Dragon's Desire

by Delilah Devlin

  On occasion, she’d dabbled with the idea of writing fiction. A stumbling block was knowing where to begin or whether her imagination was big enough to dream up the grandiose stories she preferred of vampires seducing innocents for the blood, of demons finding redemption when they found true love.

  Sure, she knew about desire, had felt it a time or two, inspired by the heroes in her favorite stories, but she’d never been tempted. Not like she was now. Two men surrounded her while she was blindfolded. So much like the naughty BDSM scenarios she’d read with shock, then growing arousal. But she hadn’t known where to go to sate her curiosity.

  A large hand cupped her shoulder again. “Are you brave enough?” Guy whispered beside her ear.

  A fresh quiver shook her body, and she understood that what was being asked was something dark and sensual. Lord Drakken spoke of being satisfied simply by attempting to seduce her. It was up to her to remain strong—or to give into her curiosity.

  In any event, she trusted she wouldn’t be harmed, not when they were the new local celebrities in this tiny mountain town. Their every move was watched and gossiped about. She’d been seen in the company of the Lord Drakken’s man. She was safe, her virtue hers to keep or give away.

  Angela cleared her throat. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, surprised by the husky texture of her own voice.

  “Nothing,” Guy said from behind her, his hand gliding on her shoulder. “But I’ll remove your clothing.”

  Her heart stuttered, then thrummed to a quick beat. “You’ll both see me?”

  “Yes.”

  Goose flesh rose along her skin. “This won’t be a reciprocal thing?”

  “The blindfold remains.”

  She turned her head closer to whisper, “Is he scarred? Homely? Not that I guess it matters, but I’d like to understand the need for this,” she said, pointing at the blindfold.

  A chuckle gusted against her cheek. “He’s handsome. Women throw themselves at him.”

  “When? He never leaves the castle.”

  “When he’s comfortable here, he will. After he’s been fed.”

  Fed? Her body warmed, imagining a sensual feast of luscious fruits, exotic meats and fine wines. She shook her head again. “You speak in riddles.”

  “And you are a curious sort. Take a leap,” he said, his voice nearly purring. “With us. We’ll take care of you, Angel.”

  Someone taking care of her for a change. How she longed for that. Only they weren’t talking about anything beyond this moment. Certainly not the forever kind of love she’d read about and yearned for. Still, the experience might be helpful to her education as a woman to understand real desire and passion. “You’ll stop whenever I say?”

  His hand tightened on her shoulder then slid down to rest atop her breast.

  Shock held her still. When he thumbed the tip of her breast through her clothing, her breath left in a whoosh. A tingling sensation tightened the bud and it expanded. When his fingers plucked it, she felt an answering tug in her womb.

  His hand withdrew, and the cushion lowered beside her as he knelt. His hands settled at her waist, then pushed up the tee. Before he asked, she raised her arms above her head, trembling as the garment slid upward then away. She dropped her arms.

  Fingers slid beneath the snaps of her bra, twisted, and the cups fell away, leaving her breasts exposed. She knew how she looked, her hair disheveled, her nipples beaded, likely flushed a deep cherry. Trembling with a wild mixture of fear and excitement, she curled her fingers on the chair, fighting the urge to cover herself.

  “You’ll have to stand,” he murmured.

  She would have liked a little praise, a remark to let her know whether her appearance pleased them. But she swung her legs forward and stood, despite the weakened condition of her knees.

  Hands gripped an ankle and she reached out, grabbing muscled shoulders to steady herself as he removed first one then the other shoe. When he tucked fingers beneath the waist of her jeans, she sucked in a deep breath, but let him unbutton and unzip. Next, he dragged away her jeans and panties, and again she gripped his shoulders to step out of the clothing.

  When she was nude, she reconsidered the impulse that had kept her compliant. The air around her felt charged with excitement. The only sounds she could hear were her own heartbeats thudding inside her chest.

  Then footsteps neared. Lord Drakken’s.

  Angela straightened her back and released her grip on his man’s shoulder, feigning a more confident air than she felt.

  “She’s lovely, Guy.” His voice held a roughened gritty note. “You chose well.”

  “No choosing involved,” Guy said, amusement in his tone. “She approached me.”

  “She is right here,” Angela bit out, feeling her skin retract in gooseflesh because she felt the first stirring of unease. “Guy, you were hunting for a woman today? Someone to bring to your master?”

  “We were...hopeful of meeting the right woman.”

  “Singular?” Blood thumping in her ears, she turned to where Guy had been. “Do you share your conquests?”

  “Always,” Lord Drakken said. “I need Guy here to curb my impulses.”

  Impulses? Her stomach clenched. “I don’t understand.”

  “And it’s better that you do not. May I taste?”

  She tilted her head upward. “Why do you even ask? I’ve already conceded so much.”

  Hot breath, scented with mint, brushed her mouth. “Do you like being at my mercy?”

  She was nude. Her nipples sprung by arousal so strong, her body trembled. Lying now would only feel foolish. “I find that I do.”

  “For now, I will use only my mouth and tongue to sample your delights. We must wait for another time to fully explore you.”

  She was surprised at the pang of disappointment his words brought. Her body vibrated wildly, excitement softening her sex, hardening her nipples. “Delights,” she whispered, unable to express what she wanted.

  Naked skin pressed against her back, and she jerked with a gasp.

  “It’s only me,” Guy said, nuzzling beside her ear. “Relax.”

  She hadn’t realized he’d undressed. Then warm lips landed on the tops of her shoulders, and trailed over the curve of her breasts.

  Her body quivered, her breaths shortening to tiny excited gasps as a mouth clasped one breast and pulled. The gently suctioning had her melting against Guy, and his hands swept around her sides to grip her just below her breasts and hold her upright while his “master” continued to ply her breasts with succulent kisses and tantalizing nips.

  Then Lord Drakken trailed his mouth lower, over her ribs, which he traced with his tongue, to her belly button which he swirled inside.

  When he reached her mound, her knees gave way, and Guy sat on the chaise, her body atop his lap and facing forward. His hands slipped beneath her thighs and parted them, draping them over his own so that her sex was fully exposed and gaping. Cool air brushed her intimate flesh. Her pussy contracted, making a lush, wet sound.

  Embarrassed, she cupped a hand between her legs to hide herself.

  Lord Drakken kissed the back of her hand and slid his tongue between her fingers, but she kept kept her palm clapped over herself, all courage fleeing south because the situation was all suddenly too real.

  Teeth bit gently into her index finger and tugged away her hand.

  Guy’s teeth bit her lobe. “Relax. He will enter you, but only with his tongue, and not so far he will injure you.”

  “His tongue won’t reach...” Her voice trailed off because a firm, wet stroke lapped up one side of her outer lips, then trailed down the opposite one. When it stroked her center, she arched, giving a little started scream because the lick had touched her sensitive clit. Sensations zapped hard, and she strained to close her thighs.

  “Do you never touch it?” Lord Drakken asked, his voice so deep and thick it sounded like a growl.

  “No. It’s too tender.”

&n
bsp; Moisture dripped onto the covered nubbin, then his tongue, softened now, glided gently over it, circling, not pressing.

  The sensation was tolerable, but she was tense, unable to relax because she feared he’d press, and she’d embarrass herself by screaming.

  “Easy,” Guy whispered. “Drago, best move lower now. She’s strung tight as a bow.”

  “She’s perfect, Guy. So responsive.”

  Another gentle stroke and he moved lower, much to her relief.

  “You should play with your love knot,” Guy said. “To desensitize it.”

  “We will play with it,” Drago growled.

  She liked the way they talked so casually about her as though she was their play toy, as though they meant to have her often. And the way she felt now, she was all right with that. A languid heat melted her against Guy’s hard body.

  Drago’s tongue lapped at her inner folds, then swirled at her center and slid inside. It felt thicker than it should, but other than her own questing fingers, she’d never felt anything inside her. What did she know?

  In and out, it thrust in shallow strokes, soft and yet firm, soothing—almost.

  Guy’s hands cupped her breasts, massaging them gently, hefting them in his palms. When his thumbs rasped the tips again, she moaned and nestled closer to his naked chest.

  “You like that?”

  “I like...everything,” she moaned, reaching behind her body for something to hold. Her fingers found his hair and pulled.

  Guy chuckled softly, his chest buffeting her back.

  Again and again, Drago’s tongue thrust inside her until her thighs and belly tightened, and she felt compelled to meet his strokes, curling her belly in lazy pulses.

  His tongue swirled inside her, pushing deeper and deeper, and she circled her hips, desperate to increase the delicious tension growing inside her womb.

  Guy plucked her nipples, pinching the tips, just enough to cause the tingling to increase to a pleasurable pain. Her head thrashed on his shoulder, and she pushed her breasts into the air. “Please,” she begged, although she didn’t know what they could do to end the torment.

  “Another time, soon, we will take you, Angela,” Guy whispered into her ear. “We will stretch your arms above your head, restrain your legs with shackles to open you. Would you like that?”

  “Maybe. If you don’t leave me wanting like this.”

  More chuckles vibrated against her back, and she spared a small smile. Suddenly, the tongue pressing upward pushed too far.

  Pain stabbed her pussy and she cried out. “No!”

  The tongue withdrew.

  Guy’s hands fell away from her breasts and glided up and down her inner thighs.

  A gentle lapping resumed against her folds, stroking between them, and dragging upward to flick against her clit. Drago’s licks assumed a rhythm that matched her heart’s beats, and she settled again, enjoying the movement.

  One of Guy’s hands slid beneath her, and while Drago licked, Guy’s finger trailed between her buttocks until it touched the other entrance.

  She stirred, uncomfortable with the strange intimacy.

  “Let me,” he said, his voice thicker. “We’ll give you the pleasure you seek.”

  “Not there. It’s too much.”

  “I won’t enter you. Just let me tease.”

  His tone wooed, and she relaxed her cheeks.

  His finger rubbed the entrance again, swirling in the juices dripping from her pussy.

  The experience was all too much. The sensations, the dark pleasure of it all. The men’s own breathing changed, shortening to hot gusts. The body she lay against hardened to stone; the cock pressed against her back pulsed.

  Blind, her mind filled with images of the handsome Guy, naked, his skin shining with sweat. Of the master, kneeling between her legs, equally nude, a dark head buried between her thighs, his amazing tongue lashing at her sex. Her sex.

  She didn’t care that she’d only been a convenient conquest, rather reveled in the idea that they thought of her as an easy mark. At the moment, she was the one reaping the reward because all their attention was centered on her and her deepening, agonizing pleasure. She whimpered.

  Guy’s cheek scraped against hers. “Now, Angela. Come for us now. Let go.”

  As though her body had been awaiting permission, a sudden blossoming explosion erupted in her womb and spiraled outward, tensing her thighs, curling her toes. Waves of pleasure rolled over her body, prickling her skin, releasing a warm gush of liquid from inside her that Drago licked right up. Through it all, she was aware of the men, soothing her with kisses, calloused hands, and praise she didn’t understand because the words were in another language, but that fact didn’t really matter.

  Angela at last understood passion. And she wanted more.

  Chapter Three

  “Bloody witch!”

  Guy roamed the large chamber, keeping well away from Drago as he thrashed violently on the stone floor.

  Although they’d repeated this cycle many times, he never overcame his awe at the transformation as they approached the centennial anniversary of Drago’s curse.

  Drago lay naked and bathed in sweat, shivering and cursing. His back was covered in scales, his hands already fully engulfed, and every time he kicked his feet, his limbs blurred between human and dragon. He was in his third day. By tonight, he’d be full dragon and they had a date with Angela.

  For the first time since he’d entered this devil’s bargain, Guy regretted their choice of virgin “sacrifice”. Angela met all the requirements. She matched the witch’s daughter’s appearance in coloring and frame. Even her fiery temperament, which she hid beneath a thin veil of embarrassed modesty, shone like a beacon.

  Since their introduction at the fair, they’d met twice more. Guy spent time alone with her to win her trust. The strictures of the curse were narrow. Not to be meddled with, or only free-running blood would satisfy the beast the witch had shoved inside Drago’s soul.

  Angela’s appearance was important because the old hag, Greta, had wanted Drago to remember her daughter each and every time he approached a new sacrifice. She wanted him to relive the guilt and horror he’d inflicted when he’d rejected her young daughter because she hadn’t come chaste to his marriage bed. The daughter, overcome with shame, had hung herself from the limb of the sacred oak for all to find. As she’d swung, her face swollen and a mottled purple, the witch had cursed Drago for eternity, swearing he’d learn the feeling of being rejected himself.

  And, over and over, Drago had. For he didn’t come to the sacrifice in his handsome human skin, but rather the dragon’s. Even when a woman was warned, a last moment’s terror served to renew the curse. Drago more often chose to mesmerize the girls, rather than let them feel a moment’s fear, which also worked to prolong the curse. The woman had to accept the dragon in the man, of her own free will, at the moment her hymen broke.

  No long courtship could be used to soothe the woman. The three days before the last full moonrise were all the curse allowed. In the old days, before Guy, Drago permitted the villagers to choose the sacrifice, with the quiet stipulation the woman must be fair. After Guy became his servant, Drago let him troll for their victims.

  They’d both been surprised when after that first time atop the Dragon’s Atoll, Guy had ceased to age. They thought perhaps it was because Guy had accepted Drago, his curiosity making it possible for him to suspend horror in the moment Drago thrust his tongue deep into the maiden.

  But still, they’d yet to find a woman who didn’t cringe. Neither man could stomach rape, and so Guy took on the role of seducer, something for which over the years he’d gained considerable skill. The most they hoped for this night was to soothe Angela’s maidenly vapors, because when they were through, her life would never be the same. Their secret must be kept, and so she’d be sequestered, pampered, loved gently for the rest of her days—her reward for bearing that single moment of horror when the blindfold was removed an
d she would see Drago’s true nature.

  Drago pounded the stone floor with his fist, then shook his head. “Go now. Get the girl. There can be no delays.” He shook his head a final time and it blurred, reshaped, the dragon’s snout appearing. Gold eyes glinted in torchlight, the pupils narrow, vertical windows into Drago’s agonized soul.

  Guy approached him, reached out a hand, and touched the bridge of his long snout. “Maybe she will be the one,” he whispered, although they both held out little hope. Theirs had been long lives, filled with disappointments and good works to placate whatever deity was watching over them. He walked to the door, paused to turn the antiquated gear handle that lifted part of the roof above the room like a drawbridge. The space created was just big enough for Drago to escape.

  As he watched, Drago sank on his back haunches then leapt, grabbing the edge of the opened hatch and hauling himself out. Guy couldn’t see into the darkness, but heard the mighty flap of the dragon’s wings as he flew to the mystical atoll, which always appeared on the first night of the full moon.

  Angela adjusted the drawstring at her neckline, easing the fabric from the ribbon to allow a little more cleavage to show. Guy had said tonight would be special. That he and Drago had a secret to share.

  She thought she knew what that secret might be. For the past two days, she’d clicked through the Internet, seeking information about Drago and Guy and the old keep they’d moved from deep inside a German forest. What she’d found only enhanced the romance surrounding the pair. A true tale of good and evil, a witch’s curse, and virgins lost to a savage, bloodthirsty beast.

  Tonight, she’d take no notebook, no pen. No more pretending she sought an interview. Since she’d met them, she’d lost interest in her job, her mundane life. When they grew bored with her, she’d have to move away because her thirst for adventure wouldn’t be satisfied any longer in this little mountainside community.