How to Drive a Dragon Crazy

by G. A. Aiken

  “You’re giving him your dried beef?”

  “I made sure to bring enough for him. Don’t worry. He’s my dog, I’ll take care of him.”

  “We should have left him behind.”

  “Oh, yes, I should leave my precious dog alone with strange dragons who still eat dog. Brilliant plan.” She looked up, frowned. “Why am I staring at your penis?”

  “Because it mesmerizes you?”

  “Can’t you put on leggings?”

  “I could.” Then he smiled, which just seemed to piss her off more.

  Her lip curled a bit, but she went back to feeding that damn dog rather than yelling at him.

  Éibhear took out some of his own food and ate while he watched Izzy. She pretended to ignore him, but he didn’t buy it. Not anymore.

  “How long have you had him?” he finally asked her about that damn dog.

  “Three years now.”

  “Do you ever bathe him?”

  “Whenever I bathe in a lake or river, he bathes. He loves the water.”

  “And yet he never seems very clean.”

  “He loves the water, but he also loves mud, blood, shit, cow urine—”

  “Wait. Specifically cow urine?”

  “Don’t ask me why. It’s just a thing he has.”

  “And you really don’t think he’s been spit up from the underworld?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “Because I’ve never seen this breed of dog before.”

  “That’s meaningless. The world is filled with things neither of us have seen. Besides”—she lifted the dog’s head—“how can you look in these eyes and think anything about my Macsen is evil?”

  “Because his one good eye is red?”

  “What?” She lifted his head more so she could look at the dog without moving. “Oh. That. That’s just the reflection of the light from the torch.”

  “If you need to believe that to get through the night.”

  “I can’t believe you’re afraid of a little dog.”

  “He’s not little and I’m not afraid. I just find him vile. Like rats. I find them vile too.”

  “But rats aren’t loyal and they carry disease.”

  “You have no way of knowing if that dog carries disease or not.”

  She let out a frustrated sigh. “Leave my dog alone.”

  “All right. But when he steals your soul in the middle of the night and tosses it into the lowest pits of one of the hells, don’t come crying to me.”

  Izzy, disgusted that anyone could not love the beast slobbering on her leg, pulled a Desert Land map from her travel bag and looked it over.

  “So where are you going to sleep?” she heard Éibhear ask her.

  “Sleep?” She looked up from the map. “Right here.”

  “Is there room?”

  Frowning, Izzy looked down at her bedroll and immediately sighed. Macsen was on his back, four legs relaxed and spread open, his snores filling the cave chamber. It wasn’t pretty, but it proved one thing. The dog had come to trust Éibhear because he never exposed his belly to anyone he didn’t trust.

  “He’ll make room for me,” she muttered, returning to her map.

  “I’m sure there’s truth to that. I know I’d make room for you.”

  Izzy lifted her gaze to lock on the dragon sitting across from her. He sat cross-legged, elbows resting on his big thighs, shiny blue hair falling into his face, bright silver eyes watching her close.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said.

  “About?”

  “We’ve been arguing for the last two days.”

  “So?”

  “And you still want me in your bed?”

  “I want you anyway I can get you.”

  Izzy didn’t even have to look to know that he was hard and ready. Perhaps, she reasoned to herself, any pussy sitting across from him would do, but she didn’t know.

  “You do understand we can’t keep this up, don’t you?”

  “I can keep it up for hours so—”

  “No, no.” Gods, this dragon! “I mean whatever is going on between us—we can’t keep this up.”

  “You don’t know what’s going on between us? Should I draw a diagram?”

  “I don’t need a diagram, Éibhear. I’m just saying that . . . it’s just that . . .” Izzy let out a frustrated breath. “What I mean is . . .”

  “What’s the matter, Izzy? Is my fine human form distracting you?”

  Yes! “No!”

  “No need to get snappy. It was just a question.”

  “I’m simply trying to explain that—”

  “Why don’t we forget about explaining anything right now.”

  “You may have a point,” she sighed out, rubbing her face with her hands.

  “Instead you can get naked and come sit on my cock and we can save explanations for another day.”

  Izzy’s hands covered her face and she moved a couple of fingers so that she could stare at the dragon with one eye.

  “I think I miss the days,” she mumbled around her hands, “when I used to get you flustered just by grabbing your tail.”

  “You still get me flustered by grabbing my tail, but that, too, can be a discussion for another day.”

  Izzy dropped her hands to her lap and gawked at him. “Do you really want me that badly, Éibhear the Blue?”

  “I want you more than my next breath. And yes, it does matter who’s sitting across from me. Since I’m guessing that’s what you were wondering.”

  Bastard. He did know her well, didn’t he? After all these years. After all they’d been through. Maybe he knew her better than most.

  “Izzy,” he said low before making his eyebrows dance.

  Izzy covered her mouth, but the laughter slipped through her fingers.

  “Well,” she finally said while getting to her knees. “You were nice enough to carry my dog. Guess I could make the sacrifice.”

  “The sacrifice? Yes, it’s always very nice to know that being with me is something you’re lowering yourself to do.”

  With her chain-mail shirt now resting on the snout of the snoring dog—and no, getting hit in the face with a shirt made of metal didn’t manage to wake up the idiot—and her bindings removed and tossed aside, Izzy now stretched across the small divide between them. Her hands were braced on either side of his hips and her mouth wonderfully close to his.

  Éibhear brought his hands up, framed her face. Izzy had grown so beautiful. The battle scars across her nose, cheek, and jaw only enhancing that beauty somehow.

  “You going to kiss me?” she asked. “Or just keep staring?”

  “I don’t really know yet.” He stroked his hands down her face, her neck. “I like being able to look at you without worrying that I’ll be battered into a blood-covered mess by three bastards who, after all these years, still violently abuse me.”

  Izzy smirked. “Funny, it looked like Daddy and the others got the worst of it.”

  “They started it. I was merely defending myself.”

  “You’re such a lying piece of—”

  “Now, now. Let’s not get vicious.” He tugged her a bit closer, brushed his lips against hers. “At least not yet.”

  Izzy slipped into his lap, her legs on either side of him, her arms resting on his shoulders. Éibhear kissed her while his hands slid down her throat and across her chest. He cupped her breasts; his thumbs brushed her nipples. Izzy groaned, her eyes closing.

  This wasn’t fair. The dragon had barely touched her and again she was melting in his hands, falling apart under his fingers. She should be toying with him, using him, making his life a living hell just for her cold amusement. Yet she seemed unable to do any of these things. Instead she dug her fingers into his hair, pulled him closer.

  Those big hands slid lower until they wrapped around Izzy’s waist. Then Éibhear leaned forward, pushing Izzy back, his mouth kissing her mouth, jaw, and throat. When she was bent back as far as she could go, one of Éibhear’s
hands released her waist and, seconds later, Izzy felt a finger pushed inside her, followed by another. She groaned louder, her body shuddering.

  Éibhear wrapped his lips around her nipple, tugging and teasing it with his tongue.

  Izzy’s body went hot, then broke out in a sweat. Her hands gripped Éibhear’s shoulders.

  Gods, she felt delirious. Crazed. She couldn’t think straight and felt like she had no control over her body.

  He moved to her other nipple, his teeth grazing the tip before he sucked it hard into his mouth and played with it using his tongue. And the whole time the two fingers he had inside her kept stroking in and out, his thumb occasionally brushing her clit. Not enough to make her come, but just enough to drive her insane.

  Izzy tried to close her legs, hoping to keep Éibhear’s hand right where it was, thinking maybe she could ride it until she came, but he stayed between her thighs, keeping them apart with his body.

  Unable to take any more, she shook her head, tried to pull away. Just to get a few seconds to breathe, to calm down so that she could manage all this. But the hand on her waist moved up her back until his hand cupped her shoulder and held her in place, keeping her captive.

  Izzy whimpered, desperate. She didn’t know what to do. She was confused, overwhelmed. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this intense, this out of control. No matter what she may have daydreamed when she was sixteen and had no idea what sex was really about, as a rational adult, Izzy knew sex with anyone shouldn’t be like this. Nothing should. It was too much, too good, too everything.

  She pushed at Éibhear’s shoulders and he finally loosened his grip. Relief and disappointment warred inside her as she started to drag herself away. But Éibhear took hold of her thighs, lifted them to his shoulders. Before Izzy could say a word, his head was between her legs and his tongue inside her pussy.

  Izzy grabbed the back of Éibhear’s head with every intention of pushing him away.

  Yes. That was her intention. Definitely. Absolutely.

  Too bad intentions meant nothing when faced with the most perfect tongue.

  Izzy twisted and turned, no longer trying to get away, but simply unable to fight her body’s response any longer.

  That perfect tongue moved up, finally settling on her clit, massaging it with the tip until he wrapped his lips around it and began tugging. By the second tug, she was sobbing. By the third, she was screaming, her back arching, her thighs tightening around Éibhear’s head until she was sure she must be killing him. Not that she cared. Not at the moment when nothing could distract Izzy from the orgasm violently ripping through her, tearing her apart from the inside out until she could do nothing but lie on the ground and whimper.

  Éibhear finally pulled away, his hands stroking her sweat-soaked body while he stretched out next to her. He pushed her hair off her face, gave her a soft smile. “You all right?”

  “I hate you,” she whispered. “I’ve always hated you.”

  “Lying won’t make this any easier, Iseabail.”

  “Shut up.”

  He laughed and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his body. She felt his hard cock pressing against her leg, but he seemed more than willing to wait for her.

  Of course that only made Izzy hate him more.

  Éibhear knew now why she was mad at him.

  Well, at first he didn’t. At first he was completely confused. Until, about twenty minutes later, when she’d climbed on top of him and straddled his waist, sliding his cock inside her. Then, with those light brown eyes he’d dreamed of more than a thousand times over the years gazing down at him, she rode him. Her hips rocking against him, the muscles inside her pussy squeezing and releasing his cock, until he thought he might go blind. Even worse, Izzy took her time, her hands stroking his chest, his shoulders. But it was her moans, the wetness of her pussy, the way her thighs gripped him so very tight that told him what he needed to know.

  So, yes, he understood why she was mad at him. Because he felt the same way. Éibhear knew she could ask anything of him and he’d move the suns to make it happen. Knew he’d do anything to keep a smile on her face, to keep her safe.

  Pissed off at himself, he gripped her waist and rolled over, pinning her beneath his body. She gazed up at him and he got the feeling she knew what he was doing. Trying to maintain control of an uncontrollable situation. But she didn’t make fun of him or tease him, simply leaned up until she could kiss him, her arms around his neck.

  No. He’d never have control of this situation, no matter how hard he might try. It was just impossible. So Éibhear didn’t bother fighting it anymore. What would be the point? Instead, he took her arms from around his neck, pinned them above her head, and fucked Izzy with everything he had inside him, knowing full well that Izzy was the one female who could handle it.

  With her body stretched out, stomach down, Izzy rested her head on her crossed arms and enjoyed the feeling of Éibhear’s hand stroking her legs and back.

  “Where did you get this scar from?” he asked, the tips of his fingers moving over the lines of the raised flesh along her back.

  “Not sure.”

  “Izzy, it’s at least eighteen inches long and dangerously close to your spine. How could you not be sure?”

  “Do you know how many battles I’ve been in? How many times a healer has worked on me? Sometimes they leave scars, sometimes they don’t. Besides”—she planted her elbow and propped her chin in her palm—“I used to hate sitting around, listening to older warriors talk about all their scars. Comparing them. Bragging. What’s the purpose? All that matters to me is that I’m still here with all me important bits.”

  Éibhear chuckled. “Now you sound like Ghleanna.”

  “She taught me much. So did Addolgar.”

  “My father’s siblings gave us all battlefield lessons. Although I think Aunt Ghleanna stopped talking to me some time ago.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently she had greater hopes for me than the Mì-runach.”

  “If the queen thinks the Mì-runach serve a purpose, it’s not for Ghleanna to question. Besides, from what I’ve seen so far, there’s no shame in what you lot do.”

  “Planning to start your own Mì-runach among your legions?”

  “Of course not. We don’t need a gang of crazed warriors charging into battle with nothing more than their rage and a couple of swords.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because we have Annwyl. She is our Mì-runach, we need no other.”

  Laughing out loud, Éibhear rolled to his back, Izzy joining him. And the pair continued to laugh and talk and fuck until the suns went down and they could start their journey again.

  Chapter 32

  For three nights they traveled and slept during the day. The third night when they couldn’t find a cave, Éibhear used his wings to cover Izzy and that stupid dog.

  Although he was grateful for his protective scales, he was even happier that he had his fur cape in his travel bag. He didn’t mind the heat much and it cut down on the sand that was getting into the crevices between his scales. Before they took flight each night, Izzy would have to help him clean out any areas that might affect his flying and he just willed himself to ignore the itching in the other places.

  Most Southland dragons who came to the Desert Lands—and there were many who loved it here—didn’t travel this way. Usually, they brought protective tents to set up each day. But the tents their group had originally brought with them were back with their stabled horses near the salt mines. Éibhear had no idea how much he’d wish he still had them.

  Still, it could be worse. He had his cape, the heat wasn’t destroying his will to live, and he had Izzy. Her constant chatter during the flights made the long nights bearable. She did spend less time talking to him and more time talking to that ridiculous dog, but at least it seemed to keep the damn thing calm. The dog mostly slept during flights and barked warnings during the day
when they were sleeping. Of course most of those warnings were about the big scavenger birds that were all over these lands. But once they realized that the dragon carcass lying under the hot desert suns wasn’t dead, they quickly flew off. It was still nice, though, to know the dog had some purpose other than to amuse Izzy with his constant drooling.

  Waking up just as the suns set, Éibhear lifted his wings carefully off a still-sleeping Izzy before he sat up and stretched.

  He pulled the map out and looked it over. Finally, they were nearing civilization. They were nearing Sefu.

  Yawning, Izzy turned over, her arms stretching wide. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him. She always smiled up at him when she first awoke, and each time she did, the power of it hit him right in the gut. But just as quickly, she frowned, as if remembering she normally didn’t have a good attitude when she first woke up.

  “Hello.”

  She grunted at him, and sat up.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Well enough.” She reached into her travel bag and took out a canteen. She drank from it while that idiot dog ran off to relieve itself.

  “Izzy, if you don’t mind another long night of flying, I’m thinking we should—”

  The dog snarled and Izzy held up her hand, cutting off Éibhear’s words. Even stranger, the dog walked backward toward them, teeth bared, hackles up. This was not the same reaction they’d been getting whenever some hungry bird got too close. This was something else.

  Since he knew Izzy understood the dog better than he did, Éibhear looked at her.

  “Shift to human,” she said low.

  “Turn your face away,” he ordered to protect her fom the flames that would come from his shifting. Once done, he grabbed his travel bag and pulled out a pair of leggings, cotton shirt, and boots.

  Éibhear had barely pulled his boots on when Izzy stood, her gaze focused straight ahead. By the time he also got to his feet, he could see the riders. They wore light armor and their horses were leaner than the Southland horses. And they were coming right for them.