Page 125 of Veiled Flames
It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options—not beyond waiting for an unlikely rescue.
My hand brushes his scales, and the dragon reacts, shifting again, tilting his neck and moving the handle even closer. I see the second one now.
Encouraged, I slide my fingers forward, but I can’t reach the handle.
I let go of the bar, and my boots slip across the cage floor, sliding me toward the dragon. I crash against his solid body, but rise onto my toes and manage to grab the handle.
Pulling myself up on a strong exhale, I reach for the second one. I got it.
I pause, gasping for breath and willing my heart rate to slow. But between fear and excitement, calming my heart seems unlikely. I’m hanging now, my body and face against the dragon’s scales as I hold onto his saddle handles. At least I’m holding what Ihopeare his handles.
The behemoth shifts away from the lift. If my fingers slip now, I’ll fall to my death. I only hope the fall kills me, so I won’t be aware when I’m incinerated, speared by his talons or crushed between his teeth.
The behemoth is breathing slowly, taking long, deep breaths that shift my body with each one. I sense his warmth but also his immense power. Do I dare climb atop him?CanI?
With one movement, this dragon could crush me against the canyon wall or swing me right off his body. But every instinct tells me that’s not his intent. If he wanted that, he’d already have done it.
Remembering how the dragon masters encouraged Tynan to use his feet, I pull myself up with aching arms, enough that I can bend one leg and brace my boot against the dragon’s scales. And then the other.
His body continues to expand and contract with long breaths, and now that some of my weight is on my legs, my tired arms find the strength to pull me higher.
Climbing up, I pull my body into a crouch and then spot the pommel. It’s not as large as I feared, given the size of the rest of him, and it’s glistening with what I hope is the lubricant Roule assured us would ease its entry.
The pommel’s tip isn’t as narrow as the trainer that I pushed into my bum hole, but it’s no bigger than the men’s rods I’ve takeninside my cunny. Too bad that’s not where it’s going. It’s difficult to believe that this pommel might secure me to this dragon when he flies.
But this is my moment. My moment to prove that a woman can do this. ThatIcan do this. My moment to prove everyone wrong.
Pushing my left leg firmly against the dragon, I tug up with my arms and swing my right over the ridge of his spine.
I did it.
I pause, panting, feeling his hard back bone land solidly between my legs. During my encounter with Egon and Amis, my back flap was torn fully open. It’s split now between my widely spread legs, and his scales brush the skin at the center of my cleft.
Do I dare attempt a true mounting?
The fullness of that trainer was tolerable, even pleasurable, but its initial entrance was painful, even using the bear grease.
I back up slowly, until I feel the pommel bump up against me. The beast bucks, and my body lifts off his spine.
When I drop, his pommel lands inside me. But not in my bum hole where it belongs. It enters my cunny.
I gasp, even though I feel no real pain.
Emotions rush through me, and my eyes close as I’m flooded with gratitude, flooded with pleasure and utter contentment—more than I could ever imagine. What I’m feeling isn’t the same as when a man’s rod is inside me. Not exactly. It’s like I can feel more. Like I can hear more. See more, even though my eyes are still closed.
The pommel expands, its length growing a few finger widths, and even more joy rushes through me.
I open my eyes to discover the behemoth has lifted his head. The spikes along the back of his neck shine in the morning sunlight, their tips sharp enough to pierce any armor. Some of his scales glow as if gilded, and high above me, shorter spikes encircle the top of his head like a crown.
I am Zogar.A booming voice fills my mind.You are Rosomon.
How does he know my name?
You told me, he answers through the undeniable bond between us.
This connection is already far stronger than the dragon masters or Tynan described. It’s like we’re inside each other’s minds. Why would the masters understate this bond in their descriptions?
Male riders are inferior,Zogar answers my unspoken question.Dragons are reluctant to communicate through the opening men present to them. Your body was designed to ride dragons.
