10

RAST
A challenger has arrivedto take my mate from me. Another fool thinks he can steal away what is mine.
I call out an angry challenge, flying out from my nest to meet the interloper. I am furious at his timing—to think that I had my face buried in the sweetness of my mate's cunt and this one comes to try and claim her mere moments before I am about to sink into her and give her my fires? I will destroy him twice as quickly for taking me away from my mate's touches.
The other responds with an angry blast, and I follow his scent, circling the building to meet him. He is an older male, judging by the scars and marks that cover his scales. One of his nostrils is torn from an old battle wound, his face in a permanent snarl. His scales are pale but his eyes are just as black as mine. He smells my Aahm and wants to take her for his own.
I will burn this entire world to the ground before I will let him place one claw on her. I rear back, flapping my wings hard so I can change the angle at which I dive at him. As I do, I see his claws are nearly as long as mine were. An honored warrior, then. My claws are destroyed, useless. If we were home, it would be a mark of shame, but we are here, in this strange, wretched place, and without them, I can touch my mate as freely as I like.
I will need to use my teeth and my cunning, then. It does not matter. One way or another, I will defeat him.
He bares his fangs at me and dives low, trying to move behind me so he can grab my neck. A classic move, one that mere young are taught in their first days of battle. I easily evade it, keeping my chest toward him and my head down so he cannot gouge at the thin line of vulnerable scales underneath my jaw. He lunges at me again, and once more, I twist away with ease. I will let him show his moves before I attack back. When he swoops and dives at me again, I notice he lunges at me with the same claws and his body twists, one wing not beating as hard as the other. It would not be noticeable to anyone except one with my skill, but with that showing, he is as good as dead. I dodge him once more and then whirl through the air, soaring high.
He chases me, as I suspected he would, and we move along the wind currents, going higher and higher. I flick my wings, changing the angle, and flip backward, only to tuck my wings in and drop through the sky, directly onto his back. He cannot move away fast enough, his one wing thicker with scar tissue. He tries to maneuver, but too late. I clasp my jaws around his neck and while he tries to buck me off, I increase pressure, searching for the right spot to crush his windpipe and destroy him.
The interloper struggles fiercely, but for all his long, glorious claws and experience, I am younger and stronger and far more clever. My mind is clearer than his thanks to my mate's presence, and I must destroy him quickly so I can get back to tasting her sweet cunt. The older one twists in my grip and then my teeth sink deep. I clamp down and shake my head fiercely, waiting for the satisfying snap.
It takes a few attempts, but then I feel his bones crack under my grasp, and his neck goes limp between my teeth. I continue the pressure, even as I extend my wings, gliding our bodies toward the ground. I will leave him here to rot as a warning to any others that think to take her from me before I can claim her. The scent of two dragons in this area will keep any but the strongest—or most insane—away from my nest.
I let his body down gently onto the earth, then tilt my head back and drink the blood filling my mouth as a sign of respect. My mate's scent flutters through the breeze, fear mixed with the warm honey of her cunt, and it fills me with a surge of longing. I must return to her side. Claim her like I should have days ago. Fill her body with my cock and then sink my fangs deep into her neck. Share my fires with her so we can share spirits.
Then no one will seek to claim her from me again.
I beat my wings, abandoning the corpse of my challenger, and fly back upwards, my mind on my mate and the way her cunt was drenched with desire for me. My lust for her is overriding the rage-smoke that threatens to cloud my mind, but I push it back, focusing on her scent. Her delicious, needy scent. It is a mystery to me as to why she is giving off mating scents when I have not challenged her, but she is human. Perhaps they do not challenge the same. I think of the way she wrapped her arms around me in the box with the spraying water. My Aahm is delicate and soft…perhaps that was the gentlest challenge ever and I did not realize it? Was that enough to arouse her? Or was it the mouth-on-mouth that made her want to mate?
Do humans have different signals than drakoni?
Just thinking of her sweet mouth has me wild with hunger. I rush back to the nest and see that it is not necessary to go to the roof and descend the human stairs with two legs. I have torn an enormous hole in the side of the building with my fury, and my mate waits there, clinging to the wall. Her hair whips about her face in the breeze, and I want to grasp her in my claws and hide her away from the world, to selfishly dominate her and hide her away so no one else can drink in her incredible scent.
I land inside the nest, tucking my wings close, and then return to my two-legged form. Her eyes go wide and she backs up a step as I approach her, still full of lust from our earlier encounter. I want to return to my place between her legs, to bury my mouth in her cunt once more. I realize dimly that I'm snarling, that my shoulders are hunched with anger, and that I have given in to the rage-fires once more. My thoughts are mere sparks flicking through the inferno in my mind, and the only thing that keeps me from sinking back into the wildfire of madness is the female before me.
That is why I must claim her.
Now.
Before any others can stop me. Before another challenger arises. Before I lose myself to the rages entirely.
Her fear-scent stops me, though. I approach her, but I slow my steps. She watches me with wide eyes, wariness in her body. Her mating-scent is all but gone, and as I near her, I want to drop to my knees and lick her until I taste it again.
But then she reaches out for me, and I am distracted. She says something in her soft voice, her tone soothing. I pause, because she has never reached for me before. This is new. It takes everything I have to keep my hands at my sides, but I do not want her fear-scent growing stronger.
She murmurs again and reaches up to caress my cheek. Her fingers stroke over my skin, and then she indicates we should sit on the bed. I follow her lead when she takes my hand, and let her guide me there. Are we going back to mating? Does she want this, too? But I do not smell her mating-scent anymore, so it cannot be that. She keeps her hands on me, caressing my skin, and I close my eyes, losing myself to this sensation. If I cannot mount her, then I will take this. Her hands flutter over my shoulders and arms, brushing over my chest. She does not go lower, and this tells me she is not wanting to mate any longer. I have missed my chance for now. I will need her to challenge me again with her mouth and the body-rubbing in the water.
Tomorrow, then. I will let her fear abate and then I will claim her.
Aahm continues to speak to me, and after a moment I hear her pick something up. A breath later, something wet touches my face and I realize she is cleaning my skin with one of her strange skins she keeps folded and close by. I glance down and see that I am splattered with the blood of my enemy. Ah. Is this what frightens her? I remain still so she can cleanse my skin, and when she is satisfied, she puts the bit of material aside. I close my eyes, anticipating her touch. Something jerks on my hair, sending an annoying twinge up to my scalp. I hiss, startled, and her fear-scent immediately clouds the air. She holds up a comb and gestures at my hair, and I realize she is trying to groom me.
I study the comb for a moment. It has been a long time since I have seen such a thing. I have vague memories of this…from before. From my home. A flash of knowledge dances through my mind, and with it, a vision of other females, lingering around a bath and waiting to groom me, their giggles filling the air. I remember their beauty, and I remember how it pleased me that they wanted to wait on me.
Somehow that seems pale compared to the female at my side. The one with the bad leg and the delicate body and eyes that look so dark and deep that I want to lose myself in them. I grunt agreement when she gestures at my hair again, and remain still as she begins to gently comb through my hair.
She can do anything she likes to me, so long as it builds her trust in me.
AMY
I'll give Sam one thing—he's very patient when he wants to be.
It takes hours to brush through his thick, tangled hair. Hours and hours of gently working through knots, wincing each time I pull too hard and expecting him to lose his control and rage away. But he remains quiet and utterly still, and even when I work a particularly bad tangle, he says nothing and does not indicate if it hurts.
By the time I'm done, though, his nearly dry hair is the most gorgeous waterfall of liquid gold I've ever seen. It shimmers in the low light of sunset and looks like a molten river against his golden-bronze scales. I'm envious of such loveliness on a guy, and I can't resist petting it. “You're beautiful.”
He makes one of the noises I now know is pleasure and moves closer to me. I'm at the edge of the bed, with him at my feet, and I'm a little surprised when he puts his arms around my knees and puts his head in my lap. It reminds me just how much bigger he is than I am, and how warm he is. How kind he can be to me. I ignore the fact that he returned to me covered in someone else's blood and stroke his hair back from his horns and face. I think he's addicted to touches.
That works for me, since I'm addicted to touching him, too.
We remain like this for a long time, until my leg is aching and cramped from not moving and my stomach growls because I've missed meals today. It seemed more important to get him settled and back to himself than to eat, though I'm regretting it now. I keep stroking his hair, because he's calm and not snarling and black-eyed with anger.
“And now we have a new window and a breeze,” I murmur, trying to make the best of things. “So I guess in a way it works out.”
He lifts his head, and his eyes are tinged with black but are mostly gold. That's good. He reaches out to my now-dry T-shirt and touches my stomach. I know he's asking if I'm hungry, but I'm suddenly remembering that his head was between my thighs earlier. I think of the look of utter bliss he wore as he rubbed his entire face against my pussy. Oh god. I'm never going to forget that moment. “We can see if there are things to eat here,” I say loudly, flustered that I'm thinking about that kind of thing instead of eating. “I think there was a minibar that we didn't check two rooms over, remember?”
I get to my feet and my bad leg cramps up, making me stumble. It happens all the time, which is why I can't travel very far on my own. Sam is immediately there, though, and he lifts me into his arms, not like he usually does, settling me on his hip. This time he's got me like I'm a princess in a fairy tale, cradled against his chest. It makes my silly, romantic heart flutter.
He waits, and it's clear he's letting me steer. For some reason, I feel really grateful for that. Like we're a team instead of me being useless and flopping around like the invalid I am. I don't feel like I'm an inconvenience to him, and it's a rare pleasure. I point at the hallway, and off we go.
We find the other room and head for the minibar. This room (like mine) has a small kitchen in it, and a refrigerator. I found a couple of bottles of wine in my room, but they smelled like vinegar and I didn't want to try it. I'm hoping this place has something to eat, even if it's just bags of stale pretzels. I poke at the main fridge and don't find anything there, but there's a second fridge in the bedroom, and when I open it, my butt thumps to the ground in surprise.
This fridge is chock full of snacks.
Nothing healthy, of course. Nothing naturally made would last this long. But there's an entire row of half-melted candy bars, chocolate-covered candies, wafers, cookies, potato chips, and two rows of bottled water and sodas. I pull out a chocolate bar, fascinated. I'm drooling, it's been so long since I've had chocolate. “Oh wow,” I whisper, caressing the wrapper. Despite it being a little soft, it looks as if it's still held its shape.
Sam reaches past me and picks one up, sniffing the wrapper.
“This is some really good stuff, Sam. Wait and see.” I flip over the bar and carefully open the wrapper, running my finger along the seal until it falls open. I peel it back and sure enough, the gourmet chocolate has still held its shape. I break off a tiny square and, even though I'm beyond excitement at the thought of chocolate, I offer it to Sam.
He pushes my hand back toward me, indicating I should eat.
“You first. It's okay. I promise I'm going to eat some.” When he still refuses, I shrug and pop the piece into my mouth. Sweet flavor explodes on my tongue and it takes everything I have not to moan with pure joy. I might get a little teary-eyed, though. Chocolate. Not just any chocolate, but expensive, gourmet chocolate.
And I have an entire fridge full of the stuff. I'd been hoping for a few stale crackers, nothing more. I know this isn't a meal, but I'm too excited to care. I break off another piece and then lick my fingers clean of the smears the chocolate leaves behind. “Oh my god, this is so good.”
Sam grabs my hand and pulls it to his mouth, licking my fingers for me. Oh. There's nothing left there for him to clean off, but I don't think he cares. The look he gives me is sultry and full of promise.
“If you want some chocolate, I can give you some,” I tell him, feeling shy. I gently tug my hand free and get another flashback of the blissed-out expression on his face when he was between my legs. Oh goodness, it's going to take me weeks to get over that. Months. Years. Never.
I break off a piece for him and hold it out. Instead of taking it in his hand, he leans forward and takes it directly from my fingers, licking me again as he does. Oh, mercy. I feel a little flutter of excitement race through me as he chews, a thoughtful expression on his face. Part of me kind of hopes he doesn't like it—more for me—but part of me wants him to love something that I love. To see that humans aren't all awful, and that we can create wonderful things.
He swallows, licks his lips, and then brings my fingertips back to his mouth, licking them clean.
Well, that's distracting. I try to stay still, but I'm squirming by the time he's finished. Is it the ticklish rasp of his not-quite-human tongue that feels a bit like a cat's? Or is it that he's giving me a scorching look with his eyes as he tongues my fingers? Or is it that I'm still thinking about what we were doing earlier?
Might be a little of all of them. Whatever it is, I'm feeling it. My breasts feel tight and I know my nipples are hard, and I bet if I put my hand between my thighs, I'd be wet again. I wait for him to say something about it, but he only gestures to the chocolate bar, and then watches me with those intense eyes.
Am I disappointed that he wants chocolate more than me? I honestly don't know. Parts of me—naughty parts of me—are. But after he just killed another dragon? I don't know that I'm ready to jump back into bed with him. So chocolate it is. I break off another piece and offer it to him, but he pushes it back toward me. He wants to watch me eat. Oh. I take it in my mouth and savor the small square, rolling it on my tongue. Before I can lick my fingers clean of the melt, he takes my hand and does it for me. I wait for him to finish, then break off another piece and offer it to him. He makes the same gesture, and it's clear he wants me to eat it, again. When I do, he takes my hand and licks my fingers clean once more.
We finish the entire bar this way, and by the time it's gone, I'm restless and turned on, and his eyes are gleaming pure gold. I've never enjoyed something so much. I lick my lips and glance back at the mini-fridge. I don't want to leave this bounty now that we've found it, but I also don't want to eat it all in one sitting. These are things that should be savored. Enjoyed. Maybe we should move to this room? I glance around and it's not as nice a suite as mine, but it's got all its walls.
It also has a massive layer of dust, which I've gotten rid of back in my room. I hesitate, then decide we'll take this back with us. “Let's get pillowcases and fill them up to take this stuff back to our room, okay?” I figure we can move here as a back-up if it rains. But if the weather's nice?
A breeze won't hurt things.
I feel a little guilty as we bag up our stockpile of goodies. I can’t help but think of my sister, Sasha, and Emma. They’d flip if they saw all this chocolate. And candy to boot? Cookies? I know Emma’s got a sweet tooth for sure. I think about holding on to some of the treats and saving them to bring back to my sister and the others…but then it occurs to me. I don’t know when I’m going back…or if I am. Nothing’s certain with Sam. The thought makes me sad and takes some of the joy out of the moment.
What if I never see my sister again?