by Tasha Black
Tyro
Tyro stood at the end of the dock, watching the sunset turn the water fiery red.
Their neighbors, Agatta and Nesmarq, were going to take care of Atlas for a few days. They had all become fast friends after they began working together on ideas for the council and learned how much they had in common, including a little one of their own, just about the same age as Atlas. They’d been absolutely delighted at the idea of an extended playdate for the boys.
He watched his child get smaller and smaller, cradled in Agatta’s strong arms, as Nesmarq rowed the boat to the next dock down from theirs.
Saylin sat on the boat as well, the large helper droid looking a bit out of place in the romantic scene. He had insisted on accompanying the neighbors in order to help with the baby.
But Tyro knew he was really performing his primary duty, keeping the youngling from harm.
And Tyro was grateful for it. He would rest easily, knowing that he’d be able to hear the droid’s alarm if anything went wrong. The next dock over was barely a wing flap away for a dragon.
Not that he had much rest in mind. He was going to be tied up for the next few days.
The breeze carried the scent of Myrrish soap pearls from the yurt, and he nearly groaned with desire. Phoebe was in there now, bathing and preparing for him to claim her as his own.
The idea filled him with wild lust, even as he tried to temper it with restraint.
Just as he had been honest with her about Saana, she had been honest with him about Cash, who was probably halfway back to his home by now, with a renewed promise of a strictly business partnership from Phoebe and her family.
Phoebe was adamant that Cash had never so much as touched her, and neither had anyone else, not until Tyro.
Though the dragon in his chest was exultant at this news, Tyro himself felt the weight of responsibility of the task ahead of him. He was not merely claiming Phoebe tonight, he was initiating her into the world of sensuality.
By all the gods, he would make her love it, even if he died trying to hold back his own violent desire. He wanted her to crave him as much as he craved her.
Her shadowy figure appeared against the wall of the yurt, all curves and graceful movement.
It was time.
He took a deep breath of the crisp night air and headed for the door.
Time seemed to lose all meaning, the short walk down the dock stretching to an eternity.
He opened the door and she was waiting.
“Tyro,” she murmured.
Her hair was damp and darker than usual, her scent too clean and fresh.
I will make you sweat and scream.
“Phoebe,” he said as calmly as he could.
She moved to him so happily she practically floated, flowing into his arms and making him delirious with her warmth and softness.
He bent to kiss her, tasting her sweet lips chastely at first, then plundering her mouth when she sighed and pressed herself against him.
She whimpered a little and then pulled back as if surprised at herself.
“You need me, love,” he told her gently. “We need each other.”
She smiled up at him and his heart felt like it was burning in his chest.
He kissed her again, trying desperately to hold himself back.
But she slid her little hands under his shirt, as if hungering for his flesh against hers.
He helped her lift it off and peeled off his breeches too, stripping quickly until he stood before her naked as if he were her servant on a pleasure cruiser.
Her eyes were bright with lust as her gaze caressed his chest, abs, and down to rest on his cock, which throbbed helplessly for her, thick and proud.
Her mouth was parted slightly and he did not know if it was desire or fear that kept her eyes trained on him.
“My sweet mate,” he said softly. “I will not take you until you are ready. Let me kiss you and love you. Do not be afraid. I will not claim you until you beg.”
Her eyes snapped up to his and he watched as she slid her index finger down the clasp holding her robe.
The silky fabric slid down her body to pool on the floor at her feet, as if she were the statue of Venaed emerging from the pools of Ignis-7.
Tyro joined it on the floor, grasping her naked hips in his hands, and nuzzling the tender flesh of her inner thighs.
She gasped, but didn’t pull away.
He pressed his mouth to her belly and nearly purred with satisfaction when her hands touched his shoulders, tentatively at first, then moved to tangle in his hair.
When he nuzzled her breasts, she whimpered again, nipples taut as if begging for his tongue.
He licked one into his mouth, loving the sounds she made.
He moved to the other and back again, going mad with her every cry.
When her hips began to tremble in his hands, he knew it was time.
He stood, towering over her once more.
“Bed,” he heard himself say, in a voice that was thick with lust. “Now.”
25
Phoebe
Phoebe fell back on the bed, her whole body surging with desire.
She had never felt this way before, drunk with lust, so needy that the movement of the air in the room seemed to tease her heightened senses.
Tyro stood over her, his muscled body blocking out the lamplight.
She reached for him wordlessly, her soul aching for his.
He crawled onto the bed, his weight shifting her as if she were on a choppy sea. He stopped when he was between her legs, parting her with one big hand and then lowering his dark head to press his lips to her.
Phoebe cried out, lifting her hips to meet his mouth, shameless in her search for relief from the lust that held her in its thrall.
Tyro growled and latched his mouth onto her, licking and sucking, feeding on her as she moaned and begged.
Waves of pleasure lifted her, she was close, so close, her body taut and ready. But he pressed one last kiss to her, and kissed his way up her belly and breasts to cage her head in his arms.
She had been afraid of this moment, at least a little.
Now she was desperate to have him inside her.
“Phoebe, what do you want?” he growled.
“I want you,” she moaned.
“Forever?” he asked.
“Yes, forever,” she told him, gazing into his dark eyes.
“There will be pain,” he warned her.
“I want it all,” she gasped.
“Then you are mine,” he told her.
She swore she heard the voice of the dragon in chorus with his. The sound sank into her bones, and she moaned with need for them both.
Tyro took himself in his hand, his jaw clenched, eyes burning.
She kept her eyes open, terrified that if she closed them, he would stop.
He pressed himself against her, his cock huge and throbbing, sending thrills through her. For a moment she wondered if it was even possible for her to take him in.
There was an instant of pinching pain as he pressed slowly inside her, stretching her until she gasped.
“Gods, Phoebe,” he groaned, holding himself perfectly still, as if allowing her to accommodate herself to his girth.
And then the pain was gone, replaced by a sense of desperate urgency.
“Please,” she whimpered, trying to lift her hips, though his weight pinned her down.
He roared and dragged himself out of her, sending her flying when he thrust into her again.
She clung to him, her body singing.
He thrust again, deep and slow.
Phoebe was delirious with the pleasure of it. She sank her nails into his arms, hips quivering.
“Mine,” he groaned with each thrust. “Mine, mine, mine.”
The pleasure lifted her up and she was lost in it, desperate for the spark that would push her over the edge and end this torment.
“Please,” she moaned.
His eyes went hazy
with lust and he eased a hand between them, massaging her clitoris with a calloused thumb.
Phoebe hung on the air for a breathless moment and then the pleasure crashed down on her in waves.
She cried out, clinging to him as she felt him swell impossibly and then shout out his own pleasure as he jetted and pulsed inside her, sending her into a delirium of ecstasy that seemed almost endless.
At last, he collapsed on her chest.
She could hear her heart beating in her ears.
Or maybe that was his.
A hush seemed to have fallen over the lake, even the birds had stopped their cries. She closed her eyes, relishing this feeling of oneness with the man she loved.
“How do you feel, my mate?” he asked her, rolling over and pulling her onto his chest.
“Incredible,” she whispered, smiling.
“It doesn’t hurt?” he asked.
“It only hurt for a minute,” she told him. “And then… oh, Tyro.”
She would be overcome by that memory forever, she was sure of it.
He smiled at her, his gaze hooded.
“Do you need anything?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Something to eat?” he offered. “A glass of water? We have to keep up our strength, and we only have a few minutes.”
“Until what?” she asked.
But she felt it already, the inevitable pull that threatened to turn her inside out unless he claimed her again.
Her nails sank into his flesh as she pulled him back in.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Yes, yes, yes.”
26
Phoebe
Phoebe stood at the crest of the hill where it all began, overlooking the frontier moon of Clotho from the exact spot where she’d first laid eyes on it.
The breeze ruffled her familiar lavender gown and lifted her hair as she let her gaze fall over the lush blue and green landscape. She took in the wooded crest, the small village, and the shimmering lake below.
Her hand went to the single camellia bloom she wore in her hair, to make sure it was still in place. She had almost given up on her struggling little plant until one of the neighbors had shown her the trick of planting it alongside a handful of local herbs that would help it maintain the conditions it needed to thrive.
And now, much like Phoebe herself, it seemed perfectly happy in its new home.
“Can you believe we’re up here again?” Aurora asked from just behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Phoebe turned to her friend, happy to hear the mischief in that contralto voice once more, and even more happy to see Aurora’s fiery hair down and free. It was good to see that the Fox didn’t have to hide anymore.
Luna, the third member of their little group of moon-moms, came into view.
“I get why we came up here for the wedding,” Luna huffed, climbing up the hillside to join them. “But did we really have to resurrect these dumb gowns?”
The woman had all been wearing the eggplant-colored dresses when they arrived on Clotho, and they left very little to the imagination.
“I don’t know about your mates, but Tyro really appreciates the cut of this thing,” Phoebe laughed, glancing down at her plunging neckline. “Besides it’s good luck for the three of us to match. And it’s not like the general store sells wedding gowns. It was this or brown and yellow gingham. Believe me, I checked.”
“Hey, if it’s good enough for the sheriff, it’s good enough for you two,” Aurora said, giving them a monstrous wink.
She had recently been appointed interim sheriff, but the buzz around town was that she was a lock for the full-time gig.
“Where’s your badge?” Luna asked Aurora.
“I can’t believe you had to ask her that,” Phoebe said. “You’re just setting her up.”
“Why?” Aurora asked innocently. “Where do you think it is?”
“Your garter,” Phoebe said, rolling her eyes.
“Wrong,” Aurora cried triumphantly, “it’s in my bra. My blaster is in my garter.”
Aurora lifted her gown so they could see a regulation sheriff’s blaster tucked into the lace garter that encircled her thigh.
“Please tell Kade to be careful,” Phoebe advised her, raising an eyebrow.
“Tell me to be careful about what?” Kade asked, his deep voice carrying on the breeze from somewhere farther down the hill.
“They’re here,” Luna squeaked, her hands going automatically to her hair and dress.
“You look amazing,” Phoebe assured her.
The three grabbed each other’s hands instinctively and Phoebe couldn’t help remembering the last time they were up here, clinging to each other.
She had been so frightened.
And she had been so wrong about so many things.
The sound of singing rose to meet them from the hillside below.
“What the heck?” Aurora said.
This was supposed to be a very simple ceremony with just the three women, their mates, and the babies, presided over by the magistrate.
But as Phoebe stood, her eyes peeled for Tyro, she was greeted by the voices of dozens of friends and neighbors, humming the anthem of Clotho.
First Noxx appeared on the hillside, his hair dark and his eyes darker when he set his sights on his mate. Phoebe swore she could feel Luna blushing without even looking at her.
Kade arrived next, his green eyes lighting up when he saw his red-haired mate waiting for him.
At last Tyro joined his brothers at the crest.
He wore his full battle regalia, silver epaulets gleaming in the sunlight, leather crossing his bare chest, leaving thick muscles on full display.
They locked eyes and she could feel the electricity all over again.
The first few days after the claiming had been spent in full service to the thrall. Phoebe didn’t remember eating or sleeping, though they must have done both of those things at some point.
Even a week later it was hard to accomplish simple tasks without surrendering to the dragon’s need to mate.
They had managed to care for Atlas once the neighbors brought him home, and make a few plans for the first council meeting, but that was about it.
And now that she had spent an hour away from him, the thrall threatened to begin all over again.
She wasn’t sure whether to be joyful or afraid.
“It gets easier,” Luna whispered to her. “A little at least. Eventually…”
Her neighbors, Agatta and Nesmarq, arrived next on the crest, both of them singing for all they were worth. Agatta was cradling Atlas, and Nesmarq held an armful of fragrant flowers.
Slowly, the rest of the well-wishers arrived, various friends carrying baby Lyra, baby Sol and a dozen more bouquets of native flora.
The magistrate called Luna and Noxx forward and asked them to join hands. She spoke the words of the ceremony as she braided flowers around their forearms.
It was unlike any Terran wedding Phoebe had ever attended, but the idea was the same. They were standing under the sky, asking the heavens and their friends to guide them in caring for each other.
Compared to a mating bond, it was probably just a silly formality. But it meant the world to Phoebe and her friends.
She watched as Noxx devoured Luna’s mouth with a passionate kiss.
Then Aurora and Kade went forward to say their words and have their arms bound together with flowers.
Aurora’s blue eyes were suddenly filled with tears when it was time for the kiss, and Phoebe felt her own eyes filling in sympathy.
This was such a happy moment for all of them.
The next thing she knew, Tyro was offering her his arm.
“Don’t be frightened,” he purred as they moved forward.
She wanted to tell him she wasn’t afraid, that she was happy, so happy.
But when she opened her mouth there was a lump in her throat too big to speak over, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
; “Phoebe,” he breathed, stopping to take her by the shoulders. “Phoebe what’s wrong? Have you…have you changed your mind?”
She shook her head, smiling through the tears. “The opposite,” she managed. “I’m… I’m…”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m so happy,” she sobbed.
He pulled her tight to his chest and she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of leather and man, and the cooler, stranger hint of the dragon within.
“Shall we get married now?” he whispered into her hair.
“Yes,” she said. “But hurry.”
Desire was unfurling in her belly as if it would fly away with her.
We cannot tear each other’s clothes off in front of all our friends and neighbors, she reminded herself.
But the temptation was real.
Tyro squeezed her hand and led her to the magistrate.
Time seemed to stand still as the flowers bound them together, and the words were spoken.
At last they were released and Tyro was wrapping her up in his arms.
There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to thank him for. This mate of hers had given her the space and faith to let go of old fears, and to step up to be herself, separate from her land and her possessions.
He had fully supported her when she made a plan, and then sent Cash home with word to her father that he should work out a water deal that gave Cash’s family right-of-first refusal if the camellia farm was ever sold.
She knew Tyro would back her play, no matter what.
Phoebe and Tyro and Atlas were happy right where they were. They could spend their off-years visiting her father on Terra 212, or he could come to them and learn all about submerged farming.
But Phoebe’s life wasn’t tied up in that land anymore.
It was tied up in her family.
And that was just the way she wanted it.
As Tyro’s lips crashed down on hers, the sizzle between them still new, yet somehow as old as time, she knew she didn’t need to say the words.
He understood.
He always would.
***
Thanks for reading Tyro!
