Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Morgan Chronicles

We pushed through the doors, Rhaelgyr unleashing his aura just enough
to blaze a trail through the wall of flesh. Moans reached my ears,
heat caressed my skin, and arousal flooded me. I wasn't empathic,
wasn't normally affected by the emotions of others, but this was
undeniable. I tried to keep focused, tried to ignore the displays all
around me, but it was a losing battle.

Rhaelgyr pulled me to his side, pulling us into a nook, wrapping his
arms around my shoulders. The play of silk across my skin made me
moan, and I stared adoringly at him. I wanted to know what it felt
like to kiss a sharp mouth, to wrestle with that forked tongue.

~It's a drug in the air,~ the dragon told me. I writhed against
him, petting strong muscles beneath his shirt. He held still, but his
eyes bored into my skull. ~It heightens the senses, lowers the
inhibitions, makes everything feel good.~ He wound the leash around
his other hand, creating new wounds.

Smirking, intoxicated, I licked at the blood, and relished
the flavor. He was so dark and rich, decadent and compelling. I
wanted more, and darted for his hand, disregarding the barbed wire.

~Morgan, don't!~ he snapped, slamming me against the wall, grabbing
my neck just below the collar. "Behave yourself," he growled. The
sound rumbled between us, drawing all my attention to his face.
Rhaelgyr's eyes were dangerous, his nails pricking my skin.

The pain in the back of my skull helped me focus, helped me beat back
the arousal. "I'm sorry," I whispered, drawing deep breaths.

"It's not your fault," he said, leaning into my face. I swallowed
hard, trying to control my reactions, but desperately wanting to kiss
him. "You're supposed to lose yourself here."

"Is the drug affecting you?"

Midnight blue eyes were rock hard as they captured my gaze. Rhaelgyr
pinned me against the wall, the tips of his forked tongue peeking out
between flushed lips. "Very much so. Enough to make me stop caring
how delicate you are." Nail's dug deeper into my neck, wringing a
gasp from me. Rapid fire images came at me; lots of blood, lots of
teeth, and lots of ecstasy. I knew that could be me, and I almost
gave in.

"Just take me to Steven," I said in a strangled voice.

Rhaelgyr kept me pinned to the wall, pressed against me, spiritually
looming over me. He wanted to ravage me. I wanted to ravage him, to
be ravaged by him. Some foolish part of me wanted to feel the pain he
could inflict, just to know if it was as bad as he said.

The dragon pushed away, disappointing us both. He yanked savagely on
the leash, and I stumbled. A few elves were watching us, clearly
intrigued. Rhaelgyr kept his eyes straight ahead, dragging me
heedlessly through the crowd.

~Slow down,~ I protested, clutching at the wire, narrowly avoiding the barbs.

~He's close,~ Rhaelgyr's voice had deepened, was sliding into a
language I didn't speak. His entire personality was darker, sharper.
It was becoming painful to brush against, but I didn't pull away.

The dragon obliged on the speed, but kept his unconcerned march.
People took note of us, heads turning, murmurs following in our wake.
Now that I wasn't stumbling, I tried to be proud, tried to act like
the pet of a prince.

~So are you one?~ I asked, keeping my eyes off a small orgy to our
left. The drugs wanted me to join in, wanted me to lick all that
sweaty flesh.

~One what?~ Rhaelgyr was surprised by the question, and it helped
break him from the sex. He focused on me, on the question, and the
danger ebbed. A little.

~A prince.~

He chuckled. ~Yes I am. My mother rules our clan, and my brother is
next in line.~

~So what are you doing out here?~

Rhaelgyr didn't get a chance to answer. He stopped, and I barely kept
from running into him. I glanced around his shoulder, and saw Steven.
My mood brightened, and I felt success at hand.

Then I realized Rhaelgyr was staring at the other dragon


  1. Sounds like doing the nasty with a dragon would be very nasty, and not in a good way.

    Nice touch, the drugs in the air.

  2. A common phrase dragons use to outsiders is, "Nothing says love like a broken collarbone." The more violent, the more arousing. Some races can't tell when dragons are having sex or when they're fighting to the death.

