by Ruby Dixon
Shy no longer, my mate.
Pleased at her enthusiastic response, I sink my shaft deep inside her, thrusting hard. It is the first full stroke into my mate's welcoming body, and when I am seated fully, I close my eyes at the incredible sensation. Nothing has ever felt so good as Aahm's tight cunt quivering and flexing around my cock. I rock into her again and she shudders. Even though I should pace myself, be careful not to get too close to the edge, I cannot help but thrust into her, hard, over and over again. It is like a sickness inside me, the need to possess her body, the need to claim her, to brand her as mine. With every pump of my cock into her, she cries out, and her cunt tightens around me in response.
I feel the pressure growing in my body, feel a ripple move up my spine and know that I am dangerously close to spilling. It is the tight clasp of her heat, the soft cries she makes, the way she wriggles when I rub her clit—all of these things eat away at my resolve until I am a mindless creature, thrusting into her body, seeking the edge.
But I cannot come just yet. Not when I must give her my fires first. If I am to claim her, I must give her the bite that will meld our spirits together…or I must spill my seed on her back, the gravest of insults to a female.
I will never do such a thing to her. Just the thought makes my body clench, my resolve returning. She is mine and I have waited long enough to claim her. I thrust deep, spearing her with my cock, and when I am seated in the depths of her heat, I put my hands on her waist. “Aahm,” I murmur, entreating her to look at me.
She moans, rocking her lovely bottom back against me, making me grit my teeth with unfulfilled need. Not yet, I remind myself. You must claim her sweetness first. I pull her up from the bed, keeping my cock buried deep inside her, and lift her backward until she is on her knees, straddling my lap, her back pressed to my chest. I wrap one arm around her, holding her tight. Her breasts tickle my forearm, but I am careful not to harm her with my spikes as I gently cradle her neck, pinning her against me.
“Aahm,” I say again, and lick her throat.
She moans and says that word again. That “sahm.” That sound that is not my name.
It is time. My fangs tingle, filling with the venom that will bind her to me. I stroke my blunted claws over her throat and lick her skin again, and when she trembles, rocking her hips against my cock once more, I lean in and sink my teeth into the tender flesh of her throat.
My female gives a choked gasp, her entire body trembling and then going still. I stroke her, sliding my free hand between her thighs to play with her clit, intent on her seeing this as pleasure instead of the pain I am giving her. I feel her cunt squeeze tight around my cock, and she shivers in my arms as I let the fires move from my fangs into her blood. This will bring her temperature to match mine, link our minds and spirits for all time, and make it possible for her to take my seed…and bear my young. It is the greatest of honors to give to a female, and yet…I think she does not like it. Her body has gone very still and even my touch on her clit does not bring her pleasure.
That will not do.
I growl low against her throat as I keep my fangs buried inside her. I rock my hips, pumping into her cunt even as I tease her clit. She lets out a little cry, and her hard nipples rub against my arm. I keep moving and then go still, waiting. I'm gratified when she puts one hand on my thigh and digs in with her fingernails, whispering something urgent. I do not need to understand her tongue to know that she wishes for me to keep going.
I do, thrusting into her with as much force as I can, my teeth sunk deep. I am locked into her, even as power flows out of me and moves into her. I can feel my very spirit being sapped of its strength as I bond her to me, and it takes all of my concentration not to spill into her as I fuck her tight cunt. All of my fires must be transferred first; if I hurt her by spilling early, I will not be worthy of being her mate.
It is as if my body can sense my needs. With one final surge, I feel the last of my fires move into her, and I free her throat of my fangs, licking the skin to heal the wound. I press two fingers against her clit, rubbing hard even as I pump into her, and she arches, her back bowing as another orgasm ripples through her. Her cunt clasps me tighter than a fist, and then it is too much.
With a roar, I let my seed release, and with it, all of my strength. I thrust into her roughly, filling her with my spend, the wetness of our joining melding together as we both come. As I do, blackness creeps in around my vision, and I reach out to her with my mind.
There is no connection, not yet, but it feels like the barrier between us is as thin and fragile as an eggshell. Soon, I realize, and the anticipation is overwhelming.
I topple forward, spent, and have just enough energy left in me to push my weight to the side so I do not crush my mate beneath me. The world around me distorts and fades, and I sink into unconsciousness…but before I can, I grasp my mate and hold her tight against me.
Mine.
13
AMY
I do my best to pant quietly as I lie in bed, still trying to catch my breath.
I…can't believe that just happened.
I'm shocked to my core at what we just did. I mean, as a virgin, I've read books and heard people talk. I know the mechanics. But doing all that with Sam just now…there aren't words to describe the intensity of it all. The way it felt when he pushed inside me, his aggressive dominance that should have scared me but just turned me on even more…all of it feels as if it's unraveled the old Amy and she's lying in pieces here in the bed next to him.
Good pieces, of course. It's all good. I've never felt so very sated.
I've never felt so possessed, either. Even though I'm sweaty and sticky from what we just did, Sam's still plastered to my body, his arm wrapped around me and his hand resting on my throat, as if he has to hold me against him as he sleeps. It makes me feel cherished, even if he is napping when all I want to do right now is talk out what just happened.
He can't talk to you, remember? I remind myself, but somehow I think that's going to change. My head aches and I feel a little feverish, and I can't stop thinking about that bite. My neck throbs with the reminder of it and I remember how he held me close, soothing me even as he sank his teeth deeper. I vaguely remember Claudia mentioning a bite, but every time I asked her about it, she'd get vague.
I suspect this is how the bond is created between dragon and human. This is why she wouldn't say anything to me. It's because it's not just any kind of bond—it's intensely sexual and erotic and she didn't want to discuss it with her little sister. I get that, I do. At the same time, it's frustrating because I feel as if I've been flying blind. Claudia had all the answers and didn't share them with me, and instead, I've been terrified of Sam and his moods. Maybe I could have done things differently if all he needed to do was bite me.
I shift against Sam, because his cock's pressing up between my thighs, where I'm still wet with our release, and I want to squirm away and take a shower. But his arm is tight around me and even in his sleep, he nuzzles against my hair, as if he has to make sure that I'm there against him, and that I'm safe.
So I relax. It's kind of nice being in his arms, held like this. I slide my arm around his and lean back against him, closing my eyes. If I take a small nap, hopefully the pounding in my head will slow down.
Then, when he wakes up, maybe we'll talk. I hope so.
I fall into a deep sleep, full of wild dreams and fire. They don't feel like my regular dreams, but they're so strong and vivid that I don't know how they could be anything else. I struggle to wake up, and eventually manage to open my eyes, only to find that whatever fever hit me earlier has only grown stronger while I slept. I'm on my stomach on the bed, and I rub a hand over my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. My throat aches, parched and dry. My skin feels flushed and everything hurts, most especially my head.
A hand caresses my back and moves down my hip, cupping one of my buttocks. I can hear the faint sound of a rumble, almost like thunder, except it's coming
from the body pressed up next to mine.
That brings me fully awake. I glance over my shoulder and Sam is there, gazing down at me in that ultra-possessive way of his, sliding his hand up and down my back as if petting me.
I am pleased you are not afraid.
The thought floats through my mind at the same time the dragon-man's eyes meet my gaze. I'm shocked at the intensity of the thought, the fierceness of it. If I was standing, I'd have probably stumbled and fallen over. The voice is like liquid pleasure, though, and I can feel the emotions of the owner behind the words/thoughts that float through my mind.
Oh wow. Is this what the mental link is like? It's overwhelming. My head throbs as I struggle to get used to it. “Sam?” I whisper. “Is that you?”
There's a low chuckle, both in my head and aloud, and the dragon-man gives me a half-smile, the look on his face utterly pleased. He traces one blunted claw over my hip, as if fascinated by the sight of my naked body against his. You think my name is this Sahm? Is that what you have been saying all this time? I am amused.
“I didn’t have anything to call you,” I reply. “It seemed a good a name as any.”
There’s a strange delving in my mind, as if he’s diving into my thoughts and picking through the swamp of them. You picked it because it sounded…safe. Nice. His teeth flash in a way that’s both ominous and appealing. You wish for me to be nice, then? Is that it? I am sorry to disappoint you.
I can feel my face flushing with embarrassment. “You don’t have to be nice. It was…just a thought. I was a little scared of you.” I still am…no, that’s not right. Even now I’m more nervous at “meeting” him than I am scared. Worried he’ll find something about me he won’t like.
There is nothing about you I do not like, my sweet Aahm. No…that is not right. I feel him delve through my thoughts again. Amy. Such a delicate, sweet sound. It suits you.
I’m blushing even harder now, especially when his gaze goes to my body and he caresses my buttocks again, that idle caress as if I’m his plaything. “What’s your name, then?”
The dragon-man thinks for a moment, concentration written on his face. Surprise dawns, and then a genuine smile curves his mouth. Rast. I think that is it, but it does not feel like all of it.
“You don’t remember?”
He traces the blunted tip of one claw on my bottom, making circles on my skin. My mind is clearing a little more with every moment, but there is still much that is blurred and inaccessible. Things lost or burned away. They will return in time…I hope. His gaze fixes on my face. Your presence in my mind helps. It anchors me. A mate always anchors her male.
A mate. So I’m his mate for sure.
You doubted? He leans over me and presses his mouth to my shoulder, and I feel his tongue flick against my skin. After what we shared? After I gave you my seed?
I shiver at the casual yet erotic touch. I…I just didn’t know. I’m not very…strong. I hate that my insecurities are leaking all over my thoughts. This feels far more naked than being next to him in bed without clothes. I realize I can’t hide anything that floats through my mind because he’ll pick it up.
Your challenges were unusual, but I eventually understood them for what they were.
Challenges?
Yes. When you pulled me into the water-box and rubbed yourself on me. I knew that was when you wished to mate. His eyes gleam with pleasure.
Now I’m really blushing. “I wasn’t challenging you.”
He goes still, and the look on his face is offended. You did not wish for me to claim you? You mated your mouth to mine. Sucked on my tongue.
I hide my face in the covers, because this is the most embarrassing, frank conversation I’ve ever had. I…no, I wanted that. Even my inner voice sounds ashamed.
Good. There is no shame in wanting a strong mate for yourself, my Amy. His hand moves over my bottom again, one finger tracing the cleft of my cheeks. I squirm at the intimate touch, but I’m also fascinated by it despite the fever raging through me. You are new to mating and shy. I do not seek to embarrass you, my mate. I only wish to learn more about you.
“That’s what I want, too…Rast.” His name sounds strange on my tongue.
A flood of pleasure sweeps through my mind. I like it when you say my name. I am not this “Sam.”
“I won’t call you it again. I’m sorry. I had to call you something.” I lift my head and look back up at him, and his eyes are whirling almost entirely gold, his hand stroking over my bottom again. One finger slides along the part of my thighs, and then I’m gasping as he dips into the wetness there.
You may call me your mate. That is all I need from you. His eyes gleam and he lowers his body so he can press his mouth to my shoulder again, licking my skin with little curious flicks of his tongue. Just those small touches make my nipples hard against the blankets, and I can’t concentrate, because his hand is between my thighs and stroking my wet folds. It’s like my body no longer belongs to me. It’s all his.
“I…” I stutter as he sinks one finger inside me and nips at my shoulder again. “I’m sorry. This is all new to me.”
It is new to me as well. My mind has been nothing but wildfire since I came through the Rift. With your mind linked to mine, though, I am much clearer. My thoughts follow straight paths instead of twisting, smoke-filled ones. He rubs his nose against the back of my neck and slicks his finger deep inside me. I like that you are still wet with my seed, my mate.
I moan, both at his filthy thoughts sliding through my mind and the finger that pumps into me. “I should get up and shower—”
Why? I like you covered in my scent. Why wash away my seed when I am going to fill you with more? His tongue flicks against my nape. Or are you too ill from my fires to let me push my cock into your cunt and pleasure you?
I tremble at the images rolling through my head. Ill? I… “Your fires?”
He sends me a visual image of his teeth locked on my throat even as he pumped into me, and I moan again, because I’m seeing it through his mind and it’s beyond erotic to see myself fucked by him like that. I gave you my fires so we could be as one. His fingers smooth over my neck, petting the soreness there. I only have to do it once, though. I will not hurt you again. It was necessary if I was to give you my seed, or else I would have burned your sweet cunt from within. Even as he says it, he slips another finger inside me and thrusts hard, leaving me quivering and full of need. God, my body is making the wettest sounds and I can tell from our mental connection that he finds it incredibly sexy. He thinks everything I do is sexy. It’s amazing. His mind is so strong it’s almost overwhelming.
“Rast,” I breathe, dazzled by him. I’m just still so surprised he wants me. Plain, quiet Amy with the bad leg.
I see nothing plain before me, he tells me, voice sultry with heat. He leans closer and when I turn my head, he nips my ear with his sharp teeth. I see my lovely, fragile mate who has a soft, giving body, a strong mind, and the most incredible scent. I have wanted you from the moment I scented you.
“My panties,” I whisper, remembering. “You found them. You smelled me on them.”
Yes. I have been hunting you ever since I caught your smell that day.
“I left them for you to find. For someone to find. I thought the other dragon was the one who had come for me, though. And then you killed him.” I think about the confusion and worry from those days, the fear I had of him. Strangely enough, I’m no longer afraid. Maybe it’s because our minds are linked, but I know he’d never harm me. “I still can’t believe you did that.”
A hot stab of jealousy shoots through my thoughts. I will not let another touch you.
“I don’t want another, so that’s good,” I tell him.
The jealousy immediately clears. Then you understand why I had to destroy him.
It’s that part I’m still coming to terms with. But to him, violence is a way of life. I struggle to compose myself. Did Claudia feel like this? So completely overwhelmed at suc
h a strong presence in her mind? Did she have trouble forming coherent thoughts? Or is it more to do with the fingers that are thrusting deep inside me, mimicking his cock, and the subtle heat of his breath on my neck? I try to focus, because I want to learn so much about him. “So…Rast.” I practice his name, rolling it around in my head. It’s short and brutal. I guess it fits him better than the much milder “Sam.” “You remember your name. Do you remember other things from your world?”
He pauses, fingers stilling inside me. It makes me squirm, because I didn’t realize how much I wanted him to keep doing that until he stopped. With a chuckle, he nuzzles my neck again and begins the leisurely thrusts once more. If I try to focus on something other than the body of my mate, at the moment, I can think of nothing. But perhaps they will come to me in bits and pieces. You can ask me things if you have questions, though. His fingers surge deep, even as he pushes my thighs apart and I can feel his scorching body—warmer than even my fevered one—moving over me.
It’s hard to concentrate. There are so many things I want to ask. How old is he? Does he have family? Who was he before? What was the name of his world? Did he have a mate before? I try to focus in, but I’m distracted by the way he gently pulls my hips up until I’m on my knees, my cheek pressed against the blankets. A full-body flush moves over me when I realize this is the same position I was in…last night, when he took me.
I am going to take you again, he purrs in my mind. Unless you ache too badly?
It’s a different kind of ache, I think, and when he chuckles in my head, I realize he heard that. It’s true, though. I’m aching deep inside, and when his fingers slide out of my warmth and leave me empty, I whimper.
No, mate, he tells me in my head. A drakoni warrior mates only once and for life. You are mine and I am yours.
My silly, romantic heart flutters at that. “Really?”
A male can only give his fires once, because it bonds him down to his spirit. If we mate with a female that is not worthy, we spill on her back to let her know she is rejected.
