Captured by the Alien Dragon

by Stella Cassy

  I find myself eager to give him what he needs. His body is a work of art, including his manhood, or should I say dragonhood? Kissing the head makes his stomach muscles flex. Remembering what it felt like when he pleasured me with his tongue, I set my mind to returning the favor. Surprised at my own enthusiasm, I bob my head on his generous endowment, taking a little more into my mouth each time. A sexy growl escapes from the back of his throat and his hand comes out, sifting through my hair and touching the side of my face.

  I experiment with different techniques, using my tongue to explore all the bumps and ridges along his shaft. When I run my tongue along the tiny crease between the ridges along his cock, he groans, grounding out deep, ragged verbalizations that aren’t quite words. Dragging emotions out of the stoic warrior thrills the hell out of me. His caudal snakes between my legs to tease me as I hollow out my cheeks, sucking.

  “You wouldn’t be getting excited sucking my thick cock would you, my precious little brooder?”

  Smiling around his gorgeous cock, I glance up at him. His eyes are almost glowing red with lust. The next thing I know he pulls me up to capture my lips. Instead of grinding me down on his cock, he turns me around and pushes me against the bench embedded in the wall. I brace myself on my forearms, grateful for the low water level, when he surprises me by leaning down to flick his forked tongue between my legs.

  When his tongue teases tight circles around my clit and then wraps around the tiny throbbing bundle of nerves, reality blurs into a haze of pleasure. The soft glow of the room and the scent of our lovemaking has a drugging effect on my senses. As I writhe beneath him, his wings wrap around me in a tender embrace, holding me still as he continues to pleasure me. In no time at all, he has me right where he wants me. I come, begging for his cock.

  Looking over my shoulder, I know he’s giving me an opportunity to decide what I want. If I don’t want him, he’ll stop. Instead I move back, taking him just as I like. The big warrior holds still while I pleasure myself on his thick cock. I love the way his rough hands skim over my back, claws trailing gently down my spine. It spikes my excitement and before I know it, I’ve pounded out one breathtaking orgasm and I’m going for number two. The moment it happens, Tarion gathers me into his arms and pulls me back against his chest. Three thrusts later and he stills inside me, shouting my name.

  Pulling me back to one side, he leans over to turn on the water and finishes filling the tub. He takes some oil from a pump on the wall and begins smoothing it over my arms and back. He’s taking special care when he touches my scars. I close my eyes as I try not to react to his touch. I hate the scars covering my back and upper arms, remnants of my time as a whipping girl for an alien princess.

  “You are upset. Is it the lovemaking?”

  Opening my eyes, I look up at him. “It’s the scars.”

  “Ah, the battle marks. They are lovely.”

  My face scrunches up into a confused expression. “They’re what?”

  Sliding his fingers from one to the other, he honestly seems impressed. “Battle marks are coveted among my people. We are difficult to mark and battle wounds prove one’s strength and resilience. I admire you for surviving poor treatment at the hands of your enemies.”

  Choking up, I try to make light of the situation by being flippant. “That’s me, strong and resilient.”

  Tarion’s voice turns serious. “Do not take that tone, my sweet. Strength is a quality human brooders rarely possess. That makes you better than all the rest.”

  I can’t help but smile at his smug and approving voice. “I suppose your father’s brooder doesn’t have one mark on her flawless skin.”

  “She does not. I plan to have all your clothing designed to display your fierce battle marks. It will make the males in my line envious and they will covet what is mine.”

  Laughing, I take some oil and rub it in to his chest. “I’m sure they all want scarred females.”

  “You laugh now, but when they are all trying to lure you from me, you will see that I am correct.”

  “If they dare to touch me, I promise you they’ll pull back a bloody stub.”

  His eyes light up. “I will fit you with my most prized dagger. Feel free to mangle any males who approach you.” Motioning with one hand, his voice becomes serious. “Of course for that to happen, they will need to fight their way through me.”

  “Wow, you sound like you’re going to keep me for real.”

  Cupping my chin, he tilts my face up. “You, my ferocious brooder, will be mine forever. I vow to you that under my protective wing you will never know hunger, thirst, or loneliness.”

  “Don’t forget all the thrilling action and adventure we’re going to have.”

  “That goes without saying, my sweet. You have the heart of a warrior. The young we make will be fit to rule the galaxy.”

  Grinning like a mad fool, I respond warmly, “You always know what to say to make my heart beat a little faster.”

  Drawing me close to his chest, I lay my head on his shoulder. “I always feel safe with you, handsome.”

  Before he can reply, klaxons sound, alerting us of incoming danger.

  Shooting me a worried look, Tarion mumbles, “I believe your talk about feeling safe with me has tempted fate.”

  “You’re wrong about that. That’s just the sound of action and adventure calling our name.”

  Standing, he brings me up along with him and sits me on my feet outside the tub. “No time for drying, grab a uniform.”

  Glancing over my shoulder at his belated comment, I’m already halfway to my clothing. He tosses me a soft square package and I’m thrilled to find it’s another of the self-forming suits. Pulling it on my wet body isn’t much fun, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Heck, I’m in such a rush that I forget all about looking at Tarion while he dresses. No matter how often I see him naked it’s never enough.

  Twirling my wet hair into a twist, I spear two long hair ornaments he gave me through the knot to keep it in place. Tarion jerks his chin at the door and rushes to the bridge to figure out what’s going on.

  14

  Carissa

  Being at his side and wearing one of his crew uniforms feels right. Rushing to the bridge to face danger together should trigger my anxiety, but it doesn’t because I’ve finally found my place in the verse. Tarion man and his crew are now my entire world. Come what may, I’ll do what I must to help them fend off whatever menace is lurking out there in the black of space. We shove our way through a melee of warriors, all rushing to get to their stations. No one seems to care as we’re working for a common cause.

  The blaring klaxons thump like ancient drums of war, causing something to awaken inside of me. I don’t know what it is, but it seems like a wild beast chomping at the bit to fight and protect. The bite on my shoulder throbs to the tune of the klaxons and I realize it’s because my heart is thumping to the same beat.

  As Tarion and I near the bridge, we see a grouping of ships growing closer in the view screen. Unfortunately, I recognize the design. The ships are all painted stark white, like their owners. The boxy design and red lights are like no other in the known verse. “Those ships are from the Pax Alliance. They’ve come for me.”

  Most of Tarion’s ships stayed behind on the pleasure planet. Even if he called them right now, the fight would be over by the time they got here. Tarion and Lehar are bent over a console, working out a strategy to fight off the alliance ships. My heart stutters in my chest at the thought of Tarion or any of his crew dying because of me.

  While they are distracted, I rush from the bridge without looking back. At a full run, I make my way to the hanger. They’re in danger because of me. I hesitate to guess what the penalty for harboring a killer is, but I imagine if they manage to survive, they’ll end up in slave collars. I can’t let that happen.

  When the hanger doors open, no one notices me slip in. The place is a madhouse. Most of Tarion’s crew are busy fueling the last of
their fighters. The others are glued to the communi-channel on the bridge in order to get the latest information on their defense plan. I manage to board one of the ships sitting in the back of the hanger without garnering notice. Engaging the locking mechanisms, I drop down into the pilot’s seat. My hands fly over the controls, quickly starting the pre-launch sequence.

  My eyes lock on the gently glowing console as I work out the logistics of saving Tarion and his crew. I’ve only got two choices, make a run for it or turn myself in. I can’t decide which will stop the attack sooner. Truth be told, both options suck because they separate me from the dragon warrior.

  If I turn myself over, they might still attack Tarion’s ship. As I consider surrendering, I feel the huge ship rock beneath me. The Pax have fired on us. Not a full ten seconds later, the sound of pulse cannons thud in the background as Tarion returns fire. Turning myself in is no longer an option. Since Tarion returned fire, they won’t let him survive. The Pax are real assholes that way.

  My only other option is to run. I reach out to fire the engine and stop with a finger over the button. Images of my crimson dragon’s haggard face rise in my mind. The last time I ran, it nearly broke his spirit. Running might not keep the Pax from destroying his ship, either. I’m certain a few of their ships will follow me, but most will stay behind to deal with Tarion because he’s the bigger threat. They won’t risk him bearing down on them while they pursue me. I can’t risk both of us being brought down individually. Maybe we’re stronger together.

  I’m getting ready to haul myself back out of the fighter when I consider another option. Opening the communi-channel to the insectoid frequency, I use my fingers on the scratch pad to draw images of the Pax vessels, each with three of the red chits they use to represent thousand credit increments. I slap a distress icon on it and hit send. Hell, it’s a one in a million shot. I don’t know if any of the insectoid vessels are close enough to respond, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind. Since no one else will initiate trade or communication with them, they may see responding to a Drakon distress call as a way to establish an alliance. I can only pray that turns out to be the case.

  Jumping out of the fighter does not go unnoticed. Unsure how to respond to their surprised stares, I wave and smile before ducking out to head back to the bridge. If nothing else, I can provide moral support for the big sexy dragon and stay at his side if the worst happens. It’s the least I can do for the man intent on putting himself and his crew in harm’s way to protect me.

  Thinking back on the dozen or so dogfights I’ve seen in my time, I know we can’t possibly win in a head on battle of brute force. Perhaps my intimate knowledge of the way the Pax conduct battle will give us the edge we need.

  Desperation makes a person do strange things, take risks they’d otherwise shy away from and innovate in a way they never thought of before. I suddenly realize this is the edge humans have over most other species. Smiling to myself, I realize that I do have something unique to bring to the fight.

  15

  Tarion

  Noticing movement in our peripheral vision, Lehar and I turn at the same time to see Carissa leaving the bridge. “Shall I go after her, sir?”

  Turning back to the task at hand, I shake my head. “Leave her be. I will dry her tears myself once the battle is won. As much as I’d like to leave in the face of battle and run off to see that she is well, I’m more concerned with ensuring our ship isn’t blown up by a superior force.”

  We do not have the language of the Pax in our translation matrix. Though I am not usually one to complain, their angry yapping over the communi-channel has me frustrated, and I find myself asking, “Is it me, or is the translator taking forever to find the base code for their language?”

  “Since the Pax started showing up to trade more frequently in this sector of space, I’ve been meaning to locate a translation program in case we ran into them. As it stands, we’ll have to break the code and formulate a rudimentary translation matrix on the fly.” Lehar adds with frustration, “This is not what we need right now.”

  As soon as Lehar finishes speaking, the translator kicks in. “You have stolen property belonging to the Pax Alliance on your vessel. Stand down your weapons.”

  Clearing my throat, I open my end of the communi-channel and stare down the pale white creature who has been shouting at me. “Tarion of the Hielsrane does not trade in stolen merchandise.” That’s a lie of course, but I’m hoping he doesn’t know for sure.

  The look of derision on his face is accented by the sight of his tiny mouth twisting into a smirk. “Your reputation precedes you, Tarion of the Hielsrane.”

  I’m not surprised he’s heard of me. Unfortunately, that’s not working in my favor today. Folding my arms over my chest, I respond indignantly, “To fire on my ship is an act of war. The Drakon will not allow such an insult to go unpunished.”

  Stepping forward, the creature’s large black eyes shine with dark humor. “Stow it, Captain Hielsrane. I’m aware the Drakon trade fire with each other and every other species in the verse with alarming regularity, so let’s not pretend my doing so is out of the ordinary.”

  He’s got me on that one, but I’m a stubborn male. “Who are you and what exactly do you want from me?”

  The small white creature’s large boxy head wobbles slightly as he speaks. “I am Captain Emf'phet. The Pax Alliance has tasked me with securing the return of certain valuables, which our scans verify are on board your vessel.”

  Smoothing down the front of my uniform, I feign boredom. “You’re wasting a lot of my time. Can you get to the point?”

  He responds curtly, “You will turn over slave 2701, the cube of chromite and the Class D vessel the slave escaped in. If our property is damaged, you will be responsible for making that right as well.”

  He apparently has not heard of our creed. Once plunder is in our hold, we never give it back. I tilt my head in mock confusion, widening my eyes at the accusation and state innocently, “I’m not familiar with slave 2701. Can you describe him to me?”

  The older Pax captain is not falling for my antics. In fact, he’s beginning to lose patience with the whole situation. His voice turns menacing. “Don’t play games with me, Captain. A reward has been posted for her return and I intend to collect it. Your cooperation is required by law.”

  Truth be told, my computer’s monotone translator has more warmth than he does, judging by his expression on the view screen. The thought of Carissa being helped by such people makes me double my resolve to obtain her freedom.

  Moving slowly, I plop down at a console. “Hold on, let me scan my manifest to see if we might have this slave you’re looking for on board. If we do and I can find an outstanding bounty for her, I might consider turning her over to you.”

  Lehar turns his back to the view screen and frowns at me. We both know that I’m playing for time until all my fighter drones are programmed and ready to launch. It shouldn’t take but a couple more microns. I begin scanning through the assortment of wanted advertisements that were blasted over the communi-channel in the last lunar. He’s looking for my new brooder. I recognize the number on her bounty.

  It sickens me to hear the small white alien refer to Carissa by a slave number. I suddenly realize how convenient it is to refer to a person by designation rather than name.

  I would have done the same a lunar ago. It’s amazing what love can do to a perfectly reasonable warrior. Frustrated, I turn to the inglorious bastard. He’s still going on and on about the condition of their property. The next words out of his mouth seal his fate with me.

  “If the slave has been used as a brooder, any and all young she produces as a result of that contact will, by law, belong to the Pax Alliance. Do not think to stall us until she has completed the regeneration cycle.”

  I realize Carissa is correct. People without a soul find sanitized ways to discuss property and civil rights, which enables them to talk about gross injustice in a polite manner, t
hereby allowing them to avoid repercussions for their behavior. Growling, I have to force myself not to shift into my fighting form. Captain Emf'phet seems startled at the sound that emanates from my throat. It stops him in his tracks.

  “I have a response for your absurd request.” There is half a micron of silence while he waits for my answer. Shooting a quick glance at Lehar, he nods, eager for a good fight. Turning back to the view screen, I see that the startled Pax captain is now glaring me.

  “My answer is no. She will not be returned to you. I found her in the black, far from a habitable planet, running out of oxygen and food. She would be dead if not for our ship. Since she was found in a nearly derelict vessel in the black of space, you have no legal claim on the brooder. It is unfortunate for you that you couldn’t manage to secure one small human female. That she out-smarted you speaks to your weakness and incompetence.”

  Appearing none too happy, he knows that I’m correct in my interpretation of the law. She was one step away from being space junk when we found her. It used to be that one could not claim a vessel with living beings on board. Several species made a strong argument that taking ships destined to be delicts before the crew expired was an act of compassion. The Intergalactic Council agreed that shadowing a ship with no hope of making port before the occupants died was a barbaric practice. They quickly enacted laws to allow the culling of such vessels with the thought that a life of slavery was better than death. The captain’s annoyed voice draws me back to the task at hand.

  “I’m authorized to increase the bounty by half in exchange for the slave being returned unharmed.”

  Taking a step closer to the view screen, I jerk my chin up defiantly. “You dare make demands of Tarion of the Hielsrane? It’s clear you have no idea who you’re speaking to.”