Queen of Dragons
Dragons in Armor
Just another bloody Medieval romance
***
Like a great cat,
the woman moved toward him. He could smell the blood
on her armor. His captors held him still as she reached
out a gauntleted hand. Carefully she touched his breast,
her clawed fingers raking only lightly. She placed
her palm over his heart. He couldn't stop the pounding.
His breath shuddered in his chest from his struggles.
Warmth flooded from
her palm and he looked up at her, startled. Her eyes
were intent, locking onto his. He felt himself drifting,
falling into her bottomless black gaze. He forgot
the guards; he forgot the battle. He only saw the
woman before him.
"Release him,"
he heard her say from far away. She came closer, filling
his vision then her lips touched his in a feather-light
kiss. "Desire me," she said in a voice that
rippled straight to his loins, bringing the fine hairs
of his neck to attention.
Blood surged in him,
filling him with overwhelming need. Pressing forward,
his lips sought closer contact and he found himself
answering her kiss. His mouth opened to take possession
of hers. She let him within, her tongue stroking his
and he shuddered with violent passion. She surged
into his arms and he found his hands released to embrace
her, his ankles free as he rose on one knee to meet
her.
Her strength was incredible;
her armor-plated body as heavy as anyone wearing plate
mail might be but she was surprisingly warm and fluid
as she held him. The scales on her back and spine
seemed to fold away their sharp edges under his bare
hands.
With surprising strength
and ease, she knocked him back on the hard stone floor
then straddled his hips. His manhood was aching, trapped
against the leather of his codpiece. He almost cried
out in his sudden need to bury it in her warm flesh.
She rose up on him; her clawed fingertips raked gently
across his nipples then down his stomach, scoring
him with livid marks. He shuddered at the fierce pleasure.
A moan was startled out of him.
