To Love A Dragon; Venys Needs Men

by Tiffany Roberts

  “It will be a long journey,” she said, shifting her legs and easing down on her side to face the fire—and Arysteon beyond it. She dragged her bag closer and laid her head upon it. “We should rest.”

  Arysteon nodded, and his eyes lingered on her for a few moments before he moved. She’d expected him to simply lie down across from her like he always had in his dragon form. Instead, he pushed himself onto his feet, rounded the fire—already walking with effortless grace—and stopped behind her. Leyloni turned her head to watch him, eyes widening as he lowered himself onto the floor immediately behind her.

  He lay on his side, facing the same direction as her, and draped an arm over her waist. Leyloni’s breath caught in her throat. Without pause, Arysteon drew Leyloni back, hugging her to his chest, and curled around her. His body molded to hers perfectly.

  Arysteon’s chest expanded with a deep inhalation. He released the breath with a low rumble that vibrated into her, the flow of air from his nose stirring the strands of her hair. His tail slid over her legs and came to rest atop them, its spiky tip grazing her skin.

  Leyloni held still. She’d huddled with her tribe sisters through many cold nights, and such closeness was nothing new to her, but this…this was different. There was an intimacy to his embrace like she’d never experienced.

  And she liked it. A lot.

  She liked the feel of his scales, some of which were more rigid and rough than others, against her skin. She liked his incredible warmth, which seemed greater than that of the fire before her. Most of all…she liked the feel of his cock, which was pressed firmly along the curve of her backside.

  Her sex clenched, flooding with heat and pulsing with need as her nipples tightened into hard, aching buds. She rubbed her thighs together. It did nothing to alleviate her discomfort, but it did cause her backside to wiggle against her dragon’s shaft.

  Arysteon hissed and stiffened, his clawed hand flexing over her belly. He made a soft, subtle sound near her ear—it was the sound of his tongue slipping out and retreating. She’d seen him do that so many times that she hardly thought about it, but why did he do it? And why did it send a delightful shiver up her spine now?

  “Are you in heat, Leyloni?” A growl ran just under his voice, giving it a gruff edge.

  Her brows rose in surprise, and her cheeks flushed. How…how could he have known what she was feeling? “Humans do not go into heat.”

  He made that tongue-flicking sound again. “I smell your need. I can taste it.”

  Oh, Mother Eurynome, can he smell me? Taste me?

  Leyloni squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face against her bag as though to hide. Had he smelled her when she’d pleasured herself this morning? Had he smelled her all those times she had been aroused by him while he’d been a dragon?

  Arysteon leaned closer to her, brushing his nose along the rounded shell of her ear and over her cheek. He lifted his hand from her belly and caught her chin, turning her face toward him. His violet eyes were impossibly bright.

  “Tell me what you need, Leyloni.”

  This was her mate. This beast, this dragon, who had saved Leyloni and Serek, who had offered them shelter, who had hunted for them, who had sacrificed everything that he was…

  He was hers.

  If she had regretted her timidity in the past, was this not an opportunity to overcome it? To be bold? There was nothing to lose here, and she sensed that there was so much to gain—she sensed that their bond could be made even profound than it already was.

  Keeping their gazes locked, Leyloni raised a hand and placed it over his. She guided his hand away from her chin, trailing it down her neck and over her chest, where the tip of his claw grazed her nipple through her clothing. Leyloni’s breath hitched as pleasure jolted through her.

  Arysteon’s slitted pupils dilated.

  When his fingers reached the hem of her short skirt, Leyloni bit her lower lip, parted her thighs, and directed his hand under the fabric to cup her slick sex. A soft, nearly inaudible moan escaped her as the rough pad of his finger brushed her pleasure bud.

  A low growl escaped him.

  “I need you,” she whispered.

  9

  Leyloni’s words poured liquid fire into Arysteon’s veins and jolted his spark to a wild thrum. His stem strained against her backside, permeated by an ache so deep it made the muscles low in his belly seize. Her natural scent had been alluring to him from the first moment he’d detected it, and he’d tasted the air as often as possible in the time since, always seeking even the tiniest hint of her smell.

  With her arousal layered atop it—complementing it, strengthening it, making it headier—Leyloni’s fragrance was maddening. He’d wondered if that new aspect to her scent had been due to her arousal the few times he’d smelled it before. Now he knew.

  And it was just for him.

  He turned his face toward Leyloni’s pelvis and lapped at the air, pressing her scent, her taste, to the roof of his mouth. A shudder coursed up his spine, making the spikes along it snap upright. The flesh beneath his fingers—the flesh of her slit—was hot, soft, and slick, unlike anything he’d ever touched. Carefully, he brushed his finger along her slit while remaining mindful of his sharp claws and her delicate skin.

  Leyloni’s eyelids lowered, and she shivered, squeezing his hand before hers fell away. She parted her thighs wider, which caused her skirt to rise and bunch around her hips and granted him more access with not only his fingers, but his gaze.

  Her sex was like a flower, its pink petals spread and glistening with dew. Arysteon’s tongue darted out again, urged by the need to taste not only the air, but her—to lick that sweet dew from her.

  A small patch of coppery curls was nestled on her pelvis just above her sex. He moved his fingers to it. Though it was coarser than the hair atop her head, it was still soft.

  His stem pulsed. The ache instilled in his loins by his desire for her only deepened. He gritted his teeth, straining to keep from spilling his seed then and there, but a few drops escaped to dampen the skin of her backside.

  Arysteon dipped his finger to explore her sex, watching her petals bloom and gather nectar, which he spread over her flesh. He breathed in her scent, tasted it again and again on the air as it grew more potent.

  Leyloni panted softly and rocked her pelvis as though seeking more of his touch. Her half-lidded eyes were dark with desire.

  “This is what you desire, female?” he rumbled. “Is this the touch you crave?”

  As soon as the words left him, his finger grazed something at the top of her slit that made her body jolt and her breath hitch.

  “There,” she rasped. “Right there.”

  Arysteon groaned at the friction against his stem. Ripples of pain-laced pleasure flowed outward from his loins, coaxing his spark to further intensity. He pressed his hand down on her pelvis, forcing her backside more solidly against him—increasing the pressure on his stem, heightening that sweet torture—and stroked the little nub at the apex of Leyloni’s slit.

  Leyloni gasped and arched her back, moving her hips just as he’d wanted. She lifted her arm and reached back to grasp one of his horns. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed; this was a new side to her beauty that he had never imagined.

  He ran his tongue over the smooth skin of her cheek before nuzzling behind her ear. Her soft cries escalated with every steady, circular stroke of his finger around that bud.

  “Arysteon,” she moaned, opening her eyes and turning her face toward him. Her gaze dipped for an instant before she pulled his head down by his horns and brought their mouths together.

  His eyes widened, and he stilled.

  What is this?

  Leyloni’s lips caressed his, sending sparks of sensation outward from everywhere they touched. When he felt her tongue trail along the crease of his mouth, he parted his lips. Her tongue slipped between them. Lust surged through him like a bolt of lightning, crackling outward to the tips of his finge
rs, toes, and tail.

  She was mating him…with her mouth.

  And he liked it.

  “Arysteon, do not stop,” Leyloni begged, her breath warm and sweet. She drew back and met his gaze. “Please do not stop.”

  The distance she’d created between them, however small, triggered a burst of possessiveness in Arysteon—and his most primal instincts. He growled and dipped his head to reclaim her lips, ravishing them with all the ferocity burning inside him. And when she parted those lips, he slid his tongue into her mouth, exploring it, claiming it, tasting her directly.

  She was delicious.

  All the while, he kept his fingers moving, concentrating on her little pleasure nub and the lust-slickened flesh around it. Her involuntary movements and breathless moans served as his guide. His throbbing stem was in agony, her heated flesh as hot as molten stone against it, but in those moments, he craved only her pleasure, he longed only for her reactions.

  Suddenly, her breath hitched, and she tensed. Her other hand rose and delved into his hair, clutching the strands between her fingers. She tipped her head back, breaking the contact between their lips, and her mouth opened in a silent cry.

  Baring his teeth as another growl built in his chest, Arysteon sped his fingers. Leyloni’s lips were his, and he was not yet through with them.

  He would never be through with her.

  Liquid heat flooded Leyloni. The scent of her desire, even stronger than a few moments before, permeated the air. Her sex and thighs quivered, and a cry escaped her lips before she curled toward Arysteon and slammed her mouth over his, urgently rocking her pelvis against his hand.

  His eyes shut of their own accord. That only amplified everything he felt, tasted, and heard as he continued stroking her nub. Her soft, muffled cries against his lips were the loveliest sounds in all the world. Her scent was sweeter than that of any spring blossom. Her taste was more delectable than any exotic fruit.

  He yearned for more. He needed more.

  That quickly, his desire became something unbearable, something irresistible. He needed to have her, to mark her with his scent, to find his release in her, to fill her with his seed. He needed to make her his in every way.

  With a snarl, he caught Leyloni’s wrists in his hands and pushed them to the ground on either side of her head, forcing her onto her back. She went easily. Her thighs fell open, and Arysteon positioned himself between them, shuddering when his stem fell upon her slick, parted sex. Her heat teased him, beckoned him.

  Leyloni looked up at him with half-lidded eyes that were glossy with pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed, and her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His eyes dipped to her chest covering, which concealed her from his gaze, hiding her smooth, pale, speckled skin and rounded breasts.

  Releasing her wrists, he set his fingers to the lacings of her top. All the heat, energy, and lust pumping through his veins made his movements frantic. He clenched is jaw in frustration as he fumbled with the knot. When that knot somehow became only tighter and more tangled, he bared his teeth at it.

  Growling, Arysteon hooked a claw under the knot and wrenched up, slicing the ties apart. As he pulled the lacings loose and worked her covering open to expose her breasts with their pink nipples, he realized Leyloni was shaking beneath him. Her movement, though subtle, created friction between her slit and his stem, sending tiny pulses of pleasure through his body that quickly grew into nearly overwhelming waves.

  He looked up to find Leyloni’s eyes sparkling with humor and one of her hands over her mouth to muffle her laughter.

  The sight was unexpected enough to give him pause. His heart warmed impossibly further, and a smile tugged up on his lips. “What is amusing, Leyloni?”

  She lifted her hand away to reveal a wide grin. “A powerful dragon frustrated by a little knot.”

  He cupped her cheek with one hand, hooking his thumb beneath her chin, and leaned closer. “You do not know how long I have awaited you, my heartsong.”

  Her eyes softened, and her expression sobered.

  Curling his other hand around the back of her thigh, he guided her leg around his waist. She moved her other leg into place unbidden.

  Arysteon drew his hips back just enough to position the tip of his stem at her entrance. He eased in—just a little—and growled. She was slick, hot, and so, so tight. Leyloni’s eyes flared, and she caught her bottom lip with her teeth as her brows creased.

  “You are my mine to provide for, mine to protect. Mine to breed.” Arysteon stroked her jaw with his thumb and lowered his face so that their mouths were a breath apart. Hooking her lower lip with his claw, he tugged it free of her teeth. “You are mine, Leyloni, and nothing will stand between us.”

  He slammed his mouth down upon hers, claiming her cry as he thrust his hips forward and buried his stem deep in her wet heat.

  Sharp, tearing pain struck Leyloni upon Arysteon’s entry. She had known it would come, had anticipated it, but no forewarning could overcome the reality of it.

  Leyloni’s body went rigid, and her hands flew to her dragon’s shoulders, gripping tight and raking her nails over his scales. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her reflexes and instinct nearly drove her to shove him away, but she knew in her heart that pushing away from Arysteon was the last thing she wanted to do. She just…needed a moment.

  Arysteon’s long, thick cock pushed deeper, stretching Leyloni, filling her, and her sex clenched against the intrusion. He groaned and shuddered as he leaned his forehead against hers. Though brimming with tension, his body went incredibly still. His voice was a harsh rasp when he said, “You are in pain.”

  Leyloni opened her eyes and looked up at him. His expression was tight, and his gaze swirled with a chaotic mix of genuine concern and ravenous desire.

  “It will be over soon,” she said quietly. The pain had already faded considerably, leaving only a slight burning sensation and that incredible fullness.

  She released her hold on his shoulders and smoothed her hands over his chest, exploring the texture of his scales. Taking a deep breath, she willed her body to ease, focusing on the sensations beyond her lingering discomfort. She focused on the feel of his warm scales against her skin, on the pulsing of his shaft inside her, on his spice and storm scent enveloping her, on the pounding of his heart beneath her palm.

  More than all that, she focused on the energy dwelling within him—his lightning. It was a faint, thrilling tingle coursing over his scales and onto her skin, it was a gentle thrumming in her core, it was the tether binding their souls together.

  Tipping her head back, Leyloni brushed her lips along his jaw and to his mouth, beckoning him into another kiss as she raised her knees and spread her thighs wider, allowing more of his weight to settle upon her.

  It was all the encouragement Arysteon needed.

  His control shattered. He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with a savage intensity befitting his bestial nature. His long, strange, exhilarating forked tongue twined around hers, exploring her mouth, fanning the flames at her core. Their kiss was unpracticed, but what they lacked in experience, they made up for in passion.

  As he kissed her, Arysteon slowly drew his hips back, letting Leyloni feel every ridge on his shaft drag along her channel before he drove even deeper into her than before. She gasped, and he swallowed the sound, drowning it out with a growl. There was only a faint twinge of discomfort this time, and it came with a tantalizing spark that made her toes curl with pleasure.

  And he didn’t stop. His every thrust sent him deeper and deeper, building that spark into a torrent of sensation that soon made Leyloni forget her pain, forget her sadness, forget the whole world. All that remained was pleasure and her mate. Her dragon.

  Arysteon.

  Leyloni tightened her legs around him and met his thrusts, seeking, craving, needing more. What had been too much mere moments before was no longer enough. The sensations rippled through her, growing in intensity. Their kiss muffled her moans and cr
ies even as it seemed to urge Arysteon on. He increased his pace, filling the cavern with the sounds of scales slapping against flesh, with his low, ragged grunts, with the scrape of his claws on the floor.

  She combed her fingers through his hair before wrapping them around his horns and kissing him with the wildness blazing within her. She flicked her tongue against his sharp teeth and traced it across his lips, capturing the bottom one between her teeth and nipping it.

  Arysteon bucked his hips and hissed. Leyloni gasped as pleasure jolted through her. He pulled his head back and opened his eyes. His expression was feral, his gaze gleaming with a ravenous light—he looked more like a beast now than he had in his dragon shape. But she was not afraid; she sensed his possessiveness, his lust, his need, but she also sensed that familiar tenderness at the heart of it all. He was no different than before.

  This was just another part of him, one that existed only for her.

  He dropped his face with a snarl, and his tongue slid along her jaw, leaving lightning-like tingles in its wake as it continued down her neck. She tilted her head back to accommodate him, welcoming that intimate touch. Without missing a stroke of his cock, he moved his tongue lower still, following the line of her collarbone and plunging down between her breasts.

  His tongue circled one of her breasts from its base, spiraling up toward her nipple, its long path only heightening her desperation, only fanning the needy flames within her. She moaned when his tongue finally reached her budded nipple.

  He withdrew his tongue and clamped his lips over that bud, sucking it deep into his mouth. Leyloni’s pleasure coiled tighter and tighter within her core. Liquid heat flooded her, aiding his thrusts, enhancing the feel of his cock along her channel and cleft.

  “Arysteon,” Leyloni breathed. She was close. So close.

  Arysteon surged up and braced himself over her. His lips were peeled back, baring those sharp teeth, and he grunted harshly with each of his frenzied thrusts.