Evanne Lorraine
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Galaxy’s End

 

Fahli didn’t need her keen dragon ears to hear the footfalls behind her on the syn-stone of the usually deserted causeway. The seldom used back passage to the Slave Market, the club she both owned and ran since her brother’s death at the hands of the merciless bloodsuckers, was as deserted as usual this time of day. It was unlikely anyone would hear her even if she screamed.

Despite the isolation of the outpost, this was her sanctuary and even a plump earth dragon in human form was far from helpless. Although Fahli’s gifts were primarily sensual, she had much greater speed and strength than the average humanoid. If those talents failed to protect her, then she could always hit her pursuer with an incapacitating case of lust. Then she would control him–all of him. The mental image teased the corners of her lips into a tight smile.

Simple curiosity made her dart a look over her shoulder. He wasn’t a bit scary. Nothing like the relentless moneylenders that had drained Gillard of his life’s blood. This male was much too thin, too young, and too grubby to frighten anyone. Then his eyes flashed ruby–fire dragon sign. She sniffed to confirm her impression. He was on the cusp of his first transition and unlikely to survive the ordeal. A knot of empathy rose in her throat and she swallowed hard before it stole her breath.

Her haven was only a dozen quick strides away. She should run to the club and secure the door behind her. But she couldn’t do it. Dragons were so vulnerable during their initial transition that refusing to help would mean his death. Her steps slowed and she darted another look behind her.

Dear Goddess, he hurt so much and he was so angry. Memories of her little brother and how easily he’d been exploited in a moment of weakness rose to haunt her. With a prayer for the courage to do what she could to ease him, she turned and walked toward the young dragon.

Fiery eyes met hers with desperate intensity and she felt a rush of sheer erotic hunger. The unexpected desire would have caused her irises to flash amber. The sign of an earth dragon. Luckily for her, he’d shut his eyes against the wracking pain and hadn’t noticed her moment of weakness. She hesitated aware of the danger of helping the young dragon. If he died it would break her heart to fail again. And if he lived, she would have to abandon him much too soon.

“Help me.” His deep voice made the words a harsh demand rather than a plea.

And for reasons beyond her understanding, there was no more indecision, she absolutely had to obey. Tugging his arm over her shoulder, she surrendered to his needs.

Dead weight sagged against her and she lurched under the sudden burden, bumping him against the club’s outer wall. Leaning into him, she frantically felt for his pulse. His heartbeat fluttered under her touch–too faint and much too rapid.

Just short of her panicking over how to move him to safety, Strawn, her club master, emerged from the club. He slung the young dragon over his broad shoulder with a grunt. “Bugger weighs a ton. What in the seven hells is he and what’s wrong with him?”

“A fire dragon in his first transition,” she said almost soundlessly. Although she trusted Strawn with her life, the artificial outpost was a small place and even walls could have audio sensors. And there were few places in the known universe where it was safe to be a dragon. This was not one of them.

The burly bronsor squinted at her as he activated the entrance sensor. “You sure can pick ‘em, boss.”

He was right. Her track record with males was tragic. But this was hardly her fault. A natural sexual submissive, who happened to be a lady dragon, had limited Dom options. Severely limited.

“I couldn’t just leave him to the bloodsuckers,” she muttered.

He swung around to look at her with sharp concern. “Are they here?”

She followed him into the lift. “No, I’m meeting them on Ranin Seven next month. I don’t want those fiends anywhere near the Slave Market.”

Her club master grunted his disapproval, and then asked, “Where do you want the fire dragon?”

“My bed.” In more ways than one. The unbidden wish was both true and foolish beyond words. Fahli pushed her instinctive response to the male aside. She was his only chance of survival.

Strawn marched into her inner sanctum and settled her unconscious guest on the comfortable dragon-sized pallet where she always slept alone.

She could almost hear her dead brother teasing her–cheering her on–urging her to take the risk–to love the beautiful young fire dragon. And he was beautiful, even in his scruffy human form.

After the bronsor left, she heated water, wet a fresh washcloth, and twisted it almost dry before using the damp linen to gently wipe the dirt from his classic features. His jaw was firm and square, his nose large and straight, the lips a sensuous curve, and his lashes were thick, dark, and so long that they made crescents on his sculpted cheekbones.

Was he vain? Silly question, she chided herself. If he wasn’t he soon would be. All dragons were. The males more so than the females, but then they had more reason. A full grown male was a magnificent beast with scales brighter than the finest jewels–lesser beings risked their sanity by just looking at dragon in his natural glory. Meeting his gaze, or listening to his honeyed speech, were both equally hazardous for humanoids who wanted to retain their wits. Yet even mighty dragons had frightening weaknesses.

The male on her bed arched and thrashed so violently that she feared his heart would burst from the strain. After hours of torture his eyes opened. His irises were brilliant ruby with elliptical slivers for pupils that widened as he stared at her.

And then his body shimmered and began to transform.

She stuffed a fist into her mouth to keep from crying out in empathy for the depth of his agony.

When his transition was complete and his massive sides heaved steadily, he tilted his head and studied her again before he said, “Hungry.”

She shook off the light trance of his gaze and ordered two roast boars and vat of olive oil for her guest. Then she added a modest pork roast, plus two sweet potato pies, for herself. Since she’d missed lunch, and was celebrating his survival, she easily rationalized the calorie splurge.

No dragon could tolerate syn-food, which made eating expensive and frequently inconvenient, although replicators certainly weren’t free or always handy. They were a luxury beyond the means of those living off the grid–a category her guest almost certainly fit into, along with many of the outpost’s inhabitants.

Keeping her gaze lowered, she asked, “May I know your name, Sir?”

He was silent for so long that she thought he’d refused to answer. This would have been understandable, since a true name carried great power.

Finally he said, “You may call me Suluth, I’ve always liked that name.”

Everyone at the club obeyed her. Even the customers submitted to her command. It had been a very long time since she’d heard the sound of true male dominance.

Surprised by the strength in his voice she met his eyes for a second before respectfully averting her head. “Is that you first or last name, Sir?”

“Both or neither, doesn’t matter.”

“May I call you Suluth the Splendid then? It suits you, Sir.”

He preened the base of his neck. “You may.” Then he lowered his huge face to examine her more closely. “What’s your name? And what are you, besides mine?”

“Fahli Perloto is my name. I’m an earth dragon and the owner of this establishment, among other things, Sir.” Her cheeks heated as she finished her thought silently. And much too old and much too practical to fall for an arrogant, barely transitioned, male, even if he was the most spectacularly gorgeous creature she’d ever seen.

A knock on the door saved her from saying anything that would aggravate him. After all he needed to eat, rest, and regain his strength far more than she needed to test his dominance. She accepted the carts and thanked Strawn for bringing the food.

As she wheeled in the first of his snack, she peeked at him from under her lashes. He was gorgeous. She still had almost two weeks before she had to leave for Ranin Seven. Perhaps she could be his for just a little while.

“After the food, I want you to shift.”

Every time he spoke, his deep voice vibrated through her erogenous zones like a wild techno-beat and she had to remind herself that his voice was as dangerous as the rest of him. Still she foolishly hoped that he found her dragon desirable. “As you wish, Sir.”

She tugged the cart close enough for him to reach the succulent roasted boar. “Would you like me to feed you, Sir?”

His eyes lowered to slits and he made a purring noise. “Absolutely, Fahli, my very own little slave.”

Dear Goddess, his words made her burn. Just her name from his lips was a pure aphrodisiac. She’d known how potent dragon wiles were in theory, but had foolishly thought she was past the age where she’d succumb. Now it was too late for caution.

Her nipples contracted to stiff points of need, her pussy wept, and her knees trembled as she carved off a hindquarter and climbed astride his extended foreleg. His scales were smooth and pleasantly heated, which made her melt even more.

Although her knees had turned to jelly and she could barely grip his thick foreleg, he lifted her smoothly. Keeping her effortlessly balanced, he didn’t even tremble under her considerable weight. While he held her as easily as if they were in a zero-G chamber, he demolished the hindquarter with precise, efficient bites and turned his head away to burp quietly with a small puff of white smoke. While he ate, she inhaled the intoxicating dark chocolate laced with fiery spice scent that wafted from his powerful body.

Then he lowered her to the floor and waited patiently for her to carve off another hunk of roast. By the time he polished off the second boar and swallowed the olive oil, she’d forgotten all about being hungry.

“You shift or I do.”

She heard him talking, but the sound coming from his mouth pulsed between her legs and she just stared, unable to look away from his burning ruby eyes.

As smoothly as if he’d been doing it for years, he phased to human form.

Dear Goddess there was so much more of him. He’d added at least fifty pounds–all of it rippling muscle. Through the magic of shifting, the dirt had vanished and so had his clothes. His skin was smooth and bronzed over those impressive muscles. His scent was the same–delicious chocolate temptation. His irises were ruby red, burning with erotic need and pure dragon lust.

One more thing had changed. His shaft had grown long, thick, and hard.

She hadn’t given him so much as a suggestion of lust and still passionate need rolled off him like his irresistible scent and his erection was beyond impressive. Perhaps the legends about how sexed up a newly transitioned male was really had been true. Her heart beat faster at the exciting possibilities. “How may I serve you, Sir?”

Cupping the back of her neck with one large hand, he held her captive. Slowly he pulled her closer until his heavy erection pressed against her belly. Instead of plowing into her empty channel, he lowered his head, bringing his sensual mouth nearer. Then he feathered a barely there kiss of exquisite tenderness across her tingling lips.

She angled her neck and parted under his gentle onslaught, desperate for more–for a taste of him. The first thrust of his tongue into her mouth speared straight to her core. Feminine muscles clenched and released in a helpless rhythm of need. Welcoming cream heated and flowed, coating her pussy and seeping down her inner thighs–from just one kiss.

Then he pulled away and applied careful downward pressure on her nape. “On your knees, Fahli mine.”

Eager to please him and to sample more of his incredible flavor, she knelt before him with no extra urging.

He continued to talk, his rich voice enthralling her even more, while he stroked the sensitive skin over her collarbone. “My control will be better after a climax and I need excellent control, because I’m going to take my time with you, little slave.”

As the club’s mistress, her own control was legendary. In truth, it wasn’t a challenge. Submissives, no matter how gorgeous or willing, never excited her. The irony had been her private joke. The Domme, known for her ability to arouse the most jaded sub to a fever pitch of erotic need, had never felt the wild sweet rush of desire.

Although she was certain that she was a sexual submissive, her preference had never been confirmed, since there were few males capable of mastering a lady dragon. She inhaled another deep breath of chocolate. “May I taste you, Sir?”

His fingers speared into her hair. “Tease me with small licks on the crown only.”

Anxious to please him, she used just the pointed tip of her tongue to eagerly trace the lush ridge of his cockhead, darting below the edge to gather more of his exquisite flavor, and then returning to lick the rim. A drop of clear liquid welled from the tiny slit in his voluptuous crown. She lapped up the chocolate and felt a fresh infusion of heat in every cell of her plump body. His bodily fluids were an addictive aphrodisiac. Now she craved Suluth like her own personal drug. A low moan of feminine need vibrated around the thick head stretching her lips.

He made an answering groan, thrusting against the soft palate at the back of her mouth. On instinct she swallowed, increasing the draw against his shaft. His hips bucked and something hot and delicious slid down her throat.

“Keep swallowing, Fahli mine.”

She hummed her agreement around his shaft and greedily gulped the sweet-hot seed coating the inside of her mouth. Despite all that she swallowed, he remained hard.

“Enough,” he commanded and slowly pulled his cock out of her mouth.

He was wrong, she hadn’t had nearly enough. She burned for more of him and reached for what she needed.

“Hands behind your head, fingers laced, and don’t move.”

Although she still yearned for his touch, she obeyed–the force of his command, and her own need to please him, gave her no choice.

“Spread your knees.”

She nearly tipped over in her haste to comply. Suluth steadied her with a warm grip on her upper arm. His large hand encircled her completely. Boldly she met his eyes, but his gaze dropped to the tight nubs of her breasts.

His grip loosened on her arm. But she stayed very still while he slowly slid his heated fingers over her breasts. Finally he reached her aching nipples then rolled, tweaked, and tugged. “These are mine.”

He was right, but she couldn’t speak, because all the moisture in her mouth had traveled down to pool between her legs. Apparently he didn’t require an answer. He lowered his head and sucked a taut peak into his mouth causing her to whimper with desire. Each pull of his wicked lips fluttered wildly between her legs. He suckled both tips until they were dark, wet, and as hard as syn-pebbles.

Then his gaze lowered to the slit of her bare cunt.

His palms molded her waist, hips, and continued down the outside of her trembling thighs without changing his intense focus. Then the same roughened hand skimmed her inner thigh and stopped just before he reached her channel. “This very pretty, very wet pussy also belongs to me.”

Oh, Please, Sir.

“I want to taste it.” His voice deepened to that sinful purr.

Fahli heard an embarrassingly needy sound that might have been her moaning approval as he lifted her atop a tall chest of treasures. From this new position, her breasts were even with his mouth.

Scanning the room, he rolled one furled nipple to taut need, and then abruptly abandoned her to retrieve an antique leather trunk, one of her favorite pieces. He gestured for her to stand.

When she obliged him, he placed it on top of the tall chest and waved for her to sit.

“I’ll stain it.” She trembled with erotic fear for objecting to his order, even as the words spilled from her lips.

“No, you won’t, because you’re going to sit on the edge and tilt your hips toward me. Now sit.”

Her cheeks warmed as she imagined the wanton way she would be exposed, but self-consciousness didn’t keep her from following his command. The fiery glints in his ruby irises told her that he liked what he saw.

Even so he took his time. He shouldered between her legs, widening her thighs. When she felt herself teeter, he grasped her well-padded hip in one massive hand and steadied her easily. Secure in his embrace, her tension ebbed. Then he used the knuckles of his free hand to lightly skim the damp seam of her cunt.

Fresh, hot, cream rushed from her core to welcome his invasion. He leaned closer and nudged past her outer lips with his nose. His first, tender, lick of her inner folds made her hips jerk.

“Easy, little slave.”

But there was no ease in her, just an ever increasing tension that wound tighter and tighter as his tongue swept through her feminine secrets with the absolute confidence of a true master.

He nibbled, licked, and sucked until she vibrated on the edge of orgasm.

Just when she was certain the next tiny lap would push her into paradise, he would change position or lighten his caress or stop altogether.
“I’ll tell you when to come.”

“Soon, Sir?” she whimpered.

He chuckled and blew across the swollen nub of nerves at the top of her sex. “Come now, Fahli mine.”

She arched and gushed before he finished speaking. When she regained her senses he was watching her intently.

“I love watching you melt with pleasure.”

Fahli melted a little more from the look of pride on his handsome face, his deep voice, and his sure touch of utter possession. “How may I serve you, Sir?”

He pulled her against his rock hard torso. “Come here.”

Then her sensitized folds were pressed against the massive ridge of his erection and a mini-climax fluttered through her core.

Holding her apart from the hard length of his shaft, he said, “Notch my cock in the entrance to your cunt.”

She lodged the thick crown against the softened opening and he drove into her willing sheath an inch at a time–giving her time to adjust to his size. At last he was buried to the hilt and she was gloriously full and stretched past capacity. For a long time they stood still so intimately connected that it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began.

With a few steps he moved them to the pallet and eased them down until the bed supported her and she cradled his powerful body with hers. He rocked into her with tiny incremental thrusts that slowly, so very slowly, grew faster and harder. Then she met his fiery gaze and she exploded in soul shattering ecstasy. This time when she became aware of her surroundings, his hips ground into her heat and he gave a roar of satisfaction as she felt the first hot blasts of his seed pulsing against the tip of her womb.

“You came without my permission.”

She dropped her lashes, but dared to ask, “Will you punish me, Sir?”

“If I feel like it when I’m done fucking you.” He moved deep and hard inside her and she felt the tension of another climax gathering in her core.

“When will you be done, Sir?” She managed to pant.

“Not any time soon,” he purred and thrust again.

* * * *

The tension in Suluth’s shoulders told Fahli that he’d heard the fragile heels of her thigh high boots clicking on the syn-rock floor, but he didn’t glance  up at her approach. He just stared moodily at the holofeed from the club. The display showed the crowd waiting for the start of her bondage scene.

“I need a kiss good-bye.” She kept her tone light, but her voice caught at his nearness.

He captured her, but not for the kiss she wanted. Instead he spun her so her back was against his front. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he surrounded her with his strength, and nuzzled her neck, grazing the sensitive skin in the way he knew drove her crazy. “Let Strawn handle the club and come back to bed, Fahli mine.”

“Mmm, that feels so good, Sir.”

He pulled her tighter against him. “Stay.”

A frisson of excitement heated her blood at his demand. This was her standard, helpless, response to his arousal. To him. But this time she had to leave in order to keep him safe.

Her voice changed to a breathy whisper. “Waiting makes release so much more powerful. So my master taught me. I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

She slipped out of his embrace and prayed that she hadn’t lied.

 

The End

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