Three strides took me to the entrance of the fortress, two more covered half the distance of the temple beyond. Stretching out my wings, I used the momentum to launch myself into the air and soared through the opening in the dome of the temple.
The night winds carried me high above the jagged peaks of the mountain.
Darkness blanketed the land. I traveled fast, great wings covering the vast distance effortlessly, fueled by rage at the Oracle. By anger at my fate. I navigated by the Seven Stars, an innate skill I discovered long ago. One I possessed in my dragon form.
I’d been to the capital before and when I drew near it, I recognized the palace. Alighting on the roof, I closed my eyes and forced myself to a calmer place, smothering the fire within. I couldn’t always control when my dragon emerged, but over the years I’d learned a few tricks to quell it.
Gradually, my body returned to its human state. When I opened my eyes, I found myself naked as always. It didn’t matter. Darkness still reigned.
My dragon had sensed the queen’s presence. Her scent, that intoxicating aroma of pussy lurking beneath the delicate scent of her skin and her hair, led me to her bedchamber. I climbed from the roof down onto her balcony. The doors stood open to capture the breeze.
Melisandre slept. I stopped at the doorway, drank in the sight.
Though the Oracle had shown her to me many times, this was the first I’d seen of my queen in the flesh. She lay atop the crumpled covers, as though she’d flung them off in the night. Her pale skin glowed in the starlight. A tumbled mass of wavy golden hair fell over her shoulders. A few red-gold strands curled around her breasts, as though caressing them. I longed to replace them with my hands. My lips.
Her body was just as beautiful as it had been in every fantasy. More so now that I knew it was real. She lay on one side, her head pillowed on her arm. Her body was fit, the curves sleek. Full breasts, tipped with nipples soft and round and pink. But I’d seen them darken and pucker with arousal.
Her body narrowed at the waist then curved out again. I caught the rounded silhouette of her ass, then my attention was drawn by the mass of tight golden curls between her thighs. There was enough of the dragon left in me to catch the unmistakable scent of arousal from across the room, and my cock jerked to attention.
I started toward the bed. Go to her, the Oracle had said. Win her trust. I had no idea how to accomplish that. No clue what to say.
She stirred and rolled over onto her back, as though sensing my presence. Her eyes opened, and she glanced toward the doorway.
At first she smiled, as though she expected me. Then I saw recognition dawning. She scrambled back against the headboard and opened her mouth to let out a scream.
I acted on instinct. Launched across the room, threw myself onto the bed, and smothered the scream with my mouth crushed against hers.
Chapter Eight
Melisandre
I was in the dream again. Twice in one night. That had never happened before.
I’d already dreamed it once, so vividly I awoke drenched in slick fluid between my legs. My pussy ached to be filled and my clit throbbed, desperate to feel his lips sucking it like he’d been doing before I awoke. The hunger was so great, I knew I’d never sleep until it was satisfied. So I filled it as best I could. Tossed aside the covers, spread my legs, and pleasured myself, staring out at the stars all the while. Fantasizing about the dragon lord and his magnificent naked body. Afterward, with my frantic need eased a bit, I managed to fall asleep again.
I must have heard some faint sound as I slumbered. Or I sensed a whisper of movement, perhaps the curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open door to my balcony. Whatever it was, sound or motion, it triggered the dream again, more real than ever.
I opened my eyes, and there he was. Gorgeous as ever. Stark naked. Standing motionless in the doorway, silhouetted by starlight. He had the body of a god. Strong and sleek, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and hips. His thick cock jutted straight out, proud and hard. He took two steps toward me, the muscles of his ass flexing, his cock swaying with the movement of his hips.
I smiled. He’d never come to me here before. In the past, we were always somewhere else, most of the time somewhere shrouded in mist, like the haze of incense around the Oracle’s braziers. The few times the dream showed me a location for our tryst, it was always in a dark and somber place. A stone fortress, a rough hut on the edge of a battlefield. Never in a soft comfortable bed.
I sighed and lifted my arms to welcome him with an embrace. Then something made me pause. Awareness flooded in all at once, and I used my arms to squirm back against the headboard instead. This was no dream. A man was in my bedchamber. A naked stranger. I opened my mouth to scream for the guards, but he threw himself on top of me and muffled my cry with his lips.
I fought. Fought with all the strength I possessed, writhing beneath him, raking my nails down his back. Twisting and turning, trying to get one leg in the position to knee him in the balls.
He responded by scissoring his legs closed, trapping mine, and grabbed both my wrists in one hand, all the while never breaking the kiss. For that’s what it was – a wildly passionate kiss unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. My resistance seemed to fuel the stranger’s ardor, because instead of easing up, he deepened the kiss. Shocked me when his tongue invaded my mouth.
I thought about biting down on it, but my body had other ideas. Instead I found myself shuddering at the sensations pouring through me. Terror gave way to temptation as he teased me..
I’d had suitors – some dashing, some excruciatingly dull. My position as queen intimidated all of them. Even if they led me out to the terrace for a private dance during a state dinner, not one dared to do more than give me a chaste peck on the lips. Mouth closed, one eye on Pieter, who usually stood guard near enough to jump to my rescue if I showed the slightest hint of distress or distaste.
So, I was totally unprepared for being kissed by a man intent on seducing me. His hot body covered mine, skin on skin, while his tongue coaxed mine into an age-old dance.
At first, I was unwilling. Then, uneducated. But he kept on, darting the tip around, touching the roof of my mouth then drawing back. I tried to evade it, pulling my tongue away. Until I heard a low rumble in his chest, like a laugh he was struggling to suppress.
That did it. I forgot my fear, forgot he was a stranger who’d broken into my room and now held me powerless. No one laughed at me. No one dared to hint I was awkward at anything. I might not be schooled in the steps to this dance of seduction, but by the Goddess, I knew how to duel.
I parried the thrust of his tongue, blocking it with my own. He responded by swirling his around mine, sending another wild shudder coursing through me.