Iyanna tried to subside as he pulled the lap belt around both of them and fastened it with a soft click.
Have to be still, she told herself firmly as the flight attendant nodded agreeably and left to go check on other passengers. Have to be still—just pretend like this is normal and it doesn’t bother you to be so close to him.
But the fact was, it did bother her. The more she inhaled his hot, spicy scent, the more her pussy seemed to ache and throb. As the shuttle began to lift off into the night sky, starting its journey to Lix’dor Prime, and an overhead voice announced safety procedures she couldn’t concentrate on, Iyanna couldn’t keep herself from twitching and shifting uncomfortably.
“Why in the Seven Frozen Hells can’t you be still?” Dra’vik growled in her ear. “We’ve got three hours of this—you can’t be writhing all around like a fucking fil’osx eel!”
“I can’t hold still because…because I’m not comfortable,” Iyanna said desperately.
“Not comfortable, hmm?” he rumbled. “And what is it exactly that’s making you so fucking uncomfortable, little girl?”
Iyanna bit her lip. She didn’t feel like she could tell him the real problem—that her pleasure poisoning was flaring up again. After all, Yanni and Yorg, the pastel couple, were just across the aisle from him—what if they heard what she was saying?
“I…I’m getting poked in the back by your buttons,” she said at last. “They’re really hard and they’re digging into my spine—you need to let me sit up and move to the end of the seat!”
“Did you not hear the safety lecture they gave before we took off?” Dra’vik demanded. “We have to stay in our seats, belted in—that’s not fucking possible if you’re sitting at the edge of the seat. Here—see if this helps.”
He let her sit forward for a moment and Iyanna heard the creak of leather as he pulled open the black vest he was wearing. Then he pulled her back against his bare chest and put his arms firmly around her waist.
“Better?” he growled in her ear.
Actually, it was worse. So much worse, Iyanna thought miserably. Her pussy was now aching with need, as sensitive and painful and hot as it had been back before she’d used the leaves he had sent her. No, actually, it was worse, she decided.
She tried to distract herself by looking at the scales on his arms. They were beautiful, the way they shimmered and changed from gold to scarlet and back again as his muscles flexed. They weren’t hard or cold or slimy liked the scales of a fish or a snake were either. Instead, they felt warm and smooth and surprisingly soft to her touch, though she was certain they probably formed a formidable barrier of protection for the big Drake.
But she couldn’t contemplate his scales forever. Though she tried not to, Iyanna found herself squirming again, wiggling her ass in the seat as she squeezed her thighs together and trying desperately to get some relief from the aching pleasure/pain between her legs.
“Goddess damnit to all Seven of the Frozen Hells, little girl—what’s wrong with you now?” Dra’vik growled in her ear, his deep voice tinged with impatience. “I opened my vest for you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but…but I’m still not comfortable,” Iyanna muttered desperately.
“You think I’m comfortable having your lush ass pressed against my shaft?” he growled. “Because I’m fucking not, little girl. And the prospect of having to sit here smelling your sweet scent for three hours while you rub and wiggle against me is not fucking fun!”
As he spoke, Iyanna became aware that there was something hard and long rubbing against her right outer thigh. With a little gasp, she looked down and saw that his monster of a cock, which was stuffed down the right side of his tight trousers, was making a large and very noticeable ridge that reached almost to his knee. Sweet Lord, how big was that thing, anyway?
“Is…is that because of me?” she exclaimed, still unable to tear her eyes away from it.
“Of course it is,” he growled. “You think I get hard because I like to see the fuckin’ stars? I’m hard because of your sweet scent and your soft, curvy body pressed up against me—and because of the way you’re wiggling around between my legs!”
“Look, I didn’t mean to…to give you a problem,” Iyanna protested in a low voice. “But, well…I’m having a problem too.”
“What kind of problem?” Dra’vik wanted to know.
“I…I can’t tell you.” Iyanna shot a glance across the aisle, where Yanni and Yorg were still cuddling. They didn’t look uncomfortable in the least—in fact, they had reclined the chair they were sharing and were snuggled in each other’s arms.
Iyanna couldn’t picture herself being that comfortable with the big Drake—despite his willingness to help her the night before, he clearly didn’t want to be here and had taken on this mission against his will.