Prince of Dragons (3 page)

In the two lunar months they’d been working together, they’d been through a major crisis, trained new guards and improved the quality of security on the
Orion
. And through it all, the heat of desire hadn’t faded, and he still refused to act on it.

Her gasp of shock caught in her throat and, as their eyes held, it became a soft, escalating moan as she climaxed harder than she had all night, pleasure imploding deep within her pussy and then exploding outward through her body. Her co-commander’s voyeurism was as delicious as the cock inside her.

By the time she finally managed to open her pleasure-drugged eyes, he was gone.

A short time later Sirena stepped outside the pilot’s stateroom and stopped short, startled to see her co-commander of the Serpentian guard walking toward her. Walk—such a colorless word to describe the way he moved. He strode, he prowled like the magnificent male creature he was. His tall, heavily muscled body erect and graceful, his beautifully shaped head held high, he surveyed her with narrowed eyes.

His sculpted jaw was still clenched, his nostrils flared. Pushing back her hair, she eyed him cautiously. Great serpents, he wasn’t embarrassed. He was furious.

Perhaps it would teach him a lesson. He could have been the male groaning with pleasure beneath her.

Her own body hummed with satisfaction. She’d left her latest lover sprawled across the bed in the stateroom behind her. He wouldn’t wake for a long time, but when he did, it would be with a smile. As she recalled some of the things he’d done to her and with her, the corners of her mouth curled up with satisfaction.

If she’d sighed, feeling detached even as he groaned his eternal devotion, that was no one’s business but her own. As was the fact she’d come most deliciously of all with Slyde watching them.

“Commander Stone,” she said now, ignoring the way his narrow gaze made her want to touch her flight suit to see if it smoldered. Even after coming several times in the last hours, she still felt the usual low curl of desire at his nearness. But she’d resolved from the beginning that she wouldn’t hang on his sleeve. That was for dewy-eyed ingénues. Let the great beast tell her what was wrong, if he wished.

Otherwise, she was headed straight for a hot shower-dry.

Slyde berated himself in savage silence. What had he been thinking to confront Sirena here outside her lover’s door? Nothing coherent, that was certain. Since the instant he first saw her, he’d been thinking mostly with his cock.

After he’d refused her in the bar that first night, he’d seen the fighter pilot preen himself before her. Had known how it would end when the fellow swaggered out of the bar after her. And he’d watched the scene repeated several times in the last two months. The lovely, sensual Sirena was a typical Serpentian, sharing her body with any male she chose. And he was nearing the end of his patience. He’d done his best to show her how well they got along as they trained, planned and worked together, had even resorted to showing off in sparring. But still she turned to other men.

In a savage mood, he’d spent the last few hours patrolling the passageways of the
Orion
, from the command deck to the lowest cargo storage levels. He’d been between the ballroom and the passenger quarters when he was jolted out of his foul temper by a slight, acrid scent.

He’d stopped and closed his eyes, opening his olfactory senses further to the smells eddying around him. A cruise and transport ship, the
Orion
carried cargo and beings from the far ends of the galaxy, all on various intersecting journeys across the galaxy.

Some of the beings, to be honest, stank. Serpentians, with their enhanced olfactory senses, had to put up with those who weren’t as meticulous in personal hygiene as they. Once in a while, fresh cargo spoiled and the stench invaded the area outside the cargo bays before it could be jettisoned and the bay cryogenically cleansed. Those incidents were to be expected.

But this scent left uneasiness slithering through him. He couldn’t trace it anywhere in particular, but he
knew
it. It was the scent of danger. Since his first duty was to the safety of his ship, he tried instantly to contact his co-commander to alert the guard and begin a concerted search.

When she didn’t answer, he’d overridden a prime rule of courtesy on board ship and opened a com-link between them. He bitterly regretted his decision. Because now he had to do more than imagine the things she allowed her lovers to do to her—the things he dreamed of doing to her, with her, himself.

Now he’d seen her. Her lovely body naked, kneeling astride another male, riding him with perfect, sensual grace. Had seen the other man’s hands on the taut swell of her ass, his mouth on the perfect globes of her breasts.

Now he knew her skin was the same silken gold over her entire body, save for the dusky peach of her nipples and the delicate line of auburn that limned her mons. Knew how those scant curls looked soaked with another man’s seed, how the pink lips of her labia stretched taut around another man’s glistening cock as he drove it in and out of her.

Now he knew her soft, escalating moans as she enjoyed her orgasm. And the look in her eyes as she came, because their eyes had locked and he’d been unable to break away, drowning in those emerald depths.

Controlling his anger with a supreme effort, he stopped before her. Her golden cheeks were flushed, emerald eyes sleepy, her auburn mane tousled. Even the collar of her sleek top was crooked, which she would never allow on duty. It was obvious she’d just come from her lover’s arms. Arms that Slyde wanted to rip off and feed to the bastard.

He grimaced as her fragrances mingled with the stench of another male ripped at his sensitive olfactory glands like rotting Pangaean fruit.

She raised an arching brow at him.

“Commander?” she asked in her throaty voice. “Are you well?”

“That’s a question I might ask you,” he answered, his deep voice as rough as mountain stones grating together. “Were the answer not so obvious.”

She straightened, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Merely that a shower-dry is in order. You reek of your lover’s sweat.”

“Commander Stone. You forget yourself.”

“Forget?” he sneered. “I’m not the one who has lain with too many lovers to remember.”

She drew in a hiss of pure rage, her emerald eyes going molten.

Good—let her have a taste of the frustrated rage he’d been battling since he laid eyes on her and realized that here was the woman of his dreams—his fervid, tormenting dreams—and that she would never be his… unless she agreed to his terms, which she was unlikely to do. Why should she, when she could enjoy any male she chose, for as long as she chose, instead of pledging herself to just one?

“I presume you had an important reason for following me?” she asked with dangerous softness. “And for spying on me?”

“It will wait,” he bit out.

He’d come on this voyage to look for a woman—a far different kind of woman. The kind who’d saved herself for marriage and who was chaste. Instead, he’d taken one look across that hellhole of a bar on Solaria and fallen like a space rock for this beauty, a warrior who could fell a man as easily with a kick or a look—and did both with regularity.

He turned his back on her before she could reply and before he could do what he really wanted: throw her over his shoulder, carry her off to his quarters and toss her in his shower-dry until she’d been through three or more cleaning cycles. And then…imprint his own touch and scent on her, so thoroughly she would never want another.

Slamming through an open hatchway, he raced down one of the many small spiral staircases, not caring where it led as long as it was away from her and what he wanted of her.

Chapter Four

The doors of the
Orion’s
arboretum slid open, and a young passenger wandered in, clad in brief vacation wear. Mina Starline inhaled a deep breath of the damp air, full of the mysterious spicy scents of the lush, green foliage. A brilliantly colored bird darted past her head and she ducked, then giggled.

Flipping back her long blonde hair, artfully streaked with pale blue and turquoise, she touched the jeweled earpiece of her com-link. The melting tones of a hit love song filled her ears as she wandered along the winding path to the edge of the grotto-like pool.

Sinking down on a large faux rock, she gazed at the cascading waterfall. Trailing fern fronds danced in the spray. Orchids dangled, delicate pink and orange blossoms swaying.

It had been worth every bit of wheedling, convincing her parents to give her a cruise for her birthday. Wait until she told her friends in Frontiera City about the hot Serpentian ship guards.

Chaz Jaguari launched into the chorus of his ballad, “I would follow you to the end of the stars,” in his trademark lazy growl.

But instead of listening, Mina wrinkled her nose. What was that smell? It reminded her of a family vacation on their home planet of Frontiera. They had stayed in a geo-tent and in the evenings sat around a fire made of wood.

She peered into the deep shadows beyond the pool. Had someone or something moved back there? If there were other passengers in here, she wished they would speak. Lurking was just creepy.

Another, larger bird burst out of the shrubbery, trailing purple feathers and golden topknot. It uttered a liquid burble as it landed on the path and strutted toward her. She sighed with relief—only a gemcock.

The bird stopped midstride, one claw lifted, head cocked to peer in her direction. Then suddenly it dropped its jeweled tail and scurried away behind a large clump of gently swaying orchids.

Hearing a sound behind her, Mina froze. That had sounded like footsteps—and not those of any bird. A low growl followed, sending a chill of fear through her. Oh, stardust, she was obviously not the only being in here, and she really didn’t want to meet the owner of that menacing growl.

She shot off of the rock, looking around her. This path must come out by one of the doors. She scurried around another bend in the path. The footsteps sounded again, closer behind her. She whirled.

“W-who’s there? Show yourself,” she said, her voice quavering.

The foliage rustled violently, and the scent of smoke filled her nostrils again. Her eyes wide, she stood frozen with terror as a huge, golden shape emerged from the shadows.

Half man, half mythical beast, he stood upright like a man, looked like one in most respects except that his skin had a golden, scale-like sheen. His forehead looked even more reptilian, plated in heavy scales which swept up from a point to form prominent brow bones, then rose to two flaring horn-like protrusions above his skull. And behind his back—were those
wings?

He looked like a
…a dragon!

He looked straight at her with his fiery golden eyes, and his lips parted, revealing glistening white teeth. He emitted a deep, guttural growl and took a step toward her. That was when she realized he was naked and a huge golden phallus hung between his thighs.

With a faint whimper, she fainted, collapsing to the soft earth.

The beast stalked nearer. For a long moment he loomed over her, his nostrils flaring as he drew in her feminine scent. His mighty claws clenched into fists. Throwing back his head, he let out a roar that echoed through the quiet arboretum. Flames shot from his mouth, arcing through the air to a low hanging branch. Smoke billowed. A bunch of leaves smoldered and then hung limp, wisps of smoke drifting upward.

With a low hiss, artificial rain began to patter down through the branches—the arboretum sprinklers reacting to the fire. The drops fell in silver curtains until every hint of smoke disappeared.

The rain spangled the dragon’s shoulders, ran in rivulets down over his horn-plated skull. Shaking the moisture from his partially furled wings with an irritable twitch, the dragon paced down the path and stopped at the curve to look toward the main doors. He sniffed the damp air and tilted his head to listen. His jeweled eyes examined the lush growth. At last, satisfied that there was no sound save the pooling raindrops, dripping off the leaves and that nothing else breathed in the arboretum save the birds, he turned back.

She lay where she had fallen, a delicate picture of feminine grace in her pale outfit, her long blonde hair flung out in disarray across the mosses. Molten gaze fastened on her, he prowled slowly nearer.

The female was young, lovely and completely defenseless. He could do what he wanted, with no one the wiser. But she was not the prey he desired.

He flung back his head and roared his frustration and rage to the jungle.

Sirena stepped out of the shower-dry unit in her beautifully appointed stateroom and stretched. Ah, that was better. The hot water and her special herbal soap had soothed her, helping her regain her earlier relaxation. She would sleep like a hatchling for the rest of the night—if she could stop thinking about Slyde Stone.

Drat the big fang-lizard. Bad enough that she’d most enjoyed another perfectly good male when he was watching, but now he’d attacked her verbally. Just wait until they were on duty—she’d give him the tirade he deserved.

She frowned into her mirror. Her freshly washed hair waved back off her face to fall about her shoulders, bright as flame against the pale gold of her skin, accentuating her emerald eyes.

Smoothing her hands down over her hips, she relaxed, her full lips curving up in a tiny smile. She had the body of a courtesan, voluptuous and lithe. It was only when she moved that one saw the taut muscles, the balance and grace in each movement.

Males loved her body. Rarely did one refuse her. In fact, she had to only to select from those who pursued her. As Slyde had not.

But he was jealous. Her eyes narrowed as a thrill of pleasure shot through her. She gave her body where she chose, for as long as she chose. But with Slyde… perhaps she could use his jealousy to reel him in. She definitely knew what to do with him once she got him.

Touching her lips, she imagined him bending to kiss her. She drew in a shaken breath, and stared at herself in the mirror. What had come over her? Just the thought of that great hulk kissing her had her silly as a young girl.