes were new, she didn’t cower from desire, thrilling to her first experience with passion.

  As much as she yearned for intimacy with these magnificent males, their enormous shafts intimidated her. She craved learning bed sport’s joys, but she really wanted to survive unraveling the sweet mystery. Accommodating both of them in untested channels struck her as the holo-text definition of an impossible mission.

  Neither one of them seemed to understand her fear. She didn’t want to disappoint them, but she needed to explain her concerns before they went too far. Uncertain how to relay her doubts, she parted her lips.

  Before she’d uttered more than a squeak, Gunn cupped the side of her face and captured her mouth. His silky tongue slid over her teeth, along the inside of her cheeks, and skimmed the roof her mouth. Every masterful caress dripped with bittersweet chocolate laced with green tea and something sinfully erotic that burned good intentions right out of her mind.

 

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