Man Who Should be King

by Mlyn Hurn

  Abruptly Syranna spun away from the mirror. She had no business thinking about seductions, or broad shoulders and muscular arms, either. Her life was here, not on her father’s home world. She belonged here, on her mother’s home planet, where the mist was thick and heavy, clouding nearly everything in mystery and shadow. Her grandfather had convinced her that she had much more of her mother’s blood running through her veins than her father’s, and therefore Mystonia was the only place she would ever truly feel at home and be at peace.

  A noise drew her attention and she turned to find the three green dragons playing on her bed. Walking across the room, she climbed onto the bed and stretched out on her back. AnnaBelle was the first to leave the others and scramble up to sit on her stomach.

  “Ouch!” Syranna said softly as the littlest dragon kneaded herself a place to curl up into a ball and rest her head. Closing her eyes, she listened to AnnaBelle’s soft purring sounds along with her brothers’ scuffling and squabbling chuffing sounds. It would be so easy to just fall asleep…

  Chapter Eleven

  Marcus opened Syranna’s bedroom door quietly, juggling the tray with a bowl of food for her “babies” and a bottle of wine for them to share. Immediately he realized that the noise had stopped when he entered the room, closing the door behind him. Crossing to the bed, he was completely awestruck by the beautiful vision of Syranna lying on the bed. Her silky robe had become displaced and revealed almost half of each breast’s inner curve. If she had not had a dragonet asleep on her stomach, he could have enjoyed a full view of her breasts.

  As he set the tray down on the bedside stand, he quickly moved the bowl with the food to the wood chest at the foot of the bed. Without a second’s pause, Fitzy, as he was starting to call him, and his namesake scrambled toward the bowl. Their loud eating style stirred Syranna and she opened her eyes.

  “Oh, hello! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I can be pretty quiet, when the need arises.” He watched as Syranna came up on her elbows. While he couldn’t say with complete certainty, he was pretty sure she was unaware that her new position pulled her robe back and treated him to the sight of her naked breasts.

  “Does that kind of need…uhm…come up very often?”

  If Marcus didn’t know the woman in front of him was a princess he would think she were one of the royal courtesans that proliferated many of the castles and palaces throughout the worlds of Vikalla, Kallas and Kalledane. Remarks like that would have been highly suggestive made by a different sort of woman. Yet he couldn’t stop his response to her near-naked beauty. Clearing his throat, he spoke.

  “Perhaps you should wake up AnnaBelle.”

  “You can pick her up and put her on the chest. Just gently push her head to the food before it’s all gone.”

  Marcus answered her smile by turning and picking up a second bowl. “I thought of that.” He paused; seeing how peacefully the little dragon was sleeping, he set the dish back down. Removing his shirt and boots, he lowered himself to lie beside Syranna, across the bed. A moment later, she settled back down as well.

  “That was thoughtful of you,” Syranna murmured, and Marcus heard the surprise in her voice.

  “I can do that every now and then.”

  He watched as Syranna eased her fingers beneath the little dragon, lifting her gently and then setting her on his upper stomach. She then rolled onto her side and looked at him. He noticed that she had not yet made any effort to restore her robe to order and he was loath to say a word that might break the casual yet intense intimacy he felt between them.

  Slowly he became more aware of the light weight and warmth seeping into his body through the small dragon resting on his stomach. He could feel her tiny breathing meshing with his as she adjusted to her “new bed.” It was a strange feeling, as he didn’t disturb the obviously deep slumber of the infant dragon in favor of his own pleasure or need for sleep. Closing his eyes, he recalled seeing one of his men playing with an infant of a camp follower during the war. The man had lowered the child to lie on his chest, who had promptly fallen asleep. Even when the woman brought him food, he had not moved for fear of waking the child.

  Now he knew why. Of course, he knew there was no comparison between a child and an animal, but he recognized the protective needs being aroused within him. Marcus was not used to feeling protective toward anyone but his soldiers. And they were all men who had served proudly during the war. It didn’t make much sense for him to have any feeling for a dragon, of all things!

  Then it hit him like a rock—he cared because Syranna cared!

  He must have tensed or jerked, because the little dragon was suddenly moving and waking up. He could hear her making some kind of mewling noises. Immediately Syranna was lifting her off of him and sliding off the bed. She carried AnnaBelle to the water dish, which was now on the chest at the foot of the bed. Sitting up, Marcus watched as she gently guided the little dragon’s mouth to the water. He grabbed the extra bowl he’d brought and carried it around to where Syranna stood quietly, watching AnnaBelle drink.

  “Don’t set it down yet, or they might come back for more.” Syranna gestured to where his namesake and Fitzwalter had settled down to sleep, nestling into one another. When AnnaBelle lifted her head from the water, Syranna took the bowl of food and set it down. The female dragon immediately turned and began eating.

  Marcus was surprised when he felt Syranna reach for his hand, tugging him back toward the bed. Unable to believe that she was bringing him willingly into her bed, he kept his mouth shut. He let Syranna pull him down onto the mattress beside her. When she pushed him onto his back and began caressing his naked chest, he said a silent prayer. Closing his eyes, he savored the feel of her small, soft hand stroking over his skin. He jerked in surprise when he felt her mouth close over his right nipple. While his mind was still coping with that sweet sensuality, he felt her fingers plucking and teasing his left nipple.

  Lost in a haze of growing sensuality, Marcus lifted his hand, threading his fingers through her hair. It felt like silk against his flesh as he cupped the back of her head. He jerked once again in surprise as he felt her hand move down his stomach and release the fastening of his trousers. Her boldness shocked him in the best possible way when her small hand closed around his hard cock a moment later. Maybe he had died and this was heaven.

  Syranna lifted her mouth from his nipple and shifted in the bed. Marcus opened his eyes and saw that she must have felt constrained by her robe because a second later she shrugged her shoulders and let it fall to her waist. Using both hands, she pulled his pants down, completely freeing his cock. Stripping the rest of his clothes and tossing them to the floor, Syranna discarded her robe as well. Straddling his lower legs, she caressed his thighs.

  “God! Syranna!” Marcus groaned under the soft, tentative stroking of her hands. “Go on, sweetheart, touch me like you did a moment ago, please…”

  Her hands curled around his cock a moment later. “Yes!” Marcus sighed as he exhaled. It felt amazingly sweet and arousing to have her hands stroking over his skin. Yet he sensed her lack of experience, which only reinforced the physical evidence he’d had of her innocence.

  “Just stroke your hands up and down, Syranna,” he told her hoarsely, moaning when she quickly and deftly repeated the moves. He didn’t instruct her movements, yet a few seconds later one hand slid down and cupped his sac. As he gloried in her gentle caress, he was still unprepared for the rush he experienced once she began massaging his scrotum. For a moment, he had the conscious thought that if she was this good without prior knowledge, what would she be like—

  “God! Honey! Yes!” he cried out when he felt the unexpected heat of her mouth enclose the head of his cock. Damn! This felt sweet and hot and forbidden. Looking at her head with her mouth sucking on him was too much. Reaching down he grabbed her upper arms. “Syranna, darling, I wish I could let you go on…I need to be inside you. I can’t wait, my love,” he murmured as he quickly swi
tched their positions. “Dear God, woman, you make me so hot!”

  Seconds later he loomed over her. Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her sweetly and gently for a moment. Then his fingers moved between her upper thighs and inside her wet lips. It pleased him to feel that she was already wet. His mouth opened and kissed her like she was the last drink of water in the desert. From there his lips slid down her face and neck and onto her chest before he worked his way back up the nearest mountain and captured her nipple. Drawing the turgid flesh inside, his tongue teased around the tight bud. Sucking her nipple felt like he had finally found his elixir to happiness. It was just like when he’d been inside her and had the strange sense of being home.

  Carefully, he slid his finger forward and eased it past the folds of flesh. He knew he’d found the perfect spot when Syranna cried out the next second.

  “Oh my God! Oh! Oh!”

  Marcus began wiggling his finger around her clit, pressing it. Slipping back out for more lubrication, his finger returned, wet and slippery. Her hips were quickly writhing and jerking in response to his touch. Two of his other fingers slipped into her heat, curving forward to find that little fleshy spot. Without pausing, he stimulated her clit and g-spot together. He watched her face closely and when her orgasm began, his fingers deserted her cunt, replaced by his cock.

  Thrusting into her tight, wet flesh, his thrusts quickly took up the same pleasuring movements. Marcus watched Syranna’s face as he moved in and out of her body. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted as she gasped for air. His eyes lowered and he could see her breasts bouncing each time their hips met or her hips jerked. The feel of her body squeezing and milking his cock was too much to hold out against, and he thrust forward deeply and shot his seed into her body. It seemed much too short as he emptied his balls of their juice, wishing he could stay inside her sweet, tight heat forever.

  Reluctantly he pulled from her body, liking the sucking sound of his large cock leaving her tight cunt. Falling to his back on the bed, he gasped quickly and repeatedly, pulling in huge gulps of air into his lungs. He was dimly aware of Syranna pulling the covers up and over them before she rested her head on his chest. Marcus knew he should say something, but words seemed beyond his ability just then, and he thought it was better to say nothing than to say the wrong thing and spoil this wonderful mood. He fell asleep while caressing her silky hair.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Holy Hell! If I catch you, you little fire-breathing demon, I’ll make it so you can never blow flames at anyone ever again!”

  Marcus sat straight up in bed. He’d heard the yelling coming from outside the bedroom door. Beside him he felt the mattress shift as Syranna got out of the bed. Obviously she’d been asleep as well.

  “What the devil…? Uther! You old fool, stop chasing it! You’re only making it worse!”

  Marcus was sure the second voice was Darmand’s, especially when he heard the same voice a moment later.

  “Damn it all! The little bugger bit my toe! Come back here!”

  Syranna already had her robe on and was flying out the door by this time, three brightly colored harnesses trailing out of one clenched fist. A few seconds later, he heard her voice added to the fray.

  “Stop it, both of you! The more you keep yelling and screaming and stomping around, the longer it will take me to settle them down enough to catch them.”

  Marcus dragged his trousers on and walked into the hallway barefoot. He couldn’t see anyone yet, so he continued on down the wide, curving steps to the main hall. Here were chaos and mayhem, which he was coming to believe made better names for Fitzy and his namesake. They had obviously mastered flight because they were flying wildly about the room letting out little puffs of flame every once in a while.

  Twisting around, he looked for little AnnaBelle and saw her cowering in a corner. Walking over to Syranna, he took the pink harness from her hand. When she looked up at him, he smiled.

  “I’ll see if AnnaBelle will let me put this on her. That way you can concentrate on those two.”

  Marcus felt his heart literally climb into his throat a second later when Syranna’s eyes lit with gratitude. He resisted taking the time to caress her soft cheek with his fingers and instead began walking across the floor to AnnaBelle. He tried to imitate the noise he’d heard her make, but when that flopped, he just sweet-talked her.

  Dropping down onto one knee a few feet away, he spoke softly. “Come on, pretty girl, come to Daddy. He won’t hurt his sweet baby. Come on, sweetie, that’s it. Yes…come to Daddy. There’s a good girl,” he said quietly as he finally slipped the harness into place around her mouth and head. Picking her up, he cradled her like an infant in his arms.

  “Good job, Daddy,” William told him a moment later.

  Marcus turned to his friend and shrugged. “It’s just like I’ve always said.”

  William looked confused and scratched his head. “What do you mean?”

  “A great leader does whatever it takes to please his subjects!”

  “Yeah, right,” William murmured, shaking his head, but still not coming any closer. Marcus could see the doubt in his old friend’s eyes as he continued to coddle and pet the green dragon in his arms.

  “Don’t worry, William. I’ve not gone crazy, yet.”

  “Uther! Stop trying to hit Marcus with that broom! You are only making things worse. They won’t calm down until you stop.”

  Both men had spun around at Syranna’s shout, but Uther was across the room. It was surprising how spry the old wizard was when he wanted to be, Marcus noted with a smile. There was a ragged edge along the bottom of his purple robe and smoke was rising from the white beard, which definitely looked about six inches shorter than it had last night.

  “Darmand, stop laughing and please restrain Uther!” Syranna pleaded with the dark-haired wizard.

  “Very well, my pretty princess, just remember that you asked me to do it.” Darmand shrugged nonchalantly.

  Marcus turned and saw Darmand pull a silver wand from his sleeve. With a flick of his hand, Uther disappeared a second later and the broom fell with a loud clatter.

  “What the hell?” William muttered beside him.

  Marcus watched as one of the dragons flew down and landed on the fallen broom. Immediately Syranna ran across the floor and picked the dragonet up, cradling him gently while she slipped his harness on. She walked over and set it down on the table. A few seconds later, its brother glided to a perfect stop a few feet away.

  “Come here, Marcus,” Syranna commanded softly. The little dragonet walked the few feet across the tabletop, meekly allowing Syranna to place the harness over his mouth and head. “There’s a good boy,” she added as she gently rubbed the top of his head.

  “Well, I’m glad we’ve got that all settled,” William spoke as he pulled a chair from the table and sat down.

  Marcus crossed to stand beside Syranna. Immediately, AnnaBelle began scrambling to get to her. “Ow! Damn! That hurts!” he said as her little claws dug into his skin.

  Syranna took AnnaBelle quickly. “I’m sorry, milord. You’ll learn to always put your shirt on when you hear this kind of commotion in the future.”

  Marcus watched as Syranna turned away toward the kitchen, calling out for Moerana. He didn’t think she was even aware of how naturally she’d sounded when she spoke, assuming that he was going to be around in her future. As far as he was concerned, it was a great idea.

  A wet squishy sound drew his attention toward the doorway a moment later. There was Uther, dripping wet and madder than a wet hen, which in this case was appropriate.

  “That was not funny, Darmand! I could have drowned!” Uther protested loudly. As he started walking across the room, each wet sandal made a squelching noise with every step.

  “It’s not deep enough, old man, for you to drown in the reflecting pool,” Darmand point out, grinning shamelessly.

  “Then I could have broken something in the fall. Besides, you are
n’t supposed to practice magic in another wizard’s home.”

  “I know, but Syranna did ask me for help. And she knows me well enough that I’d never deny a lady’s request.”

  Uther stopped and planted his clenched fists on his hips. “That is not what she meant, and you know it!”

  Darmand shrugged and walked to the table. “I interpreted her words into the most efficient way to enact them. And as you can see, you cantankerous old wizard, once you were gone she immediately got the little monsters under control. Obviously,” Darmand sat down and crossed his arms over his chest, “you were the insurrectionist in this revolt.”

  William chuckled. “He is right, you know. You two missed the best part of the show.”

  Syranna shook her head and walked to the far end of the table. Sitting down, she put her arms on the table and then rested her forehead on her arms. AnnaBelle moved from her lap onto the table. Marcus was forced to readjust his thinking about dragons a moment later when AnnaBelle started nudging Syranna’s arm with her muzzle. When Syranna turned her head, she rubbed her face against Syranna’s cheek.

  In the silence, they could hear the little sound the dragonet made as she tried to soothe her “mother.” She’d only made the sound for a few seconds when her two brothers scampered down the table and tried to comfort Syranna as well. The dragon she called Marcus surprised him the most when it extended its wing and partially covered Syranna’s head. He gasped when the wing moved up and down as if it understood patting her might make her feel better. The implications of what this meant suddenly hit him!

  Syranna’s head came up off the table and met his eyes a moment later. Marcus felt like he could hear her voice inside his mind as she pleaded with him to say nothing about the dragons. Maybe this place was making him crazy, but he nodded his head in acquiescence.

  Moerana spoke from the doorway. “Are you ready for breakfast, ma’am?”