Dragon's Treasure, page 8
“If I had my way, I would,” I point out to her, which doesn’t seem to please her very much. “I promise, Leana. I mean you no harm. Get clean. Treat this space like it’s yours. Tell me what will make you comfortable,” I say, knowing very well she could tell me to close my eyes.
And if she does, I’ll do it. Only a fool doesn’t obey their queen.
She sighs, a deep exhale that makes her shoulders droop. Then she walks shirtless to a large rock, spreading her tunic out on it as best she can.
“I don’t…I’ve never…” She says, half-turning to me, and I know what she means.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say, trying to gentle my voice as much as possible. “I won’t touch you, either, Leana.” Not by choice, maybe, but perhaps for once it’s better that the decision is taken from my hands.
She actually gives me a small smile, one that lodges deep inside me. “I’m not worried about that.”
She’s not? Because she knows these chains hold me, or she trusts me?
I could reach her, although I’d never approach my mate with dragon claws. The spring is within my limited range of mobility. She has to know that.
She trusts me.
“Then what worries you, treasure?” I ask, keeping my voice as calm as I possibly can, even when my heart beats faster than I can ever remember it beating.
She shrugs, walking back towards the spring. “I’ve just never done this before.”
I swallow. “Never?” I’d suspected, but to hear it confirmed…
“I’ve bathed in a river with other servants. But never on purpose, if you understand. And I know you’re telling me to just get clean but…you’re not watching to make sure I’m clean.”
“No, treasure, I’m not.” To make sure she’s clean?
If I had my way, if I was free and I had a castle with a soft bed to lay her in, I’d make us both very, very dirty.
And then bathe her myself, gently, sensuously. Just so we could get filthy again.
The fantasy is a nice one, but I’m more focused on the vision before me. She begins to lower her trousers, and I find myself holding my breath.
It all comes rushing out in one long groan, powerful enough to shake rocks, as she tosses the trousers aside to address after, her beautiful body on full display. “Good gods, treasure. Nothing has ever been more beautiful.”
She looks down at herself. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” I say, eying her beautiful cunt that she’s likely inadvertently giving me an excellent view of. With curls of midnight black, I long to part her lips enough to see the wet, pink flesh hidden underneath.
I’d be the first to touch it. That thought sends a bolt of lust through me.
Our dragon forms are never meant to be our lusty forms, and feelings like lust are slightly muted in this form, like they’re behind a wall, just out of sight.
If this is muted, she is going to bring me to my knees the minute I’m free.
She dismisses my lust so easily, turning away, back to the bucket. “I’m nothing special.”
“You are beauty personified,” I tell her, now getting a view of her ass that could stop my heart. “You are the finest treasure in my hoard, a mate beyond what any could ever hope for.”
She has the gall to laugh at that. It sounds nervous, and it just makes me ache. “Why do you keep saying things like this?”
“Do you think they’re untrue?” I demand, and I can’t fight it any longer. I move as far as my chains will allow me, lying on my belly and putting myself right in her space. “Treasure, do you think I’m a liar?”
“I think you tell me very flattering things,” she hedges.
“I tell you nothing but the truth…if the truth flatters you, I can’t help that.” I eye her hungrily, hoping she can see it in my eyes. That she can know it’s true.
This moment feels monumental. Like right here, eyeing her naked form, I can convince my mate of her worth. Like I can finally make Leana understand.
If I don’t handle this correctly, I fear I could chase her away.
“If I were free, and I had a body built to touch yours, I would make you feel things beyond your wildest imagination,” I proclaim.
Now I’m bragging, but it remains true. I’m not unfamiliar with how to pleasure a partner, and my Leana will find that I’m a particularly diligent student for anything I don’t already know.
She blushes. “That wouldn’t be hard,” she tells me, focusing on washing her leg. “I find I have a weak imagination when it comes to such things. I’ve never…” She can’t make herself say it. “All I know is what I’ve heard from others, in passing. And that never sounded very good.”
Servant girls in a castle where my brother had been denied his mate for years? I shudder to think what she might have heard. “It would be so good between us, treasure,” I promise her, my voice barely coming out as a rasp. “I swear it would be.”
She shivers, and something tells me it’s not just her nakedness, or the cool water on her skin. She might not know much about what I’m promising her, but I can tempt her. She’s interested.
Something feral and entirely beastly warms my insides. It’s time to convince my mate that I’m worth it.
15. Leana
He’s looking at me like he wants to eat me, and yet I’ve never been more sure that he won’t hurt me.
I’ve long ago abandoned any ideas of this sort of thing. I have no time to meet people, and I’ve heard stories that make my insides curdle. I’ve taken the protection offered by being able to light anyone who hurts me on fire and avoided everything having to do with this.
With…sex. Intimacy.
Only now, Osir is lying next to me, offering it in such a sensual, enticing package that it sends shivers through me. My nipples pebble, and I highly doubt it’s the chilly air causing that.
He’s a dragon. Even if he was in his human form, that fact alone should scare me. Dragons hurt humans. But even as I try to remind myself of that, I can’t make it stick in my mind.
Sometime in the last few days, he’s gone from his majesty, King Osir, the fallen mad king, to just Osir.
To my dragon, and I immediately try to quash that thought.
But even so. He’s not in his human form. I’ve never seen him in his human form. How can I be feeling like this over a dragon?
Is it really just his voice? The sincerity of it, the promises he makes me?
It is, and I find myself wanting to believe him more and more with every moment that passes.
I wash my other leg, forcing myself to work up the courage to say, “Tell me.”
His rumble makes the whole cavern shake when I finally say it. “With pleasure,” he rasps, eyeing me hungrily. “I’ve thought about it every day since the day you first walked in here.”
“You have not,” I protest.
“I absolutely have,” he argues. “Every day. I knew the moment you walked in here that you were mine, Leana.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“I offered you my food every time I saw you, treasure,” he rumbles. “And I offered you my hoard.”
“How was I supposed to know that meant…this?” I demand.
“I admit I don’t know much about humans,” he says slowly. “I might have missed something. But you’re here now, bare and so beautiful, and I cannot stop thinking of how I’m going to treat you when I’m free.”
My breath catches. “And how will you treat me?” I dare to ask.
Everytime he says it, it sounds less like a fantasy and more like a promise, and I want to hear his promises.
“Like the treasure you are,” he says lowly. “Come sit with me if you’re done, Leana.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m naked.”
“And your clothes are wet, but I’ll stop you from catching a chill,” he promises. “I swear on my life, Leana. I would never hurt you.”
“I know.” I do, too. There’s no question in my mind. Osir would never deliberately hurt me.
“Then come sit with me. Let me bask in your presence. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
I almost stupidly tell him I don’t want him to do that, before I remember his hands end with razor-sharp claws the size of my arm.
So I go and sit next to him, and he curls up around me, letting me lean against his snout while his shoulder comes to support my back.
And then he takes a great, obvious inhale. “You like what I’m saying, don’t you, treasure? You’re intrigued.” He sounds pleased when he says it.
“How can you tell?”
“I can smell it,” he announces. “The sweetest scent I’ve ever smelt, and if I had my human body, I’d have my face buried between your thighs already, drowning in that scent.”
It’s so crass. It’s so intriguing.
“I…really? You’d want that?”
“I will beg you for it, treasure. At least once a day, more if I have my way. You shall be queen and your throne will be my face.”
I flush and try to hide my face, but the only place to hide is in his scales.
His tail gently taps me on the hip. “I apologize if I’ve offended you.”
I slowly look up again to find him watching me, attention rapt. I still can’t read a dragon’s expression, but I think I can tell Osir’s tones of voice now, and I think I worried him.
“It’s just so crass,” I try to explain. “And I’m not used to…” Being crass. Discussing this. Having someone talk about pleasuring me. All are true.
“Crass? Maybe. It’s honest. And your pleasure will be so beautiful. I know it. I long for it.”
“I don’t…I don’t know anything about this.” I understand the fundamentals, I suppose. I’ve heard more stories than I ever wanted to. I’ve even stumbled into things I didn’t want to see. But when it comes to my own body, I’m far less experienced.
“Let me teach you,” he says immediately. “As a dragon until I can do it properly as a man.”
I raise an eyebrow at that. “And what does the dragon expect from me?”
“No expectations. But I’d like to watch. That’s all.”
He wants to watch me. But even with a dragon’s predatory eyes, I somehow only ever feel love shining out at me.
Am I a fool for this?
I push the thought aside. Maybe I am. If I am, then I’ve done a lot of foolish things in the past few days at his urging, and this wouldn’t be any more awful, really.
But it does have the possibility of being a lot more pleasurable.
“Tell me.”
“I love your breasts,” he says immediately. “I’ve fantasized about them, of course. But today, when you removed that tunic…I want to gaze on them forever.”
I look down. “They’re not much to look at.” I know current court fashion has women in dresses that make their chests look ridiculously large, to a truly fantastic degree. And here I am, with just these little breasts.
“They are enough to bring a man to his knees,” he contradicts me. “Will you touch them for me? Show me if they are sensitive?”
I hesitantly run a hand over them, scraping my palm over my pebbled nipple. It doesn’t particularly feel like anything, and I frown. Already disappointing him.
“You’ve never done this before.” His tone is neutral, non-judgemental, but I flush again regardless.
“When would I have? In the room I share with three other girls? Or perhaps when bathing in a freezing river?”
“Let me be your guide, then,” he offers, although it sounds more like pleading.
“Alright.” Just one more foolish thing, then.
“Keep your touch gentle,” he tells me. “Slow, light. Just a tease at first. Less is more.” His eyes bore into me. “Start at your neck.”
Following his directions, I run just the tips of my fingers along my neck, down my throat and to my collarbone. And that touch alone sends shivers through me, like sparks along everywhere I just touched.
“Beautiful,” he rasps. “Do it again…imagine it’s my lips.”
I shiver again and do as he says, keeping my touch light, a tease, like he said. I’m not sure if it feels anything like lips, but I let my eyes slip closed, picturing it. “Does that feel good, treasure?”
“Mhm.” I open my eyes, trying to see him watching me, but he tsks.
“Keep your eyes closed, treasure. All the better to imagine with.”
“A…alright.” I close them again, and, without him prompting, run my fingers further down, scraping along the edge of my breast.
“Good girl. Run it up towards your nipple, now.”
I do, keeping the touch just as gentle as he originally told me, and I bite my lip to stop any sound from coming out. That feels unexpectedly good. Like when the fire dances on my skin, like when every nerve feels alive.
“Circle it. And don’t bite your lip, treasure. Hearing you will genuinely be the highlight of my century.”
A soft gasp comes out at that, and I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. His responding rumble tells me he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
“You’re so responsive. Perfect girl, my treasure. Now, I think you’re ready—pinch your nipple, treasure. It doesn’t need to be hard—or maybe it will be. Do whatever feels good.”
I pinch, just lightly at first, and it feels like something in my core tightens, something I didn’t even know was there. “O-oh.”
“Oh, that’s a beautiful sound,” he says, and his voice almost sounds crooning now. “Can you do that again for me, treasure? Imagine it’s my fingers, if it helps.”
It does help, somehow. His hands on me, because he wants me—the thought makes that sparking feeling deep, deep inside my core come back.
Would he talk to me as sweetly if I was in bed under him? Would he look at me the same way?
I gasp again, just thinking about it, and his hum of approval tells me perhaps he’s thinking of the same thing.
“What-what would you do next?” I manage to ask him, barely recognizing my own voice.
“If I had the honor of having you in bed?” He asks. “I’d keep playing with your nipple if it made you make such lovely sounds. But my mouth would be moving down your body. Touch your stomach, just the fingertips again,” he says, and it takes me a minute to process the command, but I obey, shuddering as I feel my own fingers moving down my stomach. “I’m envious of your hand, treasure. It’s exactly where I want my mouth to be. Well, not exactly. Not yet.” His voice seems to somehow get even lower when he says, “I ache to bury my head between your thighs, Leana. To feast there. To make you come on my tongue, squeezing my head. I can smell you—you’re ripe and ready for me and I want to touch you.”
I make a sound that sounds more like I’ve been hurt than anything, although that is the opposite of true. He’s smelling me, smelling the wetness I can feel building between my thighs, and I ache to have him touch me there.
I want his hands—his mouth, perhaps his cock—between my thighs. I squeeze my thighs together, feeling how wet he’s managed to make me with just my own hand. I won’t get him, not today, but every second I’m more and more convinced of his vision of the future. How can I not be? How can I believe in a future where I don’t get him?
“What would you do next?” I ask him, trailing my hand to the top of my mound.
His growl shakes his whole body, vibrating through me. It should be terrifying.
It should not make me bite my lip again to hold back a moan. It shouldn’t make me even more wet.
“Such a perfect, pretty mate,” he croons. “Would you be sweet for me, Leana, and part your thighs? Let them fall open for me?”
I hesitate for just a second and do what he asks, opening my thighs. I keep my own eyes closed so I don’t have to look, but I feel his gaze regardless.
“Beautiful,” he rasps. “No dragon has ever been blessed with a prettier mate. None. Trail one finger through your folds, treasure.”
I follow his command, feeling the soft, wet flesh part for my finger. “Should I put it inside?” I ask, trailing down to my opening.
“Not yet. Nice and slow, nice and light—bring your finger up higher. Higher—there,” he says, clearly seeing the expression on my face when I find the spot he’s directing me towards.
I don’t need his direction to do it again, gasping as I circle the spot.
“Good girl,” he says, noting that I don’t need much direction anymore, but giving me his voice. His voice makes whatever it is inside me tighten up almost as much as what I’m doing with my hand, and I don’t want him to stop.
“T-tell me,” I gasp. “Please. Tell me what you would do.”
“Say my name,” he says. “Ask with my name and I’ll do anything you wish, Leana.”
“Osir,” I sigh, my head rolling to one side as I keep stroking myself. It’s like my strings have been cut, like my muscles can’t possibly support me, loose and languid as they are.
Well. All muscles but the ones I can feel tightening inside me.
I didn’t know anything could feel this good. I thought this was a thing to be endured, if one was unlucky or wanted children. But here I am, and my dragon king has driven me to such heights with just one of my fingers. “Osir, please, I—” I trail off with a moan, and try to stroke myself the same way again to duplicate the feeling that makes my hips buck slightly.
“Such a perfect mate,” he murmurs. “Oh, treasure, if this moment is all I ever get, I will gladly spend a thousand years locked up for it.”
I don’t like that. I don’t want to hear that, not now, not when I can’t stop thinking about this future he keeps promising me. “No, we’ll get you free,” I insist, wanting to open my eyes to argue with him, but he starts rumbling against me.
“Yes, I must, because my pretty mate wants me to show her how I’d pleasure her, right?” He says. “If ever a man had more incentive to get free…but I’m being rude. I promised I’d help you come if you said my name, and you did, because you’re so good for me. It’s my turn to keep up my end of the bargain.”
I want to touch him. I want his hands on me, his mouth. I know I can’t have it, and his scales against my naked skin are a good enough reminder why. But I still long for it. Ache for it.
