Dragon's Desire: A SciFi Alien Romance (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss Book 8)

by Miranda Martin

  Sharp blades drive between its scales, finding the soft flesh underneath. It jerks up, pulling with all it has, I try to hold it down, but I’m lifted off my feet into the air, gripping tighter, forcing it to keep its mouth open. It won’t go underground as long as it’s open. Even a zemlja has to breathe.

  Whipping back and forth, it tries to shake me off. Shoulder muscles strain with the force. Suddenly it straightens, stopping its writhing. I’m balanced over its open mouth, holding onto its jaws on either side. The suddenness of the stop takes me by surprise and I drop into its maw.

  Damn it. Bracing my feet against the other side I force it to keep its mouth open while also avoiding the drop into its gullet. I will not be eaten today!

  “SARAH!” I scream, straining.

  Her perfect face drifts before my mind’s eye. She’s waiting. I can’t miss this chance to see her.

  Damn you monster, I will win!

  Pushing out, pouring all I have into it, the jaws strain to close, but I won’t be defeated. It jerks, spasms running up through its long body. Slime and saliva make finding purchase hard. Struggling to keep a grip, I slide deeper. Sharp teeth shred my shoes, cutting my feet and hands.

  The sky above shifts, then the thing is falling, and I’m along for the ride, holding my place between the concentric rows of teeth. It hits the ground, and I bounce around inside its mouth, gathering cuts and bruises. Losing my grip, the mouth falls shut but nothing happens.

  “Drosdan!” Ragnar yells.

  I hear them outside the thing, sounds of shifting and grunts of straining.

  “Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath as the bijass retreats.

  The anger fades with it, leaving behind cold emptiness. The rage is warm and easy, it pushes through, and I understand it. I’m no leader. I’m not worthy of Sarah either. The fog of memory swirls, and for a moment a memory is there, freezing me. No, that didn’t happen. It doesn’t matter.

  Light breaks into the dark as they force the maw open. Ragnar takes my hand and pulls, helping me out of the creature.

  Standing over the monster, we exchange looks, shaking our heads.

  “Too close,” I say.

  “The wall took a lot of damage,” Padraig says.

  “We’re going to need a way to keep them away from our area,” Melchior says.

  “Any bright ideas?” I ask, looking at each of the males in turn.

  As I expect, none of them have anything to offer. Padraig shrugs, shaking his head.

  “Maybe something that causes a vibration off out there,” he says, pointing across the rolling sand dunes.

  “Such as?” I ask, pushing down my anger.

  “I don’t know,” he says

  “Right,” I say. “Carve this damn thing up. It will give us food for a long while.”

  The suns are barely above the horizon now. I should be well on my way, but I’m stuck here. The others set about butchering the zemlja, and I have to help them. I don’t want them to know I’ve been going to see Sarah. If one of them mentions it to Visidion, it will cause trouble. I’m not ready to handle him yet. By the time we’re finished, it’s beyond full dark. After we haul the last of the meat into the compound, the work of preparing it for storage begins.

  Once the Tribe sets to work on this, it’s easy to slip away. No one expects me to do this work, so I won’t be missed. Under cover of darkness, I dart beyond the wall and race across the dunes. Even running full speed, the meeting place is hours away. I only hope she’ll be there when I arrive.

  The moon hangs low in the sky tonight. The wispy clouds that drift across its face cast long shadows over the land. Tajss is beautiful at night. The sand, now rendered in shades of black and white, creates soft patterns with its striations. Letting my mind drift, the distance flies by without incident until at last I see the rock ahead. Catching a second wind, inspiration from being so close to her, I pour on the speed.

  When I get to our rock, there is no sign of her. She’s gone. Damn it. Damn it all!

  Kicking the sand, a sudden rage grips me, and I punch the rock. The shock of pain cuts through my rage bringing me back to my senses. I missed her. Damn you, Visidion, for putting me through this. You should make your female change her mind!

  Looking around, empty anger consuming my thoughts, the pattern of rocks laid out on the sand catches my attention. A circle—that can’t be natural.

  I kneel and lean in close to see it better, and just then a cloud clears the moon and soft light illuminates the heart drawn in the circle. My own heart skips a beat seeing it. She left this for me. I know it, it has to be her.

  Sighing I rise. She was here, so she’s okay. At least I know that much.

  They’ll need food. Every time we meet, I kill something that she can later find to feed them. I can’t do it often enough to keep them well fed but at least she’s not starving. She’ll come looking, so I better leave something.

  Kicking the rocks until they look random again, I turn my attention to finding a bivo. I’ll leave it close to here. If I stay with it until shortly before sunrise, it should be safe from other predators. Looking across the distance, I can see the dim outline of the humans’ ship rising into the sky. Sarah is there. An urge to rush in and take her grips me suddenly. Unexpected, it’s so strong I’m walking forward before I think.

  I can’t. She wouldn’t come if I did.

  She and I owe everything to Visidion and Rosalind. We can’t betray them no matter how much I wish we could. Sighing, I turn away to hunt down a bivo for her to find.

  5

  Sarah

  “Don’t do this,” Drosdan implores.

  “I have to,” I say, tears streaming down my face.

  “You are my treasure,” he says, as his strong hands grip my shoulders and pull me into him.

  My breasts smash against his chest, my nipples harden to points, and wetness forms between my legs as his bulging erection digs into my stomach. It’s so big, straining against the cloth of his pants.

  “Yes,” I exhale.

  “Mine,” he says, hands grabbing my ass, squeezing.

  “Yours,” I breathe.

  He lifts me off my feet, pulling me up to meet his lips. My clit throbs, tight, needful. His tongue drives into my mouth claiming it as his. I open my mouth to welcome his advance, moaning into his kiss.

  Turning, he presses me against the wall, bulging muscles crushing me in just the right way.…

  “Sarah, wake up!”

  The dream shatters. As soon as I blink my eyes open, bright light assaults them. Covering my eyes with my hands, smacking my lips, I wave away whoever is hovering over me.

  “Go away,” I mutter, my throat so dry and parched that it comes out as a croak.

  “No way,” Tessa says.

  Rolling over and throwing an arm over my eyes, I ignore her. She grabs my shoulder and pulls me back towards her.

  “No,” I grouse. “Let me sleep.”

  “You’ve already slept half the day,” she says.

  “But it was a good dream,” I sigh, slamming my hands against the floor.

  “Any dream is better than here,” she agrees. “But we have to get moving. You’re supposed to lead a patrol for food.”

  I finally open my eyes, groan, and sit up.

  “Damn it,” I bitch.

  “I know,” Tessa says, shrugging.

  “What time is it?” I ask, wiping sleep from my eyes.

  “Suns have been up for at least four or five hours,” she says. “You’re sleeping the day away!”

  I stretch and yawn. As far as she’s concerned I’ve slept for a lot of hours, but she doesn’t know I was out until sunrise.

  “Fine,” I say, rising to my feet. “Is there anything left for breakfast at least?”

  Tessa’s face falls and it’s all the answer I need. Another day of tightening the belt. Hopefully Drosdan made it and left something for me to find. If not, we’re going to be going hungry again.

  “T
hey cut the rations again,” Tessa says.

  Nodding I exhale hard then square my shoulders.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Maybe we’ll have good luck today. Then we’ll eat like Queens tonight.”

  “Yeah,” Tessa smiles.

  My clit throbs, the empty ache in my core begging to be filled as the last vestiges of my dream cling to my thoughts. It’s distracting to have such thoughts overriding the basic need to survive. It’s not like I’ve slept with Drosdan, so how can I be missing something I haven’t had? There’s never been time in my life for a lover. On the ship I was just coming of age, and since we’ve been here my work with Rosalind has taken up all my time.

  Besides, no man ever caught my attention, not in that way anyway. Stomachs grumbling, Tessa and I make our way out of the quarters we share with the other three girls. I need something to get my mind off of that dream. I can’t get it out of my head. He felt so good pressing against me, holding me against that wall, his tongue driving into my mouth and his cock digging into my stomach.

  Is his cock really as big as I dreamed? I know the rumors about the Zmaj cocks, but are they true? If they are, can it fit in me? I know other girls have, obviously, but we’re not all made the same. What if he hurts me? What if it feels too good?

  Stop! Good god, Sarah, get a grip.

  “So, Jackson,” I say, trying to divert my attention.

  Tessa looks over, her face flushing bright red. Then she quickly hangs her head, covering her face with her hair.

  “He’s fine,” she says, not looking.

  “That much is obvious,” I tease.

  “Oh!” she exclaims, shaking her head, and I laugh.

  “So did you?” I ask.

  “Did I?” she asks, then suddenly she looks at me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

  “Yeah, did you?” I grin.

  “He… I… we… uh…” she sputters, unable to get a word out.

  “Uh-huh?” I encourage, not letting her off the hook.

  “It’s… I… well… you know, he’s… nice,” she says, shaking her head.

  “Nice?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says, nodding, confidence growing.

  “How nice?” I ask, arching an eyebrow, taking a perverse pleasure in putting her through the wringer.

  Anything is better than the tight ache in my core that keeps pulling at my attention.

  “Nice, you know,” she shrugs.

  “Is he nice… down there?” I ask.

  “Oh god, Sarah!” she exclaims, and I laugh letting her off the hook at last.

  “I’m teasing,” she says. “I’m glad you two are getting along. It must be nice to have someone,” I say.

  “Do you have anyone?”

  “No,” I lie. “No one for me.”

  “I could to talk to Jackson, I’m sure he’d help,” she offers.

  “No!” I exclaim too quickly, and the consequences for my vehemence are the surprise and confusion on her face.

  “I was just offering,” she says, hurt.

  “I’m sorry, it’s… fine. I’m not interested, you know? I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

  “I get that,” she says. “We’d all be a lot worse off without you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, my core pulsing its need again. “I need to do something before we head out, could you go tell the others I’ll be along pretty quick. Maybe they can clean the guns before we go out?”

  “Sure,” she says, smiling.

  I can’t get him out of my head. Is he okay? Of course he’s okay. Then why wasn’t he there last night?

  Something delayed him, that’s all. He’s fine. So, so damn fine. Big, strong, muscles bulging in so many places. The dream creeps out of the recesses of my thoughts, consuming them. My face is flushing warm again as I feel him pressing against me, holding me tight, his strong hands working my ass.

  I’ve got to have relief. I can’t go out hunting this distracted.

  I glance up and down the hall—I’m alone. An idea pops up, and I make my way quickly through the ship, over the bulkhead, and into the old showers. The ship is mostly on its side, so I have to lower myself down onto a sink, and then climb down to what is now the floor. I stop and listen.

  “Anyone in here?” I ask.

  My voice echoes off the metal and porcelain of the shower room slash bathroom. I don’t want to be caught, so I go to the nearest stall and shut the door behind me, just in case someone does come exploring.

  The latch clicks, metal on metal, then I slide down to sit on the floor. I let the memory of the dream swim up to the surface of my mind. Spreading my legs wide, sliding my hand into my pants, fingers seeking my core. Wetness guides me in. When those fingers pass over my clit, a shudder runs through me as pleasure explodes, causing muscles to spasm and clench tight.

  Biting my lip to hold back my moan, I let my fingers become his.

  Pressing hard, circling, he works my clit, preparing me. He kisses his way along my shoulder, my neck, across my cheek to my lips. His tongue drives into my mouth as his hand presses hard against me, moving faster.

  I can’t hold back a groan, he feels so good. Wetness forms on my delicate lips, inviting more.

  Sliding a finger in, probing deep, it’s nowhere near the size of him. His hot kisses claim my lips over and over as his hand works faster. I grab my breasts with my free hand and tease them through my shirt. The fabric moves across the hard nipples making my thoughts explode.

  Sliding a second finger inside myself, soft walls expanding to accommodate, closer to what I imagine his hand would be.

  I let my breast go, finding my clit with that hand and rubbing it. Hard, fast circles as I drive the fingers of my other hand in and out. My wetness easily takes my two fingers, but I know he’s so much bigger than this still. Can I take him?

  The way his cock dug into my stomach in my dream, being crushed between us—it was huge. All the girls have talked about how big the Zmaj are, and not just big either. In hushed whispers, especially here in this camp, they talk about the ribs. How good it would feel to have those hard ridges sliding into you. That’s what the experienced girls say, but what do I know of it?

  Bigger. He’s going to be bigger, and I want him. Want him to fill me with his massive, huge cock, driving deep inside me just like my fingers are, seeking out my core. Filling the pounding need inside me. This time when I pull my fingers out of my slick tunnel, I add a third before shoving them in again. Deep inside myself, I spread my fingers out, forcing my body to adjust to something bigger than it’s ever had in it before.

  That sensation rips its way through me, my muscles contract, my back arches, and I’m moaning through my clenched teeth, unable to hold back. Pressing hard against my clit as the spasms cause shuddering responses until, at last, the pleasure passes. Collapsing backwards, breathless, panting as my heart pounds in my chest. Slowly I catch my breath and the flush on my skin cools. I stand up and straighten my clothes before exiting the stall.

  I’ve kept them waiting long enough. I have to hurry.

  What used to be hangar bay is now the main living area of the Gershom’s camp. It’s the point where the ship opens onto the world outside. Stacked crates form a wall between inside and out, but the double red suns shine bright in this area, and sand forms most of the floor. People are all over this area, some of them working, some lounging around. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot to do, a weakness of Gershom’s. Rosalind understands that if you keep people busy, they are happier. It gives them something to think about besides how bad their situation is.

  It’s a key difference between him and her. I’ve done what I can to encourage people to be active and busy, but I’m not the leader. There’s been little to no progress in making the ship into a home. Little to no progress in increasing the odds of our survival either. Tessa, Jackson, and Brian, another guy who fancies himself a hunter, are waiting by the opening in the crates that leads outside. Plastic tarps cover the opening, rattlin
g in the hot breeze that almost always seems to be blowing across the dunes of Tajss.

  “About time,” Jackson says as I approach.

  “Right,” I say, carefully not thinking about my side trip. “Ready to go?”

  “We’ve been ready,” Brian says, motioning between the three of them.

  “Okay,” I say, ignoring the implied questions. “Let’s roll out.”

  Grumbling, they pick up the packs at their feet and I grab mine. Taking weapons from a nearby table, we emerge onto the white striations of the sand dune. Rolling sand stretches before us all the way to the horizon. Color variations, shades of red to white, make it beautiful to look at. If only it didn’t suck so bad living in this interminable heat. Holding hope that Drosdan did make it last night, I set off in the direction of our meeting place.

  “Why are we going this way again?” Brian asks. “We should set out the other direction.”

  “Why?” I ask. “We’ve had good luck going this way, why break the pattern?”

  “Because how many times can we luck onto a dead bivo in the same direction?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  Staring at him I wonder if he suspects the truth. No, how could he? I’ve been really careful about this.

  “Look, it’s what works. You want to lead your own group, you go do that. Got it?” I ask, hands on hips leaning towards him aggressively.

  Thank you Rosalind. Rosalind says when someone is onto your plan, attack, don’t retreat. It makes you look guilty if you back off.

  “Fine,” Brian huffs, stepping back. “We’ll go your way, again.”

  “Good,” I snap.

  Tessa and Jackson look between the two of us, carefully not getting involved. Pushing past them, I head across the desert. The double red suns beat down. The heat is oppressive and the sand pulls down, sucking us in. Traveling on Tajss, if you’re human, sucks. The Zmaj are built for this place—we’re not. Lana built some shoes for getting across the desert, but everything went to shit back in the City before anyone could make enough to hand around. Thanks, Gershom, dick.