Night of the Dragons Read online

  I almost forget Emerald is there because I'm so focused on what Danger is doing. Until he reaches around me to cup my breasts, squeezing the soft mounds gently in his cool hands. Pinching my already hard nipples between his teasing fingers. I arch at the sharp sensation, the feeling sending an answering warmth between my legs.

  That's when one of Fire's hands finally moves between my legs, where I can feel the heat gathering, pooling as my excitement grows. His fingers slide through my folds, exploring, touching every inch of me gently, my own slickness helping him glide across. Well—touching almost every inch. There's one in particular that he stays away from, much to my frustration. He deliberately teases me, rubbing on either side of my clit, smoothing his hand just above, teasing my entrance with a fingertip below. He never quite touches me there directly, where I'm throbbing with the need to be caressed.

  I moan as Royal strokes my face lightly, leaning down to whisper in my ear. His low, husky voice sends shivers down my spine, his hot breath sending goosebumps down my neck. I can't understand a word of what he's saying. But it's still fucking sexy. The tone, the desire in it, the thread of demand. Yeah. I don't know what he's saying, but I really wish I did.

  I open my eyes slightly as they continue to tease me, feeling almost drugged by the sensations overtaking my body. They lap at me as gently as the water around us, just as all-encompassing.

  My eyes move to Fire’s intense gaze as he steps back. Watching. His abs are clenched, his muscles standing out, every strong inch of his torso on display, wet with water. My eyes slowly slide down his body, the muscles there rippling as he moves his arm rhythmically. That's when I notice his hands are now under the water. I can't quite see them from this angle. But there's no mistaking the jerking motion of his forearm. He can only be doing one thing.

  Another bolt of arousal shivers through my body at the realization. I lick my lips as I raise my eyes back to his, scanning all that smooth skin, wishing I could see his hand wrapped around his erection too. See how he likes it. How hard he's squeezing his cock. When I reach his face, he's still watching me as he touches himself, his eyes mesmerizing in their lust. I can't look away from the heat there, from the driving need that I can sympathize with.

  Even as Danger's hands drive me right to the edge and no further. Coming so close to where I want him to touch me. I can't take it anymore. I can't.

  "Please," I murmur, trying to move my hips towards his clever fingers, trying to get them where I want them. I know he can't understand my words, but I know he can understand my body, how it's moving against him, and the fact that I'm now unashamedly begging for what I want. For what I need. There's no room for shame, not with the way I need it.

  "Please," I moan again, my nails digging into the back of his neck, into his shoulder, skating the gorgeous, sharp edge of oblivion.

  Please.

  8

  "Please."

  I try again to wiggle closer to those talented fingers without success, letting out a frustrated sound. I can't even reach down and take care of it myself, not with the way Emerald is holding me. I'm so close I can almost taste it. And it's driving me crazy.

  Danger pauses. Royal whispers something else into my ear, his voice even deeper now, with a raspy edge that sends tingles right through me.

  Danger takes pity on me, finally. I go still as I feel his fingers slide up, holding my breath. He presses down firmly, right on my clitoris. I cry out, my body stiffening at the direct pressure, my clitoris so sensitized already it feels like he's doing so much more than just touching it. It feels so good.

  But I still don't fall over that edge. I'm so close to it, but that touch isn't quite enough to throw me over. I bite my lip, shutting my eyes tight as I turn my head, straining against him.

  Then his other hand moves down between my legs. He pushes two fingers inside me, slowly and carefully. They stretch me, firing up all the nerve endings there, filling me deliciously. Just then he starts drawing firm circles over where I'm most sensitive.

  That's it. That's all I can take.

  My hands clamp down onto Emerald's arms as I buck under Danger's touch, the quickest and strongest orgasm I've ever had tearing through me in a sweeping burn of sensation. I'm blind to everything around me as it swamps me, drowns me in that beautiful, almost painful pleasure. The kind that feels so necessary and so overpowering simultaneously. I writhe in their arms as I clamp down on Danger's fingers, almost fighting against the feelings swamping me.

  Royal is crooning something to me in that raspy voice, while Danger’s fingers still work their magic, forcing me to ride my orgasm until I simply can't any more. Until my body is done. Until I'm wrung out with nothing left to give. I relax, still panting, feeling weak from the pleasure. Like it's taken everything I had left, leaving me empty. Empty and new, in an odd way. I marvel at the glowing feeling. I feel like someone hit the reset button on my body.

  It takes some time for my eyes to slowly focus again as I lie limply in Emerald and Danger's arms, feeling like I couldn't move a muscle for the life of me. I was not expecting that. Not at all. I don't quite know how to react.

  Now that I'm not in the midst of the orgasm or in the intense lead up to it, all of my insecurities and inhibitions start to creep back in, reminding me of exactly where I am and what I'm doing. Not the best line of thought after I just felt so good. As my eyes sharpen and I come back to the present, I realize I'm still facing Fire.

  He's definitely still watching me, his face tight, his eyes almost blazing with heat now. He just watched me orgasm. I feel awkwardness trying to take over, though it's not as strong as it would have been if I hadn't just come. Really, really hard, thank you so much.

  I know I should feel more embarrassed than I'm feeling right now. And I will probably be very embarrassed later, but I still feel too good for it to make more than a dent in my mood. But then he steps forward, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, drawing my attention down to it.

  My heart skips a beat as I get my first real look at it, without even the flimsy wet cloth covering it now. I think vaguely that they must have moved us to a more shallow area of the pool without my realizing for him to be out of the water like that. I was pretty distracted, so no surprise there.

  But that cock . . . that thing is a downright monster! Nearly the size of my forearm, it's ribbed and textured in a way I've never seen, completely alien looking in the little extra bumps along the top and the base, even apart from the sheer size of it. But really, I can't help staring at it because it's just so damn big.

  Fire takes another step towards me, his hand sliding up and down his shaft, his intentions clear as his eyes move down between my legs, where I'm open and ready after my orgasm. But not that open and ready!

  Alarm spears through me, jolting me out of my post-orgasmic glow with a hard snap. I'm surprised I don't hear it echoing around me the break is so absolute. Oh no. Oh, no no no. I am so not ready for that thing! Let alone four of them! No way it can fit! I'm not about to let myself be hurt like that if I can help it. Nope.

  "No," I say firmly, shaking my head as I yank my legs out of Danger's loosened hold. I think it's just surprise at the abrupt change that has him letting go so easily, frowning in confusion as he watches me. Then I push off of Emerald. He tries to hold me for a second but lets me go when he realizes I'm not going to stop trying to get out of his hold. I don't know what I would have done if he'd held on anyway. I don't know if there's anything I could have done, and that right there sends a fresh frisson of fear through me. I'm so outclassed here in terms of strength, even against just one of them. If they want to, they could do just about anything.

  "No way. Not happening," I reiterate as I drop back down, treading water under my own steam.

  I guess I could move a muscle with the right incentive, though this isn't the most fun way to find that out, is it? I worry they're going to be angry at my reaction, that they'll start that growling, snarling thing all over again. But the
y look more confused than anything. Upset and frustrated, maybe a little sad as I glance around at their faces. But they don't look angry. Just uncomprehending and bemused at my reaction. Like they weren't expecting it at all. It calms me a little to see that they aren't angry. Okay, it's going to be fine.

  "I'm sorry...I just...I can't," I say as I swim over to the edge. "It's—they're—too big. We obviously aren't built to be together like that."

  None of them try to stop me as I climb out of the water, my body feeling empty, like I still need something more than what I got. Like I need to be filled with more than Danger's fingers. But what does it know? Stupid body. No way can I take something that size. It's just not possible. No way, no how. Full stop, period.

  I quickly crouch to grab my clothes and turn around to face the water and them. I hold the clothing up in front of me like the world's flimsiest shield as I back away from the water, all four of them turning to stare at me, still sporting those rock-hard erections, their muscles glittering from the sunlight hitting the water drops splashed on their torsos. Looking like a particularly kinky dream, one that I wouldn't mind having. If their cocks were just a more manageable size. And if they looked happier.

  Royal's face has settled into an unreadable expression, Danger's face is grim, Fire's looks disappointed, and Emerald's looks downright frustrated. He actually takes a small step towards me, but Royal hold a hand out to him, stopping him from following me. So none of them try to stop me as I back away from them. Thank God.

  "I'm really sorry," I babble as I edge back. "But we just won't fit. There's no way." I look away, unable to meet their frustrated, disappointed looks. "I'm sorry," I say again, more quietly. "I really am." I shake my head, angry at myself. "I should never have let it go so far in the first place."

  Then I turn around, stumbling through that stupid red sand, heading in the direction of the cliff side, needing to just be away. Away from the situation. Well, away from them and their feelings.

  When I think I'm hidden behind one of the trees, I quickly shake my clothes out to get rid of the coating of sand and pull them back on before forcing my weak legs to move, to take me back to the caves.

  I'm not careful when I jam my feet back into my shoes, so I have an uncomfortable amount of that red sand that's quickly becoming the bane of my existence in them, but I don't stop to take it out. I need to get more space between them and me before I stop at all. So I keep going, the sand rubbing at me uncomfortably. I don't know why it's so imperative I leave them behind quickly. I mean, I'm going back to their home—they know I have nowhere else to go. And they could have stopped me before I left if they wanted to. But even though I know all of that, I can't stop myself from almost running away. It makes me feel better, even though, practically speaking, I'm not really escaping anything. My heartbeat picks up as I dwell on that, so I push it away. Best not to think of that right now when I'm already so close to a panic attack.

  The distance feels much longer going back than it did heading out to the oasis. I know it's because of how I feel and nothing else. The suns are hot enough that the water still left on me dries off on the walk, even my hair drying before I get all the way back. It probably looks like a frizzy mess, but I can't bring myself to care. So what if I look like Ronald McDonald, that old fast food mascot? The only ones to see me here are the dragon men. Maybe looking less attractive will only be for the better. Not that I'm a beauty queen when I'm all cleaned up...

  I feel like I'm drowning in my own thoughts at this point. I try to shut them off with only a modicum of success.

  Eventually, I do make it back to the solid-rock pathway that leads up to the caves, despite the slow going and the mental morass I've been trying not to sink into.

  Yay.

  I look at the ramp with some trepidation. I'm already out of breath from wading through that sand. But there's no help for it—I have to get up there, unless I want to wait for the dragon men to get back and carry me up. That thought is what galvanizes me passed my body's exhaustion. I cannot handle any of them that close to me right now. I need some space. And I guess that space is going to be hard won.

  Clenching my jaw, I force my trembling body up that ramp. It isn't that steep of an incline, but you wouldn't be able to tell from how difficult it is for me to climb it in my state. But I make it to the top. And then to one of the storage caves I'd explored before I left. I know I saw some furs and other soft-looking items that I can use to make a bed like the ones I saw in the dragon men's caves.

  I wait for a moment to allow my eyes to adjust, then I make a beeline for where I remember they were. Bingo. I grab a bunch of the heavy furs and some mat-like things, along with what looks like a comb for my hair, a small stool, what must be a type of broom I think, and a basket filled with a few things I don't recognize. I put those things back into another container in there and just take the basket, dumping the things I gathered into it to make them easier to carry. After everything is in the basket though, I take a moment to rest, my arms and back shaking a little from the effort of picking up all those heavy furs and mats.

  I've never wished I was a seven-foot-tall dragon man before, but right then I really wish I was. I do recover my strength, such as it is. After the rest, I take my loot to one of the empty caves. The trek isn't pretty. I half-carry, half-drag the basket, the small of my back aching. Luckily, the cave I have my eye on isn't too far.

  I drag the basket inside it and then set the basket down. After another much-needed rest, I take the broom and clean up as best I can. I mean, it is a cave. I don't know if it can really be made spotless. Figuring I've cleaned it enough, I pile the soft mats and the thick furs onto the ground in a long rectangle, making a passable nest for myself. I stare down at it as I catch my breath again. I feel like it's always running away from me. Ha ha. I roll my eyes at my own bad joke, sighing. That's about all I have the energy to do right now. I'll have to attempt to comb my hair another time.

  Dropping down onto the makeshift bed with a relieved breath, I'm pleasantly surprised by how cushy and comfortable it is for being literally on top of rock. Picking up one of the soft furs, I wrap it around me and draw my knees up to my chest, huddling into myself even though I'm not cold. Not on the outside anyway. I do feel exhausted. Spent not just physically, but mentally. Emotionally. Completely empty of any kind of will or energy after everything that happened after I opened my eyes just hours ago.

  Has it really only been that long? I didn't know so much could change so quickly. When I woke up, I thought I might be going back to my old life on the ship. I didn't know what awaited me. All my friends, my family, everyone I know is just...gone.

  Everything I know is gone.

  For good.

  I close my eyes and rest my head on my knees, feeling that reality crashing down on me. It's too much to process. But I have to somehow. I use the fur to wipe at the tears that escape my eyes, frustrated with myself for not being stronger. Pulling the fur over my head, I feel frustration and despair rising in a dark cloud of emotion.

  What the hell am I doing?

  What have I gotten myself into here?

  9

  Somehow, I fall asleep on my unfamiliar, makeshift bed, But it isn't a restful sleep. I toss and turn, my worry and anxiety keeping me from sinking deep. When I finally do wake up, I somehow manage to feel even more terrible than before. Wonderful.

  I sit up, my throat parched. I shove my hair back from my face, trying not to think about how I must look. My skin feels chapped from all the sun exposure and when I look down at my arms, the reddened skin there is peeling slightly. At least there aren't any mirrors I would feel compelled to look at.

  I brace my elbows on my bent knees and drop my heavy head into my hands, not feeling up to being fully upright just yet. On top of everything else, I feel light-headed and achy, like my body is just breaking down. I sigh. I guess it is. Now that I'm out of the life-support pod and it isn't keeping me stable, I know I'm back on the clock that
pushed me to get into one in the first place. The clock that, by all rights, I shouldn't be hearing ticking this early in my life. But, apparently, nobody thought to tell my body.

  I've already gone through the whole grieving process and am firmly in acceptance. I'm dying. There's nothing I can do about it now. I sincerely doubt I missed a life-support pod in the back of one of these caves when I was on that self-guided tour. And maybe it's for the best. Why keep delaying the inevitable? Even being in one of those pods wasn't really helping. It was like hitting pause on my life with no real solution in sight, a way to draw out the end without giving me any real quality of life. Just suspending me so I couldn't experience the present or move forward. I don't even know if I would do it again, given the choice. What a great mindset to start the day off with.

  I take a deep breath before I raise my pounding head. Nope, that doesn't feel good at all. Shocker. But I'll only feel worse if I don't get some water in me. Which involves getting up. Why does everything always involve getting up and expending physical effort?

  I really need to stop whining. I give myself a mental slap. Okay. I can do this. No problem. I take a few more deep breaths, until my headache subsides a little. Going from I feel like my head is going to explode to I just want to bash my head against the wall to make it stop. Good enough. Or as good as it's going to get anyway.