Part 20

Why are you shaking? Zaira asked herself as she looked up at Gaavan. His blue eyes were sparkling in the candlelight, and so intense she thought they were going to bore right through her. She wanted this; she wanted him, and yet…Something inside rebelled at the thought of letting a man—even one she trusted as much as Gaavan—touch her.

“I’m sorry,” she started to whisper, but his lips smothered the words before she could get them out. He kissed her with such intensity she thought she was going to melt beneath him. Yet the very center of her remained frozen in ice.

She could feel him, feel his heat on her bare skin, and his chest brushing against her distended nipples as he pressed her hard to himself both excited her and sent panic to steal her breath. Her head was spinning; this wasn’t happening, she wanted it to happen, no, don’t let this happen…Thinking perhaps she could drive away these uncertainties by sheer force of will, she kissed him back hard enough to hear him gasp behind her kiss. But still, the dark doubt nagged at her.

Her breath caught in her throat and she ripped her mouth away from his, evading his attempts to draw her back into his embrace. She turned in his arms and covered her face, with her cheeks burning in shame. She would have fled, but the heavy robe about her arms held her captive. “Please,” she whispered as the tears streaked her face, more to herself than to him.

“Zaira,” he whispered in her ear as he leaned forward. His arms went around her waist, pulling her back against him. She whimpered with frustration, turning back around and leaning against his chest. “Shhh…” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Talk to me.”

“I…I thought I’d gotten past all this,” she whispered, twining her fingers in his hair. “I mean…I’ve been planning this night for over a week!”

He laughed softly, a low rumble in his chest. “What do you expect?” he asked. “You’ve spent your whole life avoiding the male half of the population. I don’t think you’re going to lose those feelings in just a week. Or even two.” He leaned back and looked down at her. “Even I know that. But…” He touched his fingers to her lips to lightly trace them. “I’m here to help you.”

“I know that,” she said softly against his fingertips. “I wanted it to be tonight, though.”

“Is it that important?” When she nodded, he twisted his hand to bring his fingers under her chin. “Why?”

“Because…I…” She fought with the words that would not come. “I want to be with you,” was all she could come up with.

Gaavan smiled at her. “And I want you, but not if you have to force yourself—“

“It’s not like that!” she insisted. “I…just, there’s so many bad memories associated with being touched, letting someone that close to me…” She trailed off and lowered her eyes. “I really thought the last few days had changed that.”

“We might still give it a try,” he suggested. His hand dropped to her waist and rested lightly on her hip. “If you still want to.”

“Of course I do! I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if I didn’t want to sleep with you!”

“Good.” With that, he leaned down and covered her mouth again. Surprise made her clumsy at first, but she soon warmed to his kiss and found enough courage to slip first one arm then the other around his neck. It was only then she realized that he was kneeling on the mattress in front of her. Kneeling in front of her…Consciously, she knew it was simply a matter of convenience to bring his face closer to hers but subconsciously that thought alone gave her a sense of power beyond anything she’d known. To have him here, kneeling before her…She drew strength from that and pulled herself closer to him, kissing him with more and more ardor.

She felt his hands slip around to her back then up, under the robe. Thinking he wanted to rid her of it, she pulled her arms from around his neck and moved to let the heavy robe slip down them. He caught her arms and put them back around his neck. “Leave it,” he said, hardly louder than a breath. “Black is a good color for you.”

Nodding, she did as he said, and pulled him closer. He went willingly, kissing her chin then moving down her neck. His teeth grazed her skin over a pressure point and she nearly collapsed as her knees gave out. If it hadn’t been for her hold around his neck, she would have.

Slowly and deliberately, he lowered her to the mattress, and knelt over her, arranging the robe and her hair so they fanned around her. She laid back with her arms over her head, feeling wicked and wanton for exposing herself to him like this, but it felt good, too. To see him leaning over her, drinking in the sight of her, his long hair falling over his shoulders like blood rain, her fears seemed irrational.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this?” he asked, resting one hand on either side of her head and peering down at her.

“How long?”

“Longer than I care to admit. I wanted it before I consciously knew it.” He leaned down and covered her lips with his as he twisted to lie beside her. He lay there propped on one arm and used the other to trace the line of her jaw then the curve of her neck. Biting off a gasp, she shivered under his touch.

“That gives me chills,” she said softly.

“I can tell,” he said with just a hint of a smirk on his lips. His eyes flickered down and she followed it to see that her nipples had grown very hard. She blushed and started to lower her arms to cover her breasts. “No,” he said. “Don’t.” He pushed her arms back to the mattress above her. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Nervously, she bit her lip and tried to relax. But how was she supposed to relax when he was looking at her like that? When every touch sent chills along her spine, caused her heart to race, and her breath to catch? When a fire burned in her belly, a fire stoked with the sight and sound of him, the smell and taste, the feel of him? When every moment that fire melted more and more of the ice at the core of her being? Feeling as if she were going to fly to pieces, she leaned back her head and closed her eyes.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when he leaned down and kissed her neck again. Her eyes flew open as he splayed his lips across her skin, drawing on it lightly. His tongue swept across her skin, leaving behind a trail of wetness that cooled her skin and sent shivers across her body. Even as he kissed her neck, his hand was continuing its exploration, tracing the lines of her neck and her shoulder. Just fingertips at first, rough and calloused from hard use, then with the flat of his hand. He moved it out to the point of her shoulder then down her side to her waist. His kisses upon her neck increased in their urgency as he worked to distract her as his hand slipped over the flat surface of her stomach.

Gasping, Zaira clenched in on herself, drawing her stomach muscles in tight under his touch. She felt a soft chuckle go through his frame as he laid his hand flat upon her stomach, feeling her flesh quiver as she held herself stiff. Letting out a soft sigh, she relaxed; her stomach fluttered involuntarily as she did so.

His hand jerked back and he pulled back abruptly. “Wh-what…?” she asked as he stared down at her, a strange expression on his face.

“What did you just do?” he asked, his voice a rasp against steel.

“I…N-nothing,” she answered, even more nervous now. She lowered her arms to cover her breasts and this time he didn’t stop her. Thinking she’d done something wrong, she started to curl around herself and roll away from him. But he stopped her and pulled her back over onto her back.

“You did.” He laid his hand on her flat belly. “Do it again.”

“Do what?”

“You…moved.”

Slowly it began to dawn on her what he was talking about. “You…mean this?” She laid her hand on top of his and fluttered her stomach muscles under his hand, closely watching his face. A thrill went through her as he closed his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. Feeling a little braver, she did a belly roll, down then back up.

“Damn, woman,” he muttered, leaning down and pressing his lips against her neck again, moving lower and lower as his hand remained pressed firmly against her stomach. “That’s got to be the sexiest thing I’ve ever…” Breathing hard, he pulled her tight against his body as he moved down further to kiss her skin in the valley between her breasts. His hand moved downward slightly, but a slight tensing in her grip upon his arm changed its course back up to cup one of her breasts.

His touch was fire upon her skin. Her breath hissed in her throat at the touch of another on her breasts. It was so alien to be both exciting and frightening at the same time. Her skin warmed and she knew her face was flushed by the heat in her cheeks. He was touching her, stroking her and it was intoxicating. His unbound hair slipped off his shoulder and brushed against her skin in the very way that she’d imagined that night she’d first brushed out his hair for him. It laid smooth and cool and heavy upon her skin. She found herself arching up hard under his touch, forcing his lips against her flesh.

Even as she arched against him, he brought his knees up under him, and slipped his hands under her back to bring her upright again so that she was straddling his legs as he knelt before her. He supported her easily with his huge hands splayed across her back. Zaira put her hands lightly on his shoulders, but he shrugged first one off, then turned and caught a finger of her other hand in his mouth.

It was her turn to hiss as he sucked her finger deep into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it and playing at the base with his tongue. She shivered as her skin turned to gooseflesh and not from the chill, night air. His breath played across the dampened trail he left upon her skin, chilling it more. “Gaavan…” she whispered in a voice nothing more than a ragged breath. “Mmmm…” he responded, still suckling on her finger. He let the digit slip out of his mouth and his tongue was free to wander into the depression in her palm to trace the creases there.

Her eyes flew open as her breath fled her body. Never had she felt anything quite so exquisite as his lapping at her palm. Her fingers curled involuntarily around his cheek and brushed against his ear as he worked to the heel of her hand, nipping and suckling lightly as he went. He paused as he reached her inner wrist and latched on just above the line of her bracelet. Shivers traveled up her arm and down her spine to settle in the back of her lap, making her squirm against him. She could feel the smile on his lips against her wrist as he suckled harder.

Just when she thought she would burst, he released her and moved further down her arm. Panting, she toyed with this hair and rim of his ear, completely forgetting that she was holding her arm there for him of her own violation. Nothing outside the feel of his lips against her skin made it through the wonderful, warm haze that enveloped her. And so it wasn’t until he was lapping gently at the sensitive skin on the inside of her elbow. Every nip and lick and suckle wracked her with new sensations the like of which she had never felt before.  Drunk with them, she let herself go limp, trusting him to hold her steady. Her fingers twisted in his hair while he pushed the loose sleeve of the robe she wore up out of the way to gain better access to her arm.

“Ahh…” she breathed, a long low sigh of pleasure. “That’s so nice…” Her words were slurred and run together. Unconsciously, she rocked her hips against him as he kissed her arm; she was feeling quite warm and content, and a little wanton, as well: Splayed across his lap as she was, wearing nothing but the robe she’d made for him. It had fallen across her breasts and hid them, but it did nothing to hide the sloping plane of her stomach and the gentle swell of her sex. And here she was rubbing herself against his leg, leaving a warm trail of wetness on his strong thigh.

He pulled back a little, and she squeaked softly in protest. It turned quickly into a low moan as he merely shifted from her arm to the peak of her ripe breast in one swift motion. He bore down through the stiffly embroidered silk that covered her. Lifting her and bending her further backward, he lay her on her on the mattress. Before she could react, he shifted from that breast to the other, shoving aside the robe to take her distended nipple in his teeth. Shock at finding him suckling her breasts dulled her senses long enough for him to reach downward and shuck his trousers. Then in one swift movement, he scooped her back up, set him astride himself, and held her up so he could continue to mouth her breasts in comfort.

Zaira fought for breath as she clenched her fists in his hair. Her legs went around him to support herself (needlessly, she knew, but couldn’t help the reflex) and yet all that did was force her legs open, letting the cool air in against her most private parts. She felt vulnerable and exposed; yet instead of frightening her, it excited her. Reacting to this newfound excitement, she pulled herself closer to him using her strong dancer’s legs and linked her ankles together behind him; this pressed her sex against the hard muscles of his stomach. Smiling through her hormonally induced haze, she could feel his stomach clench as she spread her scent upon him.

“Damn, woman…” he growled into the curve of her breast as he nearly lost his balance and teetered dangerously on his knees before he managed to catch himself and settle backwards onto his heels. The flame-haired dancing girl let her head fall backwards as she laughed soundlessly at his response. Her hair trailed onto the mattress beneath her like a waterfall lit at sunset. However, her laughter turned into a gasp as he settled her legs further down his waist, forcing them open even more, and for the first time she was touched by another in that secret place.

She paused, arched and poised over him like a bow drawn to its breaking point. For a fateful moment, dark images passed before her eyes but the fire inside her, kindled by this giant that held her, burned them away; laid them bare, stripped away the cloaking shadows of her fears. Pulling herself up, she released her hold on his waist until she was resting supported on his legs with his member nestled against her cleft, its throbbing heat pressed against her.

Gaavan ducked his head down close to hers and used a slight pressure on her cheek from his to lift her face up. Zaira looked at him, deep into his smoldering eyes. He mouthed something, too soft for her to hear—or perhaps the blood rushing through her ears was just too loud to make out his words. She nodded absently in acknowledgement and leaned back a little bit to look down between them. In the dim light, she could just make out the shape of him; her throat tightened at the sight. She had never seen a man in full arousal before and hadn’t expected this. An icy stab of fear lanced through her belly; how was she supposed to take him into her when he was so huge?

As if he read her mind, he reached up to extract one of her hands from his hair. Zaira let him and he guided it down between them. Gently, he placed her fingers against him, between the shaft and his body. Hesitantly, she smoothed her hand down his length, feeling him, marveling at how hard and hot he was. Near the base, she gathered the courage to curl her fingers around him; she could feel the blood throbbing beneath his skin.

A sharp gasp brought her gaze upwards and she saw he was sitting there, his head thrown back and eyes tightly closed. A soft hissing moan escaped from his lips as she pulled her hand upward, stroking him. Even as she did this, she felt him grow even harder, amazingly enough, under her hands. His skin was so hot to the touch, she thought she was going to scorch her hands on him. Yet, his heat answered hers pressed as he was against her own engorged and enflamed sex. Resting one hand on his shoulder for support, she leaned forward to balance herself. With her other hand pressing his member tightly against her, she rocked her hips against him, lifting herself just a bit.

And nearly choked on her breath at the exquisite pleasure she felt. Swallowing hard, she moved, rubbing herself against him. A shudder passed through her and into him, traveled along his extremities, and returned back to her. She fell forward against his chest, open mouth pressed against his chest as she started moving in earnest against him. Vaguely she felt his hands upon her hips, steadying and helping her to move as she felt something coil tight within her, painfully tight. It felt so good, but something told her that it was only a prelude; that whatever it heralded would be orders of magnitude greater than this. Vaguely, distantly, she heard herself making soft, wordless noises that were muffled against his hard chest. She felt rather than heard his own replies; deep rumblings in his chest that rolled through her like earth tremors.

She clung to him like a creeper vine to a wall as she writhed and took her pleasure upon him. Sweat rolled down her bare skin between her breasts, and down her abdomen; she could see the perspiration glistening on his own skin and tasted salt as she kissed his skin. The heat trapped between them was like an inferno; his scent aerosolized and mixed with her own to form a heady perfume. His member was slick under her hands, from both her womanhood and the moisture that leaked out the tip of his manhood. She teased the opening there, spreading that moisture around his thickness, mixing it with her own. A lazy smile curled her lips upwards as he reared back—nearly toppling them both—and growled low and deep and long.

Very soon, however, her writhing ceased to be teasing as that something that was building inside of her rose up and demanded her attention. She settled into a steady rocking motion, holding him pressed tightly against her flesh. “Concentrate,” Gaav whispered in her ear. “Relax and feel me against you.” She nodded and whimpered; she wanted this to happen, it was going to happen, when would it happen—

It was as if everything inside of her had congealed down into a small, tightly coiled spring in her loins then suddenly exploded outwards. If the tightening of the spring had felt wonderful, there were not words to describe it breaking. Her muscles clenched and unclenched of their own accord; each convulsion brought greater pleasure than before. She held herself stiffly, trying to savor each precious second of eternity, but Gaav was lifting her up, pulling his phallus—rock hard and dripping with their combined juices—away from her. Pulling her hand away from him. Weakly, she protested; she needed his contact, wanted it…

She needn’t have worried; he merely shifted her so that he could place the tip against her opening. She smiled at the strange feeling, at how her sex sucked and pulled at him. Using her own control over her muscles, she exaggerated the movements, which set off another wave of convulsions. Again: Clasp, release. Clasp, release—

A sharp, stabbing thrust brought her down over him in one quick motion, ripping her maidenhead. Zaira threw back her head and screamed, digging her nails into his shoulders. Tears forced their way from under her eyelashes and streamed down her cheeks, but even as it burned, the sudden onslaught of pain set off yet another round of spasms. Her screech of pain metamorphosed into one of pleasure and she collapsed, boneless and helpless, into his arms.

* * *

“Zaira…” Gaav breathed as he held the limp girl close in his arms. His chest heaved like a blacksmith’s bellows and his blood was pounding so hard in his ears he couldn’t hear anything over it for several minutes. When it finally subsided to a dull hissing, he gathered his wits and looked down at her. At first, he thought she’d passed out and made as if to lie her on the mattress, but her fingers clenched his arms.

“No,” she breathed. “Don’t…”

Smiling, he held her tight against his chest. He could smell her scent; it was strong and warm in the cool night air. Her hair hung about her in damp curls, and as he tilted her head back to look at her, he thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful. He leaned down and covered her lips with his own, kissing her hard as he shifted his hold to her buttocks. She gasped into his mouth as he sat up on his knees, supporting her and yet driving himself deeper into her.

She fought and pulled away from his mouth to arch backwards. “Could you…not do that…? Just yet? It’s a bit uncomfortable.”

Chuckling softly, he nodded and sat back on his heels. “Whatever you say.”

“Ah…Better,” she whispered as she lifted herself up a bit. It was Gaav’s turn to hiss. With a grin, she rocked her hips on him, pulling back then sliding back onto him and watched his face closely as she did so. “Like that?” she whispered in a sultry breath.

Gaav looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes, a curl to his upper lip. He thrust his hips up suddenly, slamming into her. “What do you think?” he growled. Leaning forward, he took her face between his huge hands, tilted it upwards and kissed her hard. He tugged at her lips with his teeth, slipping his tongue between them as he did so. She let him in, even playfully nipping at the tip of his tongue as he broke past her guard, but soon was lost in his kiss. Her arms went around his neck as she continued to rock her hips on him. Unwillingly, he straightened as his hands dropped down to her waist to help her move. Zaira leaned forward against him, mouthing his chest as she kept moving and moving. His heart was racing again as he stabbed repeatedly into her heat.

They moved together like that for several more minutes until Gaav thought he was going to be incinerated by the fire inside her. Never had he experienced such passion with a human before. He’d experimented a few times when he was young in this body, and had never lacked for partners when he’d desired them. He’d found something lacking in these casual dalliances, and grew discontent. When it became too dangerous to stay in one place for any great length of time he ceased to indulge himself in them.

All of that was forgotten as she rode him mercilessly. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he couldn’t move very well, and had to let her do most of the work. Not that he was complaining; quite the opposite. He was surprised and pleased that she seemed to have gotten past her fears and reservations about being touched and embraced the idea with such enthusiasm. His lips curled upwards in a smile as he realized how very appropriate that metaphor was when applied to their current activity, for she was being very enthusiastic. So much so that he felt that he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer under her relentless onslaught…

“Zaira,” he hissed between his clenched teeth as he gripped her buttocks. “I…”

Her answer was a soft moaning that rose to a sharp intake of breath. Gaav’s eyes flew open and he sat up again, pressing himself into her as he felt her peak. Her muscles clenched powerfully, painfully, around him. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he barely managed to lean forward enough to drop her the short distance to the mattress and catch himself on his hands. Bracing himself, he pulled back before thrusting hard into her—or rather pulled back into her by her powerful muscles. Back bowed upwards and teeth gritted hard enough to crack them, he glanced down to where they were joined and watched in wonder as her belly rolled with each contraction; each contraction was punctuated by a soft keen. The sight, sound and feel of her was just too much: With a soundless roar, the Chaos Dragon King arched his back and spent himself inside her.

Several minutes later, his senses returned and he blinked, surprised to find himself crouched over her still. The candles had all burned themselves out, and her face was hidden in darkness, but he could see her eyes glittering. His arms were shaking with the strain of holding himself like this; carefully, he shifted to the side to lower himself to the mattress beside her, and gathered her into his arms. She came to him eagerly, drawing against his chest and shivering a bit.

“’S wrong?” he asked, his speech slurred.

“Nothing,” she whispered, a warm breath against his chest. “Cold.”

“Ah,” he sighed in response, and pulled the thick quilt over the two of them, tucking it around her shoulders. “Better?”

She nodded and wedged one of her legs up against his. He shifted, lifting his leg and letting her slip hers between his, then rested his on top of hers so that they were lying all entwined about each other: Hair, arms, legs, spirits…

“Mmmm…” she murmured; it was a happy, contented sound made deep in her throat as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Thank you.”

Gaav opened his eyes; he’d been on the verge of sleep. It’s siren call was hard to resist, but he dragged himself back at her comment. “For what?” he asked while he stroked her hair.

“For…this. For taking the time…”

He smiled and tucked her head under his chin. “Not a problem,” he murmured. “It’s been, in fact, my pleasure.” He chuckled and added to himself, And what a pleasure it’s been, as sleep tugged at him once again.

He felt a slight tugging on his hair. Cracking his eyes open, he found her looking up at him and playing with a lock of his hair. “Go to sleep, my dragon,” she whispered. “You deserve your rest.”

A sleepy smile tugged at his lips as he tightened his arms around her. “You’re damn right I do.” He let his eyes slide shut as he made himself comfortable, but added, “You’re a harsh taskmistress.” And her soft laugh accompanied him down the paths to sleep.

Slayers copyright 1991-2000 by Hajime Kanzaka/Rui Araizumi/Kadokawa Shoten/TV TOKYO/SOFTX/Marubeni.
The other characters copyright Wendy W Lee.