Tropical Dragons Series Box Set: Venys Needs Men: Books 1-3 with Exclusive Short Story

by Lucas, Naomi

  “I do not care for human law,” he utters.

  Mother tugs me back, brow furrowed and flashing him a look of annoyance. “My daughter saved your life, tended your wounds, and has given you shelter. Soon you will be fed. You will obey our laws while you are a guest here, male. Unless you forgo our shelter and choose to leave?” She sounds hopeful.

  His gaze mutes when he looks at her. “Leave? No, I will not leave, not yet,” he says. “But make no mistake, human, your daughter owes me a great debt. One night of shelter does not begin to cover what she has stolen from me.”

  Mother’s mouth purses. “Go, Aida. Talk to them. They’re waiting. Your father is waiting. I will stay here with—what do you call yourself, male?” she asks.

  The light briefly returns to his eyes. “Zaeyr,” he announces, straightening.

  “Zaeyr,” I whisper. He turns to face me, flashing me a look of ferocious desire. Zaeyr. I like it. I like it so much more than any other male name I’ve ever heard. “Wait here,” I say quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

  I’m forced to bear the weight of his heavy stare before I turn and duck through the tent entrance. A sliver of coldness runs through me as I walk to the central fire and face the two men and two old females before me.

  Nata and Drea are the last of the grandmothers. Nata is a great-aunt to me, my oldest living relative since my grandmother passed away years ago. Stagie and Tabach are the last of the old men.

  Though Tabach is my father, he is twice the age of my mother. His first mate could not conceive children, and after many years of failure, Tabach mated my mother, Shyn, when she came of age, producing me and my sister, who she raised with the tribe’s help. They do not live together, but they are amicable. Mother takes care of him in the elder huts where he now resides.

  There are two other males in the tribe, but while they are far from young, they are not considered elders. Milaye’s father and another, each produced only female children. Oled, Nata’s son (and one of the very few males born here in the last generations) was sent to Shell Rock many, many years ago to keep the bloodlines pure. Shell Rock is where Leith was born and his elder sister, my best friend Issa, will one day become matriarch.

  “Sit, Aida,” Nata tells me. I drop to my knees with a winded sigh. I’m too tired to care about anything except what they say and getting back to Zaeyr. Nata’s brow furrows, and she hands me a loaf of bread and cheese. I bite into it with gusto. “You know why you’re here,” she asks.

  I swallow. “Yes.”

  “You brought a strange male into our caves,” Tabach says. “A male with substantial life-threatening wounds we’ve been told.”

  I set the bread down. “He’s healing. His wounds are almost gone now. He’s awake.”

  The elders glance at each other. “How?”

  But before I can answer, they argue.

  “Is it true he’s a dragon transformed? Are the rumors true? Awake you say?”

  Nata quips. “Dragons haven’t been seen in these lands since before I was born!”

  “If he’s a dragon, will he harm us?” Drea’s croaky voice stops the others.

  Holding up my hand, I try to answer, but Tabach levels me with a look. My father and I don’t speak often; in fact, he’s only a father to me in name. But when we do talk, I’m intimidated.

  He may be old, but he’s still strong, and his voice still holds that strength.

  “Daughter, did you encounter a dragon in the storm and touch him?” he asks.

  “Yes, I did.”

  Silence descends as their gazes fall on me with wonder.

  “What happened?” Nata inquires.

  Inhaling, I tell my father and the others what happened, starting from the bridge to the dragons clashing on the beach… But after that, I keep some of the details to myself. They don’t need to know about the overwhelming sensations I get whenever Zaeyr and I touch. Or my obsession with him that only grows and grows…

  Even now, with thick hides and yards between us, I feel him as if he’s sitting beside me. I know he’s not, but I’m colder now sitting next to a fire then when my body was warm next to his.

  The elders glance between each other again.

  Father faces me. “The messenger that came from the north mentioned a bond… Have you… are you bonded?” he trails off.

  Flushing, my chest tightens. “I-I don’t know.” I don’t want to tell them. I can’t lie, though. If I mate Zaeyr—which almost already happened—they’ll all know that there is something between us. “There’s something, something that happens when I’m near him.” I gulp.

  Nata squints. “Which is?”

  “My body grows very warm and comforted in his presence.” It’s not the entire truth but it’s enough. That I’m wet and achy between my legs and half my thoughts are about finding relief—that I keep to myself.

  “Do you think he feels the same?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m comfortable asking…”

  “He speaks our language?”

  I nod.

  “Hmm,” Drea grumbles, rubbing her chin. “If he is unmated, I wonder if he would accept a female from our tribe and join with us.”

  My chest squeezes painfully.

  Tabach interjects. “We would like to meet him. You say his wounds are healing and he’s awake. Do you think he is strong enough to face us?”

  I open my mouth to answer when the tent flutters behind me, and there’s a chorus of collective gasps.

  Zaeyr’s voice resounds before I can twist around. “I am strong enough to face anything, let alone humans.”

  He doesn’t think much of us. My hands ball into fists. But he moves to stand behind me and when I look up at him, his gaze flashes hot and heavy towards me before pinning the elders. My back straightens as the rush of heat returns. Holding in a gasp, it’s almost too much.

  My mother rushes in behind him. “I’m sorry! I tried to stop him!”

  “It’s okay, Shyn.” Tabach coughs, rising slowly to his feet to welcome Zaeyr by the fire. Shyn goes to his side to help him. “Please join us—” he hesitates “—dragon, and sit.”

  “No.”

  10

  Sleeping with Dragons

  It seems like half the morning has gone by before I’m able to leave the tent. I’m a shaking, confused mess.

  Hoping to question Zaeyr in private, the elders asked me to leave on several occasions, but Zaeyr refused to stay without me. After the third time trying, they stopped.

  Milaye’s sisters are long gone by the time we emerge and have been replaced by others with spears and bone knives. Zaeyr grips my arm, making the female guards tense, but nothing happens when I allow him to lead me away. Stumbling from exhaustion, he catches me and keeps me upright, making me lean into him for support.

  I hate how good it feels.

  But I sense my father’s scornful gaze on my back as we leave.

  Despite all our time talking, the elders refused to accept there’s a bond between us. And because Zaeyr would not say one way or another, he left me alone to justify my body’s dire response to him while they talked and talked. It hurt. I hurt.

  At least he refused to leave my side, even when Drea offered him a place in our tribe and a mate of the elder’s choosing, promising peace between our species and for children bred from his loins.

  Zaeyr made it clear—shockingly, embarrassingly so—that he would take who he pleases, and no one, let alone meddling old humans, would tell him otherwise.

  The elders don’t like their power denied.

  They didn’t so much as look at me, mention me, or bring me up at all except for his transformation. It was as if I wasn’t even there, wasn’t even considered…

  I don’t get it. What have I done?

  We enter the main cave, and I look around to see half the tribe is gone, fires burnt out, and those who remain are carrying supplies back out. The storm’s passed, I realize and head for the exit. Zaeyr’s hold on me tightens, sto
pping me.

  “No. You need sleep.”

  “I should be helping my—” Glancing up at him, I know there’s no point arguing. He leads me back to our spot up on the ledge, hides us from intrusive eyes, and I lie down. I hear him growl at the guards but once my head hits cushioned hides, any cares I have left cease.

  Sleep overtakes me immediately.

  Blissful, peaceful sleep.

  Sleep that ends all too soon when I wake sometime later breathless and sweaty, with my legs open.

  Heart thundering, gasping, I sit up, only to be stopped by a large body and large hands. They grasp my shoulders and force me down. I nearly scream. Peering wildly up through the darkness, Zaeyr’s glowing blue eyes light the shadows between us.

  The torchlight is near gone.

  We stare at each other. His hand slides up to cup my throat in warning. I swallow. He pets me. Swallowing again, I realize I’m completely naked.

  And wet.

  “What?” I whisper. “How?” Nervousness ricochets through me.

  His gaze narrows.

  “Your elder humans do not choose for me,” is all he says. He leans down and licks my cheek.

  Shocked, I go rigid.

  He got my clothes off while I slept. And the wetness, I realize, the wetness is on my skin. His tongue laps at me.

  I know where the dampness came from…

  Zaeyr is like a nightwalker, plucking out my most ardent, hopeless fantasies, and offering them up. A sliver of fear tears through me, fear for what’s happening, but also mindless, quaking excitement.

  “To defy them,” I force out as the hot slide of his tongue tastes my face, my ear. “It could mean exile.”

  His teeth graze my lobe. “Dragons nest alone.”

  Shivering, pressing my hands to his shoulders for space. He gives me none. “Are you choosing me?” I ask.

  He rises to meet my eyes. “We are bonded, human.”

  It’s not what I asked, not what I want to hear. My heart sinks a little. “I choose you,” I tell him honestly.

  His gaze darkens and he rises further. A chill drifts across me from the distance. “You touched me, human. You stole my immortality and my great form. I was an alpha! An ancient!” His voice rises. “I ruled the gulf in its entirety. And now… now other dragons, lessers, will come in and take it and there is nothing I can do to stop them! I was feared by all, and now I am human, a weak creature.”

  I push him off me and sit up. “Humans are not weak. I am not weak. On the beach, you didn’t pull back when I reached out to you. I needed to touch you and I think you wanted me to and would have let me if the other dragon hadn’t come. You were just as entranced as I!”

  He growls, his eyes flash brightly, and smoke trails from his mouth between us. Grabbing the edge of a blanket, I cover myself.

  “You are weak for denying the truth between us. Perhaps I chose wrong,” I gripe, searching for my clothes.

  His growl abruptly ends, and that unnerves me more than any sound he could ever make.

  I tense, but the next moment I’m on my front with my hips in the air, his hand pushing on my back while the other bands under my waist. A shriek escapes me, but no one comes. Is anyone left in the caves?

  When the silence continues, I know we’re alone. Had Zaeyr frightened the guards off?

  “You have already made your choice, Aida.” His hot breath fans my backside. “You made it for both of us. I will show you how weak you are.”

  Before I can struggle, his tongue lashes hard between my legs. Stunned, his tongue lashes again—twice more—forcing my legs to spread as it dips and tastes every private place I have, shooting waves of pleasure and embarrassment through me. “That is it, human. Submit. Submit like your body begs you to.” His tongue finds my core and shoves into me. His words hit home.

  “No!” I shriek, ramming back with all my might. “I am the best huntress of my tribe. You will not see me submit!”

  Zaeyr falls back, and I find my bone dagger atop my discarded skirt. Grabbing it, I jump on top of him and, straddling him, press it to his throat. His eyes widen as his hands grip my hips. I press the dagger harder.

  “Aida,” he rasps.

  “If you want to mate a human female, dragon, you will mate her in the way she has been prepared.” It’s my turn to growl. Elders be damned. I have earned the right of this choice. “You will submit to me!” I take his girthy cock with my free hand and squeeze it. Rising, wet and dripping, I poise his wide head at my entrance and settle over it.

  Keeping my knife to his throat, I push myself down onto his prick. His hands grip my waist. He doesn’t stop me.

  Wrenching my eyes shut, I work myself onto him. My core expands to try and accommodate his size. When I finally get his tip into me, tears are trailing down my cheeks. I stop, allowing my body to adjust.

  “Keep going, human,” he orders with a gravelly voice. “Prove your point, or I will throw you back beneath me.”

  Heat surges somewhere inside me at his words. “You wouldn’t dare,” I gasp, nearly dumbfounded by the sensations. I can do this. I release the dagger and take his girth with both of my hands and work my body over him.

  Hurts. Noises escape. It hurts, but it’s perfect. I always knew losing my innocence was going to be hard, but this… This is hard and delicious. Zaeyr’s hands leave my waist to cup my buttcheeks as I begin moving up and down—a little at a time, slowly moving onto his huge girth—adjusting more with each second.

  I’m spread wide, stretched. But then I reach my barrier and pinpricks of pain seize me.

  I stop.

  Forcing my gaze to his, it’s wild and ferocious and dangerously heated. A flash of his dragon form surges to my thoughts. My small human form, taking his lumbering dragon’s prick, which—in my vision—is nearly as big as I am.

  His hands knead my cheeks, bringing me back. Yet it still feels like I’m taking his dragon’s body into me. Too much, too large…

  “Well?” he taunts. “Do you give up?”

  “I’m…” I gasp again, shuddering. “I’m at my breaking point.”

  Something rough caresses my back, and I see his tail move beside me. My eyes widen for a stunned moment.

  “Excuses,” he accuses, his nails biting into the flesh of my behind.

  Shaking my head, I whimper, “Any more and my innocence will tear.”

  His eyes narrow. “Tear?”

  Searching for relief, I move a little up and down his tip, wincing. “I’ve never been breached before… I’ll tear the first time it happens. I may be a huntress, I may be prepared,” my voice is breathy. “But you’re—you may be too big. I can’t.” I hate the failure in my voice.

  I’m barely aware of his body stiffening beneath me while blinking back the tears on my lashes.

  And then, when I start to rise, he thrusts his hips up into me, forcing me to take all of him—breaking me. I cry out and drive upward—sparks shoot across my vision—but he clamps my hips with his hands and traps me on to him.

  Oh, waters! My head fills with curses.

  Pain and pleasure flood my body.

  “Now you have been penetrated, human, by me. And only me.”

  11

  Mating a Human

  Strangling tight, gloriously hot and deep, I force myself inside my human disregarding her misgivings.

  “You will take me now. You will take me until you are seeded,” I warn. “The mating heat will not end otherwise, and it will only grow worse.”

  Aida does not respond.

  “The smallest femdragon accepts males twice her size.”

  She falls against my chest, hands curled into fists, eyes tightly shut. She shakes deliciously. Supple, enchanting. She tries to move off me again and again, but I keep her mounted, knowing it will ease. I will work her until she eases, I snarl inwardly.

  She rubs her slick brow upon my chest. Sitting up, I wrap one of my arms around her and seek her softness, the scent of her flowery sweat.
<
br />   “It hurts,” she whimpers.

  “Shhh. Take it, take me.”

  I slowly start caressing her flesh, massaging and petting every place I can reach without shifting her. Soothing her. My instincts win over my need to punish her.

  Before long, the tension radiating from her eases at my coaxing. Good, human.

  Relax.

  My hand pushes down between us, where her core is spread, filled with my thrumming cock, and my fingers discover a strange nub.

  She moans and jerks as I pass over it, so I do it again, my cock liking the movement. If she is willing to submit…

  I need it. Her submission.

  I have lost all, but I can gain this. I want this. For endless years, I have wanted the prize of being chosen by a female, prepared my lonely sapphire caves for a future mate.

  Tapping her nub, flicking it, my female’s moans grow—soft and sweet to my ears. My balls rise even higher, the pressure in my loins builds with each sound. I need her to move, to slide her tight sheath over my achingly sensitive human shaft, but I will not force it, instead working more moans out of her.

  She will do it herself when she is ready.

  Her brow rises from my chest, and the touch of her lips press to the scales on my torso, she dabs her tongue out to taste them, and mindless hunger floods me.

  “Aida,” I rasp, against my better judgment, showing her weakness. I rub her nub faster, harder.

  Delighting when she flings back and grabs my thighs. Her gasps are music to my ears. Her long hair falls back and tickles my legs.

  I like hair, her silky hair, I realize. I like this human softness…

  Her core clenches. A little seed shoots into her. “See, human,” I groan. “You accept me. Now prove your skills.” Her nails dig into my legs at my goading.

  She lifts herself off me, slowly at first, tensely, then lowers. She does this again several more times, each rise and fall making my teeth grit for control—her tightness a punishment and a pleasure at the same time. But as she continues, her heat and pheromones fill the space between us, and she begins moving faster.