Dragon Breeder 2

by Dante King

  “You mean, she was a spy?” I asked. “An agent behind enemy lines type of thing?”

  “She was sworn to secrecy, as were all those who campaigned outside the walls,” Tamsin said. Her white teeth flashed as she smiled at me. Her hand reached for the door handle and cracked the door. The sound of merrymaking and music escaped from the inn, as did the smell of roasting meat.

  “Come on,” she said, her lips only a few inches away from mine, “the atmosphere and food here are great, and I am ravenous.”

  The Nobody Inn was a wonky, fashionably shabby place, which reminded me of an underground speakeasy mixed with the 1920s clubs that you read about in Hemingway and Fitzgerald novels. There was a man tinkling away on a piano-like instrument in the corner. Smoky, dimly lit booths lined the walls, except for the one in which a fire burned. It was as perfect a setting for a date with Tamsin as could ever be.

  We had just been served our food—steak done medium-rare and accompanied by sweet vegetables called water carrots, potatoes, and bread sauce. The wine was fantastic.

  However, within five minutes, Tamsin pushed her plate away.

  “I am done eating,” she said.

  “I thought you said you were hungry,” I replied, slicing into some steak.

  Tamsin fixed me with those glowing yellow eyes of hers. The golden pupils glinted in the middle of the lemon irises. Her eyes seem to flicker with an inner flame, shining with the same incandescence as the heart of a forge.

  “I am hungry,” she said.

  The forkful of steak, potato, and water carrot stopped halfway to my mouth.

  “Hungry?” I asked carefully, my gaze running over her face. My eyeballs, the little devils, took the opportunity to follow the line of her neck downward to where her firm breasts spilled artfully over the top of the baby-blue dress.

  “Starving,” the provocative hobgoblin purred.

  I sat back in my chair, a half-smile playing about my lips as I stared at the gorgeous, red-skinned being opposite me. She exuded a slinky, powerful, sexual allure in the same way that a hot water let off steam. It was almost a tangible miasma around her, exhilarating and enrapturing.

  Without taking my eyes off her, I signaled for the innkeeper. The female proprietress came over, inclining her head respectfully as she approached our table.

  “Dragonmancers,” she said in a soft, silvery voice, “I hope everything is to your liking?”

  “The food is exceptional, ma’am,” I said courteously—I thought it best to be as courteous as possible, seeing as I was basically about to tell her that we were leaving our half-eaten meal so that we could go and have a roll in the hay. “However, my companion here is feeling a little tired. We had a rather trying day today traveling and fighting. I was wondering, could we please have the most comfortable room you have available, so that she might have a lie down?”

  The innkeeper was clearly of the mind that keeping dragonmancers happy was in her best interest—a tavern that hosted dragonmancers, I noticed, became a hotspot in the neighborhood—so she bowed and said, “Of course, Dragonmancers. I will show you to a room that I have on the second floor. It overlooks the square. Will you be wanting your meals?”

  “Sure,” I said, thinking that after I had helped Tamsin sate her hunger, we might find ourselves actually being hungry. “You can have them brought up.”

  “Very good,” the proprietress said. “If you’ll give me just a moment, I shall fetch a jug of our best Mystocean burgundy and show you to the room.”

  The room was a large but cozy affair, with a well-appointed fireplace and bed that could have accommodated four people comfortably. A door opposite the one in which we entered led out to a medium-sized stone balcony. There was a small window next to the bed. It was open, but the view was only of a wall opposite, which I guessed to mean that the room was located at the end of the building, on the corner of the skinny street we had walked down and the square.

  The innkeeper swept around the room in a rustle of skirts, lighting candles, puffing pillows, and doing those preliminary checks that proprietresses do, before she smiled and backed out of the room.

  I walked over to the table, on which our dinners and wine had been left, that was set in front of the fire. I poured two goblets of red wine and handed one to Tamsin.

  “Cheers,” I said, raising my goblet. I had only stayed in paid accommodation on a few occasions, and of those, only one had been legal. It made me feel all the more like this new life I lived was a thousand times grander than the one I’d lived back on Earth.

  “May all your ups and downs be under the covers,” Tamsin said softly.

  She gave her elbow a tilt and poured the whole goblet of wine down her throat, in one long, slow swallow. I followed her lead. Then the hobgoblin tossed her goblet carelessly across the room. It landed on a couch and bounced off and thudded onto a thick rug.

  Before it had bounced a second time, Tamsin was on me.

  Damn, but she could move like a tiger; swift, sure and powerful. She was not as strong as Saya, but moved with an athletic, single-minded intensity that took my breath away. She didn’t wait for me to take the lead but slipped straight out of her baby-blue dress. It pooled around her feet, a puddle of sapphire silk. With a rough shove, she pushed me against the nearest wall. Some guiltless ornament was knocked free from a shelf and tinkled on the floor.

  I looked down at her then, past the rise of her magnificent breasts with their dark nipples standing to attention like a couple of diligent guardsmen. To my surprise, I noticed that each one was pierced with a silver bar. She was wearing a pair of black lace panties, the crotch of which was made of some sheer material which displayed her vagina for my viewing pleasure.

  “You like what you see, do you?” Tamsin asked, in a whispering growl. “You know, it’s not gentlemanly to stare.”

  “I’m no gentleman,” I said into her ear.

  I shoved her up against the wall instead. Tamsin let out a noise that was something between a gasp and snarl. Her teeth gleamed in the light of the fire in the grate as she bared them in delight.

  “That’s it,” the hobgoblin said. “That’s it! Show me who is in charge, you big bad dragonmancer. Show me that I am wrong about Earthlings, hm?”

  She ripped my belt open with a practiced twist of her clever fingers, and it dropped to the floor. I raised my arms above my head, and Tamsin dutifully peeled my shirt off and tossed it on the bed.

  Tamsin grabbed me around the back of the neck and began to kiss and bite her way across the muscles of my chest. Her teeth were sharp, and she didn’t go carefully, causing me to grunt in pained pleasure. I ran my hand up her smooth back, feeling the taut muscles under the skin, and twined my fingers through her lustrous raven hair.

  I pulled her head away from me and looked down into her glowing eyes. The red-skinned woman smiled up at me, watching me from under lazy half-closed lids, and I noticed that there was bright blood on her lips. I looked down at my chest. There were open bite marks there, but they closed even as I looked at them, healing before my eyes and leaving only little smears of blood behind them.

  “You’re a handful, aren’t you?” I said.

  “You’ve no idea as to what I am, Mike,” Tamsin hissed.

  “I think you’re a naughty little minx for one thing, aren’t you?” I said.

  The hobgoblin kissed me hard on the mouth, pulled back, and said, “And what are you going to do about it if I am?”

  “I suppose a smacked ass would be a start,” I replied. I slapped the woman’s asscheek with the flat of my hand.

  “You call that a spanking?” Tamsin said, the challenge glinting in her eyes.

  I tossed the hobgoblin across the room so that she landed squarely on the big bed. She laughed as she bounced on the mattress, twisting in mid-air to land on her hands and knees with her ass pointing in my direction.

  I walked over to her, pulling my own breeches off and stepping out of them as I went. I tore her panties o
ff when I got to her, as easily as if they had been made of tissue paper.

  “Here,” I said, pulling her head back by her hair and kissing her swiftly on the cheek, “just in case.” I pushed the wadded lace panties into her mouth, and Tamsin growled approvingly.

  I delivered a slow, careful, sensuous spanking to the hobgoblin. While I worked her, I feasted my eyes on her pornstar perfect slit. After a little while, Tamsin spat the underwear from out of her mouth, twisted around so that she was lying on the bed with her legs splayed wide open, and beckoned to me.

  “Can I help you?” I asked feigning confusion.

  I put one knee on the edge of the bed. My cock was a goddamn bollard in front of me.

  “On the armchair,” she said as she thrust a finger behind me. “Now.”

  I started to move slowly backward, but Tamsin shoved me in the chest, and I landed heavily in the armchair. Before I could recover, Tamsin, laughing throatily, had launched herself on me and taken my cock in her mouth.

  I groaned as the hobgoblin licked lustily down my shaft before sucking both my nuts into her pretty mouth.

  “Your taste sets my tongue aflame,” she said as she went up for air.

  I’d never heard that one before, but I wasn’t about to complain.

  Tamsin ran her tongue all over my balls before gargling them in the back of her throat. I moaned and closed my eyes blissfully, leaning my head back in the chair. She licked her way back up my shaft before plunging her mouth down on my cock and swallowing it with the dexterous deepthroating technique of the seasoned adult movie actress. She squashed her lips into my groin, and I felt my cock hit the back of her throat. The hobgoblin gagged and gurgled in a way that drove me crazy, made me feel as if she was properly degrading her.

  “Fucking hell, where did you learn to do that?” I muttered, staring unseeingly at the ceiling.

  Tamsin raised her head slowly, releasing my penis inch by inch until she had only the tip still in her hungry mouth, her tongue flicking over it. She smiled with her eyes, and then sank onto it—all the way to the base—again. She repeated this trick four more times, listening to my breathing become more ragged. My stomach muscles tensed each time she swallowed my prick. Tamsin moaned as she did it, and I lost myself in the overwhelming sensations that accompanied one of the best blowjobs of my life.

  Tamsin took my cock from her mouth, stroked it a couple of times, and slapped it on her pouting lips while she looked me in the eyes.

  “Are you ready to fuck me, Mike Noctis?” she said in a low voice.

  In response, I pulled her up from where she knelt between my feet. Her nipple piercings flashed in the light of the fire. She looked magnificent standing there, and I noticed that she was so wet that there was pussy juice running down the insides of her thighs.

  Tamsin turned so that her back was to me. Then she slowly, ever so slowly, bent at the waist and reached down until she was clutching her ankles. I found myself staring right down the barrel of her perfect pink pleasure tunnel then. It was quite a sight.

  I grabbed Tamsin by the hips, and the hobgoblin obliging let me guide her eager slot right onto my prick.

  She was so warm. So slippery. So ardent.

  While she moved up and down on top of me, I could see that her fingers were working away at her clit, rubbing and kneading at it. The firelight played over Tamsin’s red skin. Her long, loose hair moved across her strong back like a living shadow. The sounds of Drakereach’s citizens heading to and from dinner or doing some evening shopping drifted in through the window, mingling with the sounds of our harsh breathing and the slap and squelch of flesh on flesh.

  The next hour or so dissolved into a warm red fog of lusts revealed and lusts sated. By the time that both of us let out twin groans of fulfilment, and I shot my wad all over her shapely ass, and we collapsed as one onto the bed, I was about ready for the rest of our meal and two more jugs of wine.

  It was while we were lying on the bed in that blissful post-coital state of fuzz, that I heard a noise outside. Probably, in the half-exhausted state I was in, I would not have noticed anything amiss. However, with my doubly enhanced dragon hearing, I could hear that a whispered, fervent conversation was taking place in the skinny street, below our window.

  Tamsin had gotten to her feet. She padded over to the table on which our meals sat. There was the comforting gurgle of liquid being poured into goblets.

  I lay back in the pillows, trying to relax, mind my own business, and ignore the whispered and urgent conversation taking place out in the street below us. I had heard plenty of those sorts of conversations back in L.A.. They were usually the herald of a drug deal going down, or an illegal weapon changing hands for cash.

  But something about those voices irritated me, rubbed against my psyche like a grain of sand aggravating an oyster.

  And then I heard something that made my half-closed eyes snap open.

  “... Dragon Bane wants a report, I tell ya!”

  “A report?”

  “Aye, he’s called a meetin’! He wants all the Bloodletters there!”

  “You’re sure it’s Dragon Bane?”

  “Who the fuck else would call a full meetin’, ya daft beggar?”

  The raised voices died, so that even I couldn’t make out anything more than an impassioned murmuring.

  I crept over to Tamsin.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked her.

  “Hear what? What are you. . .” Tamsin began to say, but then she saw the urgency in my face. Her own countenance changed to mirror how I felt; suddenly alert, tense, and ready.

  But ready for what? I wasn’t sure I knew.

  I was pulling on my breeches, shirt, and belt before I had an answer to that question. As I hunted around for my boots, I could still hear the men outside chattering to each other, although they sounded like they were moving down the skinny street on which The Nobody Inn was located and heading toward the main part of Drakereach.

  “Hurry!” I said to Tamsin—unnecessarily it turned out because she was already changed and ready to go.

  “A dress takes a lot less time to get back into than all your shit,” the hobgoblin said to me. “And you destroyed my undies so that was one less garment to worry about.” As if to emphasize her point, she picked her tattered lace underpants off the floor and threw them into the fire.

  For the first time since this little date of ours had started, I looked at Tamsin’s outfit in terms of practicality. She looked like a million dollars, and her saving grace was that she was still wearing her dragonrider boots, but I wasn’t sure if a gown was the sort of thing you wanted to be scrapping in.

  “What the hell is going on?” Tamsin asked me when she caught me running an appraising eye over her.

  In a clipped, subdued tone, and in as few words as possible, I filled her in on the snatch of conversation that I had heard.

  “And, what I was thinking,” I said, gesturing at the gorgeous, shimmering confection of silk that she was wearing, “is that, if it comes to a fight—and my gut is telling me that that is a distinct possibility—then I’m not sure of that dress is going to cut it.”

  Tamsin seemed to regard what I was telling her for a second. Then she reached down and ripped a length of her dress off so that she was wearing—in the immortal words of the great Steven Tyler—’a little skirt hanging way up her knee’.

  “There,” the red-skinned warrior woman said, “now I think it is going to cut it.”

  She whipped her leg round in a spinning back kick that could have decapitated a marble statue. Admittedly, I caught a flash of vagina—but that was only because I was directly in front of the hobgoblin and because I was looking for it. Sure, an enemy would have caught a peek of her private parts, but that would have been of very little comfort when her heel caved their head in a second later.

  “You’re sure you’re ready to fight like that?” I asked.

  Tamsin gave me a disgusted look. We’re dragonmancers, Mike. We’re read
y to fight even if the call comes while we’re sleeping in the bath. Do you think clothes make any difference as to how powerful we are? How dangerous we are? How—”

  I held up my hand.

  “The voices—the men I could hear—they’re moving away!” I said.

  “Curse them!” Tamsin said, padding over to the door. “We might lose them by the time we make it back through the Nobody!”

  It was my turn to give her a withering look. Then I grinned.

  “Are we dragonmancers or not?” I asked her.

  Tamsin bristled. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on,” I said. “We’re out of here.”

  I walked over to the window. Because, I supposed, it was facing a plain brick wall in a tight street, there was no glass in it. It was basically a rectangular hole cut out of the wall with wooden shutters on the outside that could be fastened if the weather turned really bad. I carefully pushed the shutters open as far as they would go and strained my hearing.

  The voices were fading fast.

  “Let’s go,” I told Tamsin. “Follow my lead.”

  I clambered onto the bedside table and stepped out of the window.

  The two-story fall would have broken a bone had I been my purely Earthling self. As it was, I landed as lightly on my feet as if I had stepped off a curb.

  I moved to the side and Tamsin dropped down next to me.

  “Where have they gone?” she asked.

  I moved my head to the right. “That way, let’s follow them.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tamsin and I walked quickly, keeping to the shadows. It was amazing how many of those there were in Drakereach—how many shadows, I mean. With no electric lighting and only oil lanterns and the candle and firelight spilling out from the shops around us to light the street, there were patches of deep night littering the lanes and thoroughfares, even in the very center of town.

  These we kept to, as I guided us through the streets, tailing the voices that always remained just that little bit ahead of us.

  It immediately became apparent that the two men we were following were using the backstreets and lesser frequented alleyways of Drakereach to get to wherever it was they were going. I had overheard them mentioning the name of Dragon Bane, the person who had signed the letter that Penelope had found on the body of the bandit chief, and that was what had aroused my suspicions. The fact that they were obviously moving through the town in such an overly surreptitious manner was what compounded my speculations that they were up to no good.