by Isaac Hooke
“Nothing would have happened,” she said with a confidence that seemed feigned, to him. “I’m a dragon, remember?”
“Half dragon," he corrected.
“Still strong,” she said. “Stronger than you.”
“On a physical level, maybe,” Malem said. “But on a mental level? Never.”
She lowered her gaze and nodded. “Probably.”
He smiled at her stubbornness, and then looked into the flames. “You know, I’m almost considering heading north on my own. Through the Midweald roads to Fallow Gate, and then north into Metal territory. Alone. Assuming Ziatrice doesn’t find the pearl among the dark army.”
“Alone?” she said. “We’d never allow you. You’re ours, just as much as we are yours. We could track you down, based on our sense of you in our heads.”
“I know,” he said. “But I could order you all to stay behind. And drain your stamina if you tried to follow. For your own protection.”
She laughed. “Good luck. Some of us wouldn’t give a damn what you did. I for one would hire a traveling merchant, with orders to bring me to you regardless of how weak I became. You’d have to drain me to death before I gave up.”
He smiled sadly. “Something I’d never do.”
She nodded and gazed into the flames. “You don’t have to tell me you love me best. You don’t have to pretend anymore. It was a nice fantasy we’d engage in before sex, nothing more. I know it’s not true. I’ve been living a lie these past few months. Of course I have. Feeling the pleasure through our connection, as you mated with the other women… feeling how passionately you fucked them. Oh, I know you don’t love me best.”
He sighed. “Yes. That’s correct.”
She nodded stiffly, and then stood. “I’ll let you fuck someone else tonight. Your favorite, whoever that might be. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.”
He wrapped his hand around her wrist before she could walk away. “Not so fast, Abigail.”
She gazed at him, then her eyes dropped to his wrist, which gripped her rather roughly. He released his hold.
“Look,” he said. “I don’t love you best, you’re right. See, I love you all equally. I can’t choose among you. Even when Vorgon gave me the choice of who would live and who would die, I couldn’t pick. Because I want you all. You, Weyanna, Gwen, Xaxia… all of you. It’s because of you I was able to break free of the Darkness in the first place. And it’s because of you I will defeat it yet. I can’t do this without you. Or without the others.”
“And yet, you just told me you were contemplating traveling north alone,” she said.
“Only because I care about you all,” he said. “And besides, contemplating is not doing. While I might want to protect you all from the dark days to come, I know I could never do this alone. I need you all.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down so that she was seated beside him. He stared into her eyes. “I need you.”
He leaned forward, and pressed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss fervently. So tender, her lips felt, yet owned of such fierce passion. He could truly believe her a dragon from the way she kissed.
She nibbled his lower lip, then thrust her tongue into his mouth. Feeling violated, he pulled away.
“Slow down, sailor,” he told her. “If it’s tongue you want, then it’s tongue you’ll get. But I’m the initiator.”
She nodded, looking down submissively. “Sorry.”
He lifted her chin with one finger, and gazed into her eyes. Then he kissed her again. She matched him, synchronizing her lip movements with his own. Her tongue remained in her mouth, as requested. He let his own slide between his teeth, across the moist surface of his lips, and through hers. He ran it across her lower teeth, and then underneath her tongue. The surface was spongy, wet. Sensual.
He slid one hand onto the smooth skin above her heart, and around the breast, sliding his fingers beneath the fabric of her dress, so that he could cup the sexy mass. So heavy, yet buoyant. While his tongue explored her mouth, he squeezed her nipple between his middle and third fingers. Then he moved his hand down, sliding the fabric off so that her breast bounced free. He plucked the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, teasing it until it grew hard. Then he outlined the areola with one finger, caressing her.
He pulled away from her lips, and a stream of drool followed as his tongue emerged. It trickled onto her bare chest, and he slid his hand over it, smearing it around her breast. He kissed her again, more passionately, rubbing his crotch against her thigh. Meanwhile, he slid his free hand between her legs. She pressed against him eagerly, as if hoping his touch would penetrate the fabrics of her dress and underclothes.
He planted a series of kisses down to her chin, then licked her neck, sliding downward, across her chest, until he reached her breast. Then he suckled the teat like a newborn, squeezing and fondling. She moaned, pressing against the hand between her legs all the harder.
He could feel her pleasure thanks to the bond they shared, and it echoed between them, growing with each time it passed back and forth. That same pleasure was also shared with the other men and women who were bound to him, and they each contributed to the rapidly rising intensity of it.
Panting, Abigail paused a moment to hike up her dress. “Fuck me!”
“Not yet,” he said.
He inserted his middle finger into her moist mound, and plucked her, making a come hither motion. She closed her eyes, and arched her back. Her toes curled up in her sandals.
He suckled her breast more, sharing her rising pleasure. She was close to climaxing, and because of that, he was near as well.
He withdrew his hand.
Her eyes shot open and she spun on him. “Don’t stop!”
He shrugged. “I’m going to do this all night, until you’re begging me for release. And I still won’t give it to you.”
“You’re only punishing yourself,” she said, knowing that he shared her pleasure.
“Maybe I like the punishment,” he said.
“You just like drawing it out,” she said.
“That, too,” he told her.
He slid down her underclothes, until they bound her knees together. Then he lifted her dress, sliding it up over her head, so that she was completely naked, save for the panties binding her legs.
He paused to admire her. Such a hard, toned body, yet soft in all the right places. Her breasts shouldn’t have been that big, given how little fat was on the rest of her body, but some women were genetically gifted. It helped that she was a half dragon, he supposed.
He kissed her again, and she returned it passionately, wanting release. This time he slid two fingers inside her, and repeated the comb hither gesture, while at the same time gently caressing her nub with his thumb. She squirmed underneath him. As she became desensitized to his touch, he rubbed her more vigorously with his thumb, moving it in a circular motion.
Her eyes rolled up in her head as the pleasure became too much to endure, and Malem felt himself losing it in his pants at the same time. His body shuddered from their shared pleasure, and he released her.
So much for denying her release all night. He was losing his touch.
The two slumped against each other on the bench.
He took stamina from the others so that only a moment later he was ready to go again. He kicked away his sandals and stripped off his own clothes and her panties. Then he pulled her down onto the carpet in front of the fireplace and slid his hot member inside her. She wrapped her ankles around his buttocks and squeezed, as if wanting to bring him as deep inside of her as possible, and keep him there.
“You’re so big,” she moaned.
He fought against her ankle hold, pulling back, and thrust inside her again. As hard as he could. When their pubic bones were touching, he gyrated ever so slightly to pleasure her nub, and he felt the shared ecstasy pass through their bond. It became magnified as it echoed between the others he had Broken. At that very moment, they would b
e squirming and panting in their own beds, feeling all of this with him and Abigail.
“Where did you learn to fuck like this?” she said in raspy-voiced disbelief.
He continued the hard, fast strokes, but forced himself to withdraw as he neared the brink.
“Oh no you don’t!” Abigail said. She tightened her legs like a vise, and hauled him back in. She tightened her inner muscles at the same time so that, even if he wanted to withdraw, he was trapped.
“You’ve been practicing that, have ya?” he said.
“Oh yeah,” she said. “In anticipation of your teasing bullshit.”
He smiled. “Oh, I see how it is. You want to get fucked, do you?”
“Yes!” she said.
“I’ll fuck you, then, bitch.” He slammed his hands down against her ankles, forcing them free. Then he fought the force of her inner squeeze, breaking free, and then slammed inside her again. She loosened up, letting him work, and balling up the carpet on either side of her with her hands. Her back arched once more, lifting the two of them off the ground.
Malem slammed his lips against hers, and their teeth bumped painfully. He hardly noticed, too absorbed in the moment, and kissed her. She returned it frantically, desperately. Her hips rose in sync to his thrusts, matching him stroke for stroke.
He was so close to release. So close… only a few moments more.
And then he withdrew.
“No!” she said. Her hips were still thrusting against the empty air, spasming in anticipation of the coming explosion. “No,” she repeated at a whimper.
He sat on her thighs, his hot member throbbing near her entrance. “Beg,” he said.
“Please,” she said. “Take me. I’ll do anything.”
“Oh?” he said. He pointed between his legs.
She smiled evilly, and then slid forward, wrapping her lips around his mass. She moved up and down, concentrating on the upper portion first, but was too gentle. Obviously she meant to tease him, too.
She slowly worked her way lower as she moved up and down, and when she got halfway down, he grabbed the back of her head and shoved her all the way until he was completely inside.
She slapped at his thigh, twice, indicating he had gone too far. But he held her there anyway for a few seconds, and then withdrew.
She gasped for air. “Not nice.”
“I might have gotten carried away a bit there,” he said.
“You and your dominance games,” she said.
He smiled, and then came around behind her.
“Doggy-style, too?” she said. “We’re doing everything tonight!”
He entered her from behind, and began slapping his hips into her thick buttocks. He watched the way they jiggled, and then reached forward, grabbing her hair, and pulling back her head.
He continued thrusting, and he climaxed far faster than he expected, thanks to the exponential rise in pleasure that came from the echo effect of the bond. When he had filled her up, he collapsed on the carpet.
She slumped beside him, and cuddled against him. She gazed down abruptly, between her legs.
“Who’s going to clean that up?” she said.
His seed was oozing out onto the rug.
Malem shrugged. “Let the inn charge us.”
“Maybe they won’t notice,” she said.
He nodded. “Kinda makes you wonder, how many other couples have done this very thing, on this very rug? And have the inn’s staff cleaned it up?”
“Eww,” she said. “I hope so.”
“Maybe the rug is covered in those tiny little bugs that seem to love inns so much,” he said.
“Stop it,” she said. “You’re grossing me out.”
He chuckled. “I’m grossing myself out. This whole inn suddenly seems dirty.” He turned to lean on his side, and stared into the fire.
She wrapped an arm over his side and around his, and he felt her breasts squeeze against his back. No doubt she had assumed the same posture as he. He felt her hot breath on his neck, and heard her content breathing in his ear.
“Flames,” she said softly. “I could look into them for hours. The source of my power.”
“Could you turn these into a fire elemental?” he asked.
“Only in dragon form,” she responded.
“Too bad,” he said.
“Why, you were looking forward to a puppet show?” she asked. “Of fire sprites?”
“It would have been… amusing…” he agreed.
She remained quiet for several moments, no doubt observing the flames, and then sighed. “I told you before that nothing would have happened to me when we were fighting the Reds. But to be honest… those wind elementals. I’ve never faced anything like that. I didn’t know what to do.”
“It’s not something to be ashamed of,” Malem said. “When faced with unusual situations in combat, it can be hard to think on your feet. We try to act as quickly, and as logically as we can, but sometimes nothing seems to help. Sometimes emotions take over and we panic, and don’t know what to do.”
“I could have died,” she told him. “Just like you said. You could have lost me. How terrible would that have been?”
“More than you could ever imagine,” he said. “I’d be devastated. Destroyed. I might become the Defiler again.”
She stiffened behind him. “Don’t say that. Never say that. The Defiler is dead, and he won’t be coming back.”
“But what if Vorgon Breaks me again?” he asked.
“The demon can’t,” she told him. “Not while Banvil has you.”
He nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” The flames jumped and crackled in front of him. “But that brings up another point. I haven’t told this to anyone else, but Banvil promised me he would grow in strength as the years passed, and that one day, he would take me, just as he has taken Goldenthall. So, you see, the Defiler will return. It is inevitable.”
“We’ll stop Banvil,” she said. “We’ll find a way.”
“I hope you’re right,” he told her. “Because the truth is, I dread that day more than death. If I ever turn again, you must promise me you’ll take my blade and strike me down.”
“Let’s not get melodramatic or anything,” she said, sounding vaguely amused, as if forcing the cheerfulness into her voice.
He slid forward, and turned over so that he was facing her naked body. He gazed searchingly into her eyes.
“No wait, you’re serious?” She shook her head. “You can’t burden me with a promise like that. You can’t!”
He smiled sadly. “Abigail, you don’t understand. You’d be setting me free. Promise you will kill me, if ever the Defiler returns.”
She shook her head, weeping softly. “I can’t.”
“You must,” he said. “Not just for me, but for the world.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t care about the world. Let it be doomed, as long as it means you live.”
“You would still love me as the Defiler?”
“You already know the answer to that,” she said. “There were times I hated you, yes, but they were rare and passed quickly.”
He rested a hand on her wet cheek. “If you will not do it, I will ask someone else. Gwen, perhaps. I thought to honor you, by giving you this chance. But if you refuse to honor me in turn, then so be it.”
She closed her eyes, and sighed. She rested a hand on her cheek, above his own.
“I will do it,” she said. She opened her eyes. Fresh tears flowed. “I will… end you, if ever a Balor possesses you fully again.”
Malem nodded slowly. “Thank you.”
He kissed her on the forehead, and shut his own eyes.
I hope I haven’t destroyed her with this promise.
He also hoped he wouldn’t live to regret it when the day of reckoning finally arrived. Because while it might seem a good idea now, when the time came, he doubted very much he would want to die.
6
Malem rode Nemertes during the trip north. Ziatrice h
adn’t been able to find a Light Pearl among the ranks of the dark soldiers, of course, nor could any of the members recall ever seeing such an object. Hence, a visit to the Metals was in order.
He and his companions flew well above the Midweald to avoid any ambush attempts. The forest was a darker shade of green below, set amidst the emerald grass of the plains beyond.
Nemertes was equipped with a saddle specifically designed for dragon riding, and Malem sat in it, strapped in. The other six dragons he had Broken accompanied him, three per side. Gwen, Timlir, Xaxia, Goldenthall, Mauritania, and Ziatrice rode one dragon each. Wendolin sat directly behind him: Nemertes was strong enough to carry a saddle designed for two people.
Behind him, Wendolin shifted to lean against his back, and wrapped her arms around him, her hands resting upon the lower half of his chest, just below his pecs. Because he had stowed his backpack in the saddlebags, he could feel the press of her small breasts against his back, and her warm breath on his ear. He sensed contentment from her.
He hadn’t yet slept with the woman, though not for want of trying. Though she was obviously attracted to him, she continually brushed off his advances. That was fine. He wasn’t going to force things. He would wait until she came around on her own. That was the best way to deal with such situations.
Wendolin had experienced the shared group pleasure only once, when he had taken Gwen to his bed the night of his victory against Vorgon. The morning after, Wendolin had approached him, and asked if he could mute her pleasure sense going forward so that she wouldn’t partake in the amplified ecstasy that came when he slept with one of those bound to him. She never explained why, but Malem had obliged her.
I’ll never get used to flying, she sent him as the forest ceded to the plains north of the Midweald. The wind produced by their flight would make it difficult to talk, so mental communications were best while on dragon back.
You don’t seem afraid, he sent. So I assume you mean that in a good way.
Oh yes, a very good way, she told him. My people ride griffins, remember?
I haven’t forgotten, he sent.
As a child, she continued. I always dreamed of joining the robins and songbirds as they flitted between the trees, or darted up and up into the air, swooping and frolicking across the skies. I imagined how free I would feel as I soared above the trees and clouds. How unencumbered by everything worldly. Because of that dream, I begged my parents to let me fly the griffins sooner, but they refused. So one night, I snuck out into the dark and took my father’s favorite griffin for a joyride. Needless to say, it didn’t end well, and father had to forcibly subdue the griffin, which I had no idea how to control.
