by Dixon, Ruby
"Sokay," Gwen says, leaving me behind and crossing toward the other female. She makes the sniffling sound that indicates her eyes are about to start sweating. "Dnlla! Mstchu!" My mate spreads her arms wide and tries to embrace the other female, only to get pushed away as she leans in.
"Dntwnnatlktu," the other says, looking over at me suspiciously. "Whosee?"
I bare my fangs at this new female. My Gwen certainly collects them, it seems. They crop up everywhere every time we try to be alone.
"Eez Vaan," Gwen says, glancing over at me. "Sadrkn."
"Deneezsenemy," the other declares, lifting her chin. "Ziswhyulftmi? Zisiswrng!" She grabs her coverings and pulls them close to her body, getting out of her nest with great indignation as she begins to babble angry words at my mate far too fast for me to follow. I study the new female, wondering at what angers her so much. Her scent is similar to Gwen's but not nearly as appealing. When she looks over at me, her eyes are full of anger and I notice that her cheeks are not smooth like Gwen's but have great ugly symbols carved on them. She's smaller than Gwen, and in my eyes, less pleasant to look upon and smell.
And she is very, very angry at the sight of me. Her gaze moves over my body, from my horns to my cock and then back up again.
"Andeezgottabonr!" she declares, gesturing at me. "Yuguysrsikk!"
My Gwen wrings her hands and sweat pours from her eyes. She tries to speak to the other female in gentle words, but it is clear the other does not want to hear them. She shakes her head and snaps at my mate, and when Gwen reaches for her, she shrugs her off and storms for the door.
I step in front of it, growling and baring my fangs at the female trying to leave. She cannot go until Gwen says she can.
The female gasps and staggers backward, her fear scent blooming. She lets out a tiny choked scream of terror.
Gwen rushes to her feet. "No, no," she says, over and over again. She moves toward me, her hands on my arms, touching my shoulder, my face. "Sokay, Vaan. Sokay."
The other female looks at my mate with utter frustration. "Urspostukomfortmi!" With another angry snarl, she pushes past Gwen and myself and retreats into the halls of the nest.
Gwen sighs, watching her go, and more sweat streams down her cheeks. "Dnla," she whispers, and then buries her face against my chest, her arms going around me. My displeasure at her sadness wars with the joy I feel that she chooses me over the other. She protected me when the other female approached, which was not necessary, but flattering. She stays with me in my arms when the other leaves.
Even I know a jealous female when I see one, and the one with the scars on her face is jealous. I stroke my Gwen's hair smugly, make comforting rumbling sounds in my chest and wait for her to stop sweating, to compose herself.
We are alone now, though, and this pleases me even more. It is the first time in many days that we have not been surrounded by one strange female or another. I caress Gwen's shoulder, lightly running my claws up and down her delicate neck and into her thick, fragrant hair. "Gwen," I rumble, letting her know I am ready to mate. This is our chance. Our time.
She looks up at me with sad, sad eyes and whispers a flutter of words that mean nothing to me except that my mate is hurting. The other female's retreat has wounded her spirit. My own need dissipates like smoke. This is not a mating time after all. My mate needs comfort and she has turned to me. I pull her toward the nest that retains her old scent and then ease her down onto the coverings. She curls up against me, her breath shuddering, and I hold her close.
Mating can wait. Again. Gwen needs me.
31
GWEN
Daniela's disapproval shouldn't hurt as much as it does.
I know she's mad. I know she has every right to be mad. I expected it, but in the face of her anger, it's hard to remain calm. For the last seven years, all we've had is each other. She's struggling with her recovery from a traumatic ordeal. I should have been there for her, and in her eyes I'm frolicking with a naked dragon-man who should be the enemy. She feels betrayed on all fronts.
I should go after her. Explain. Apologize a thousand times and hope that just one sinks in. I don't, though, because it's hard and I'm not strong enough to handle her anger and vitriol and not come out completely shattered. Daniela wanted me to do more to save her. Maybe I could have, and the thought eats and eats at me.
Make a decision, Gwen, I chide myself.
It should be so easy. Just come in swinging, like Amy does. Tackle problems head first and don't take no for an answer. But…there's a determined core inside Amy that I'm not sure I have. All my past choices have paralyzed me.
So I end up making no choice at all.
* * *
I must be more physically and emotionally exhausted from my journey than I thought, because I fall asleep instead of going after Daniela.
A sound wakes me from a deep sleep, and I realize I'm curled up against Vaan's scorchingly hot stomach and my skin feels sensitive where I've been pressed against him. My arm's thrown over his hips, and even though he's naked—and erect, always erect—I'm not fazed by it. I'm also drooling a little in what could probably be the world's least dainty nap. I lift my head and glance over at the door, wiping my wet mouth even as Vaan puts his hand in my hair, rubbing my head.
Just as I swipe at my lips and sit up, Andrea peeks in through the door. She takes one look at me and her face flames bright red. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry," she exclaims, stricken. "I didn't realize I was interrupting. I'll tell everyone you're not to be bothered."
"Wait," I call out even as she shuts the door. "We're not…" I sigh, because it's useless. She's not going to believe me anyhow. She saw me wiping my mouth as I loomed over Vaan's crotch with his hand on the back of my head. Of course she's going to think we're busy.
"Gwen?" Vaan rumbles, a question in his smooth voice.
"Oh, no big deal," I tell him, curling back up against his side. "Everyone's going to think I'm blowing you, that's all."
He gives me one of those low growls that doesn't mean he's angry at all, just content, and looks up at me with sleepy eyes whirling with deep gold.
My hand's on his stomach and my toes curl at that possessive, pleased look on his face. I glance down at his cock, and sure enough, he's straining and hard, his skin flushed a deeper gold. Of course Andrea thinks I'm blowing him. I lick my lips again, and suddenly sleep is the furthest thing from my mind.
I wonder how he'd react if I touched him? So far it's been all about me and less about him and…I want to return the favor. More than that, I just want to make him come, to see the look on his gorgeous, wild face when he climaxes. Maybe that's selfish of me, but I'm past caring.
How many times has he given me comfort and asked for nothing in return other than my company? I don't want things to be one-sided between us. I want him to realize how much I want him, too. It's time for me to show it.
I slide my hand up and down his stomach, just enjoying the feel of his skin under my palm. Touching him is ridiculously pleasurable, because he's heated and hard with muscle and not scaly in the slightest.
Vaan groans, his eyes turning an even deeper shade of gold at my caress. His claws dig against my scalp—not hard, but just enough to send a shiver of excitement through my body. I glance down at his hard shaft and there are beads of precum on the head, and my own arousal kicks up a notch.
"God help me, but I don't think I've ever wanted to touch anyone as much as I want to touch you." My whisper feels loud in the silence of the room, the only sounds that of our breathing.
I lean over him to put my mouth on his cock, but he stops me. "No, Gwen."
Shock and hurt roll through me. I sit back, staring at him in surprise. "No? Don't you want me?"
His touch is almost frantic as he traces my jaw and then takes my hand in his. Guiding my fingertips, he brushes one over a pearly bead of precum.
It's like touching boiling water. I draw back with a gasp, surprised. I remember now—when he came before and
I cleaned him with a towel, I was surprised at how hot his fluids were. They're scorching right now. "I don't understand how this works, Vaan. How are we supposed to have sex?" Amy didn't mention the heat part, or if she did, I missed it.
But he's not concerned, and Amy wasn't, either. Nor was she walking bowlegged, so I assume it all turns out all right in the end. All she mentioned was a bite and him giving me his fires…I just didn't think it was literal.
It doesn't stop me from wanting to touch him, though. I'm starting to become addicted to Vaan, like an addict craving a fix. Just one more touch, one more kiss, one more caress. I want to test his boundaries—and my own. So I reach for his cock, mindful of the wet beads building on the head, and grip the base of him.
His lips part, showing a hint of fang, and his eyes close in ecstasy.
"That's what I'm talking about," I murmur, fascinated by his response. Lord, this man is sexy. I watch as his entire body tenses and he pushes up against my hand, trying to thrust into my grip. I squeeze tighter, then make a circle with my fingers and try to move it up and down. My hands aren't slippery enough to get good movement, though, and I give up, caressing his sac instead. He feels super-heated here, too, the skin thinner and more delicate, and it's fascinating to see the scaled pattern. Even this part of him is beautiful.
I let my fingers dance along his cock, avoiding the head of it even though I'm dying to touch him there. Instead, I trace over his length, learning him with my fingertips. The scales are closer together, the color deeper here on this part of him, and I notice they form a ridge along the top of his cock that makes me shiver. How did I never notice that before? And holy shit, how is that going to feel? Now I'm the one moaning, imagining him thrusting into me and that thick ridge dragging back and forth inside me.
"No wonder Amy's such a happy girl, hmm?" I haven't seen Rast naked, but if he's anything like my Vaan… And I just thought of him as “mine.” Warmth flushes through me. I glance down at the man sprawled in my bed. He's alien looking. A little feral. But there's no doubt in my mind that he's mine. Not anymore.
And I want to make him come like he did for me.
I grip the base of his cock tightly again and stroke him. I'm acutely aware of my calluses, though, and how much softer my hands could be. It gives me an idea, and I climb over him to my bedside nightstand (pilfered from a nearby house) and dig through until I find one of the lotion bars that Cass makes for all the girls. It's not quite the same as lotion from the Before, but it's lightly scented and more important than anything, it gets my hands nice and slick when I rub it between them.
"Gwen," Vaan rasps, reaching for me. He rubs his knuckles along my thigh, returning my attention to him. "Kissss me."
"There are all kinds of kisses, Vaan," I tell him. I pull off my T-shirt and use it to swipe the precum off of the head of his cock and then press a kiss there. He's hot to the touch, but not so hot that I burn myself.
The breath hisses between his teeth. A pleased rumble—almost like a purr—vibrates in his chest, and when more precum appears to take the place of the last, he swipes it away almost angrily and then looks to me again.
Laughing, I lean down and kiss the head of his cock once more and then glide my slippery hands up and down his shaft.
Vaan makes a sharp noise in his throat, half snarl, half choke. He rises up from the blankets, staring at me with a dazed expression. A moment later, he falls back again, takes my hand, and puts it on his cock once more. With his other hand, he swipes away more precum and growls my name again.
Who knew that teasing him would be so much fun? I run my hands up and down his length, getting him extra slick from cock-head to balls, and then I begin to work him, encircling him with one hand and working him while teasing his sac with my other hand. And I say all kinds of filthy, raunchy things to him, because he can't understand a word I'm saying. It's all in my tone, and his eyes are molten pools of gold, watching me as I work him with quick, tight motions of my hands.
It seems like I've barely gotten started when he grits out my name once more and then bats my hands away. He takes his cock, strokes it twice, and then rolls away as he comes, spurting all over my sheets and bedding.
I'm not even mad. Rather, I'm quite proud of myself. I made him lose control and come quick and hard. I wipe my slick hands off on another corner of the blanket as he collapses onto his back, utterly spent. He's beautiful like this, and my breath catches in my throat. I move closer, leaning over him. "Let's make tonight the night, Vaan." My pulse is pounding and my pussy aches with need. "No more holding back. No—"
The door opens. Daniela steps inside and gives me an angry glare, holding her chin high as she heads to her bunk. It's clear that Vaan and I were in the middle of something…and it's also clear she doesn't care. She crawls into her bed, turns her back to us, and the room is silent once more.
Vaan caresses my cheek and I press a quiet kiss into his palm, but that's it. There's no way I'm having kinky dragon sex with my traumatized sister in the room. It's just gonna have to wait another night.
Damn it.
I get up to steal Andrea's blankets and then return to bunk down with Vaan. Tomorrow we find someplace private to room, I decide. No sharing with two other people. That's just not going to work.
Tomorrow suddenly seems very far away.
32
VAAN
The next morning, my Gwen shows no sign that she wishes to leave the human hive yet. She covers her lovely brown body in the strange human fabrics and puts on foot covers. She finds a long piece of fabric and offers it to me, a little grimace of apology on her lips.
She wants me to wear coverings, as well? I frown at this, but the other female in the nest with us—the one with the scars on her cheeks—makes distressed noises whenever she looks at me. I think back to yesterday, and the other males—even the drakoni with the dead mind—covered their bodies. Bah. I hold still and Gwen wraps it around my hips, knotting it at my waist. "Issakilt," she says cheerfully, and then gives me a smacking kiss in apology.
"Issaskrt," the other female grumbles.
Gwen ignores her foul mood. She hugs the female despite the fact that the other does not touch her back, and gives her a kiss on the forehead. Then my mate takes my hand, squeezes it, and leads me out of the room, calling something cheery out to her human. She is in a good mood this morning, my Gwen, and I like that. I enjoy her happiness. It makes my mood lighter, as well.
Until we join the other humans in the hive in a large chamber. All of the humans and their stinking, pungent bodies seem to be piled into one room together. Aghast at the stench, I stare in horror as they line up and take round objects in their hands and then move to sit down at a long wood rectangle, staring at each other and yapping in their noisy human language.
My senses are appalled and overwhelmed. Like always, the storms begin to thunder inside my mind, a reminder that I can quickly lose control here.
"Vaan?" Gwen's gentle voice cuts through the chaos and she squeezes my hand.
I squeeze hers back. As long as she touches me, I can endure this.
"Sbrekfst," she says, making an eating gesture. I look over and she is right. The humans are eating, and I remember Gwen and the other smelly human that traveled with us doing the same around the fire. They do not kill their food and eat the good bones. They like broths and soups and drinking their meals from rounded containers, as they do this morning.
I fight back a shudder as I remember how deeply charred Gwen likes her meals. "Food," I tell her, remembering the human word.
She's pleased at my response. "Yes, food!"
People stare as we walk in, and Gwen grips my hand so tightly that I suspect she worries I will lose control. Her bright smile is more forced, and I squeeze her hand again to reassure her. She pulls me along beside her and stands behind people waiting for their food. When I am handed a bowl of pale sludge, I fight back my distaste. Gwen looks happy. She is all that matters.
My mate gets h
er own bowl and then leads me across the room to one of the tables. Everywhere I look, there are humans staring at us, and all of them wear more coverings than I do. Gwen calls out to some of them, but her hand remains tight in mine and she casts anxious looks in my direction over and over again. The stench in here of all these human scents bleeding into each other is overpowering. I move closer to her and inhale deeply of her scent, nuzzling at her hair.
"Sddwn," she says, putting her bowl on the table and then seating herself on the bench in front of it. I do the same, and when she releases my hand, I possessively put mine on her thigh and look around. There are two others who hover nearby with their food, and I bare my teeth in a snarl at them until they get up and leave. My mate just sighs. "Eet, Vaan."
She makes the gesture for food, and my lip curls as I glance down at the colorless pile in my bowl. I try to pick it up with my claws, but it slides through in clumps like clotted blood from meat that has gone bad.
That…does not make me hungry.
"Pewn," Gwen tells me, patting my thigh and then handing me a shiny silver stick with a fat end. "Yewsdis." She picks hers up and uses it to scoop the food into her mouth.
A vague memory stirs. She has done this before. I glance around the large, noisy room, seeking a particular scent. There, in the back of the room, is Gwen's smelly human. I remember her sitting with my mate and both of them using these things to eat. Her gaze meets mine and she scrambles to her feet, clutching her bowl and leaving the room.
The sight of her retreating sets off the storms in my mind. Prey retreats.
She is prey.
I get to my feet, fire churning in my belly. My mouth waters and my claws itch with the need to rend, to tear and destroy. Fresh, hot blood is what I need—
A hand grips my arm. "No, Vaan."
