Dragon Treasure by SJ Sanders
Chapter 17
Drathnor took the tray and set it on the desk, paying little mind to the droid that had his mate flinching when moved too close to her. He found it amusing that she rode a mechanical beast and yet had such issue with something as nonthreatening as a service droid. Combat droids and surveillance droids were another matter, and he happily destroyed them whenever they ventured into his territory. Yet even he, who spent much of his time within the mountain, understood the simple pleasures offered by a service droid. Not only were they incredibly useful, but there was no threat that he could discern with them.
And yet his mate distinctly disliked them.
It was puzzling to him, as were the many qualities she possessed. Such a contradictory creature. The illusion she presented to the world of a hardened female hid a female who worried for a bespelled mount. A female who fought him every step of the way and yet delighted in and craved his dominance. A fearless female who eyed him almost as cautiously as the droid, but who seemed more unsettled by her reactions to him than she was of him—she would not bait him as she did if she truly feared him. Though he wondered if she realized that herself.
This was a female he could adore.
She was right, however, to be wary of him. He posed far more of a danger than the droid ever could. Not that he would harm her—she was far too precious to be harmed in any way—but she would never escape him. By Tarachna, he would protect and care for his female, and she would accept his lead.
She wanted to. He could see it burning in the depths of her eyes as she watched, her pink tongue sweeping out to wet her lips. Although her desire burned hot at the surface, beneath it he could feel her calling out to him just as his being called out to her.
It frustrated him that she was not equally aware of him as he was of her. Even though he carefully masked his feelings to do what needed done, how could she not feel his need to please her and give all of himself to her?
A shudder ran through him, and a hiss slipped from between his teeth, startling his mate unintentionally. Self-loathing spiked through him when she jumped. He had not intended to frighten her further. Her lessons and punishment were to convey the seriousness of the mating bond. Even though it was backfiring on him, he did not wish for further distance between them. He wanted for her to understand and for them to draw closer to each other as the bond demanded. Once she understood and committed herself to his care, he would uproot the mountain itself should she ask.
And that intensity there was exactly what alarmed him. The obsessive need for his mate’s happiness and safety was the very reason he had avoided mating. It disturbed him just how much he yearned to be everything that she could want and need. It was an unshakeable impulse, an instinct that overrode his own self-interest. Something that he swore he would never allow, and yet as every minute trickled by, that seemed to matter less and less.
At that moment, he could understand why males gave all they had to the female they desired as their mate. He would do it too if she asked to possess him and all that he owned as a female dragon would do. It made his stomach churn anxiously, souring his mood even as it lit an ember of excitement within him.
He jerked his head, pulling himself out of his ruminations.
There was no use in getting carried away. There were still the lessons that she so grievously needed. As a human she was not instilled with this crucial knowledge that was drilled into dragons when they reached their juvenile years. She had no mother to correct her behavior. Because of that, as her mate, the duty fell to him. He hated to see the anger in her eyes as much as her arousal flooded him with hot excitement.
He swallowed, turning his head so she would not see his reluctance and blatant desire, and picked up a length of rope. He did not like that it fell to him, and it sickened him that he also derived a perverse pleasure watching his mate fight against his claim and yet yield so beautifully to his every touch.
They were so alike, in a way. Each of them determined to remain free and yet caught by the mate bond. The main difference was that she was not consciously aware of its pull, outside of perhaps minor ways while he felt every tug and demand to the center of his being.
Perhaps this was his punishment for denying Tarachna and tradition.
If it were, then he would do what needed to be done without complaint. Perhaps then the goddess would see fit to soften his mate toward him and sway the human’s heart in his favor. It was the prayer that lingered at the tip of his tongue.
Casually, he slowly unwound it so that she could clearly see it and imagine what he might do with it. As expected, her nipples stiffened, and her breath shortened into tiny gulps of air. Pupils dilating, her gaze never moved from him as he slowly walked toward her.
As much as her reaction and the thrum it caused along their bond excited him, Drathnor kept his voice even and uncompromising.
Gripping a short length of the rope into a loop, he dragged it slowly over one splendidly pointed peak, and then the other, his eyes drinking in the way her skin shivered beneath a fine sheen of sweat. Despite her protest over the ice grips, she was not cold.
“There is so much for you to learn, little mate…”
She must have seen the softening of his expression because she did not shrink back and met his eyes.
“Look, seriously, you are barking up the wrong tree there. What we had was fun—and I might not object to doing it again should we be in the same place at the same time—but I am not your mate,” she said as she attempted to yank her foot free. “Let’s face it, not only did I not consent to being mated, but I certainly wouldn’t want a male interested in torturing me without caring about how it will impact my health.”
He let out a surprised bark of laughter, the raspy sound chuffing from him as his wings shook with unrestrained amusement.
“Oh, you did agree, little mate,” he purred, the vibrations triggering a fresh wave of arousal from his eager female as the sound hit her ear. “When I courted you with my essence, you accepted me. Your lovely, tailless ass lifted to me like an offering presented to the gods. From the moment I claimed you, and you accepted the bond, your fate has been sealed. Regardless of what you desire… you are now mine.”
Her eyebrows flew up in surprise, and the scent of panic rushed over him as she twisted and attempted to shake off the rope.
“Fuck you. You can’t just proclaim me as something and expect me to fall into line! I hope your wings rot off right over an abyss and plunge you screaming to its depths!”
“Creative,” he murmured, his hand tightening around the rope. “It seems that in our mating we are going to need some rules. Rule number one, as you should have discerned by now, never remove my treasure from my nest. You have now provided rule two. As words have power in our world, you will never use yours to wish death or pain upon me.”
She stiffened, her entire body going utterly still at the menacing growl he let out. He thought that he had succeeded in truly frightening her, and felt another prick of remorse, but the deepening perfume of her need dispelled that thought.
There was a hint of fear to it, but her scent dripped with desire for him. Catching her gaze with his, he brought the loop back and struck her nipple with it, drawing out a sharp cry from his female.
Her entire body jerked, but the nipple furled tighter, its dusky pink color brightening to a red bloom. His tongue stroked the roof of his mouth, but he kept control over his impulsive desire to lick the pebbled tip. Instead, he dragged the rope across to her other breast, teasing the nipple with the loop there as he continued to speak in a conversational tone.
“You have little choice but to discover the understanding of the bond and what it means for us. Since you will have to look to me for this knowledge, I do not wish to fight you at every turn. As much as you may fight it, understand that I have no intention of hurting my mate. Some small pains bring pleasure, and others can be effective teaching tools—but true pain is another matter. Because of this, you can trust me.”
He cocked his head at her curiously. “With all your forced bravado, have you even noticed that you are not even shivering? This room, while warmed by the fire, is drafty enough that your human skin should have reacted to the cool air. Not even the ice grips cause any discomfort other than the infuriating lack of mobility,” he added with a grin.
He bit back another amused chuff when her brows dipped, and she glanced down at her legs as if determined to discover him caught in a lie. The way her brows immediately winged back up in surprise was even more entertaining. He had never suspected that having a mate could be so much fun. Perhaps it was because she was human, or maybe because she was his alone. He did not have to share her attentions with anyone and so was permitted full enjoyment of his female’s company. She was delightful, and just sharing this with her warmed something deep within him.
“It still feels cold,” she mumbled. “But… you’re right. It doesn’t feel like anything worse than taking a cool bath.” She shook her head, her eyebrows knotting once more. “I don’t get how that’s even possible.”
His grin widened and then dropped, concealing his sharp teeth when she recoiled from his smile. Recovering his nonchalant mask, he gave her a thin, close-mouthed smile. Because of the way his face was shaped there were a few fangs that had visible tips, but he was relieved to see her relax at the adoption of the more neutral expression.
“The mating bond has its own unique magic,” he explained. “Because of my nature, you share some of my magic. The ice and cold will not harm you like it would have before, nor will you any longer share the same vulnerabilities as your human brethren.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Sounds a little too good. What’s the catch?”
His tail twitched in amusement. Clever female.
Drathnor shrugged his wings as he circled around her. She stiffened when he dropped out of her line of vision, her body prickling with awareness. He watched with fascination as her skin broke out with goosebumps everywhere that he touched her with the rope. He had assumed that the response was solely an indicator of being cold, but here he noted it served another purpose. Curious, he lightly snapped the knotted loop against her skin. Her goosebumps were replaced by pink blooms. He admired the marks and enjoyed the soft hiss of her breath escaping from between her teeth.
He would enjoy sharing breath with his mate once more… soon, but not yet.
Along the beautiful curve of her ass, he struck harder until the skin reddened, enjoying her gasps and the intensifying perfume rising from between her thighs.
Dropping down, he slicked his tongue over one cheek, and then other, his saliva cooling the heated flesh. His nose wedged against her thighs, his tongue pushing between them so he could lick the sweet, musky elixir dripping from her. The edge of one fang dragged across her folds, and she trembled against him. Careful of the delicate flesh, he nipped lightly and was rewarded with a fresh flow of her potent cream.
When he sated himself on the taste of her—having enjoyed bringing her to the brink of an orgasm with every lick and nip against the lips of her sex, her clit, the curve of her ass, and the rounded thighs until she screamed in frustration—Drathnor finally stood and stepped back and stalked back, to his place in front of her.
He grinned as he watched her breasts bob with every heaving breath. They were stained with a brilliant blush that traveled from the tops of her breasts and up her neck to her slackened cheeks. He could feel the demanding calls of her need through their bond, begging that he satisfy her. If he were any other ice dragon, he would have likely crawled on his belly eager to please his female. But he was not, and never was he more thankful for his nature.
The intimate contact between them assured him that neither of them was in danger of suffering the pain that her recklessness would have brought them. Although she would suffer from it a lot sooner than him due to her youth and her small, weak body, he made certain that at least one discomfort would be eased. The other—the unsatiated need crawling through her—he would not. Nor would he allow her to seek her own release.
Even though his own body clamored in objection, he ignored it. It was important to impress upon her how much desire, passion, and need were connected and linked with the bond. She might accept physical gratification from him, but it was not what she truly needed. So this time, ignoring his own discomfort, he refused them both release.
He smiled down at her as he unanchored the rope, freeing her arms to drop down at her sides. A temporary respite only. He then turned his attention to the ice around her legs. Carefully applying the tips of his claws to the place where they met her flesh, the ice responded to the manipulation of his magic and crumbled beneath his touch as he carefully scraped it away. She stumbled free of it with a muffled curse, but her eyes widened in surprise when he tugged at the rope.
She put up an admirable fight as he led her to a chair and proceeded to tie her in place to it, her body twisting as she dug her heels into the rug beneath their feet, but they both knew that there was little she could do. In the end she settled for glaring at him as he tied her arms down, anchoring them at her sides by the remaining length of the rope that was binding her to her seat.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, her mouth pinching with displeasure when he tightened the last knot into place and sat back to look upon his handiwork with appreciation. “Just what the hell is going on?”
“Going on?” he aped as he sat next to her, drawing the platters of food toward them. “I am delaying one of your bodily needs to teach you—and remind myself—that empty pleasure cannot take the place of the bond. As mates our needs are linked and can only be satisfied by the other for our wellbeing. Because of that, it is most effective when the carnal joining is vibrated through the bond.” His brow plating rose. “At the same time, I am fulfilling another of your bodily needs by feeding you.”
She gaped at him. “Wait one damn minute. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone for my needs.”
“Precisely,” he said coolly. “Which is why these lessons are necessary because, with dragon mate bonding, our survival is dependent on each other. You already disrupted that by not only removing the seed of my hoard from my nest, but by running—subjecting us both to inescapable pain if you had been successful. This is why you are being educated, since you clearly have no idea that you have no choice in the matter anymore. Instead of glaring at me, you should be thanking me for taking up this duty and dedicating myself to your welfare.”
“Thanking you? Dedicating yourself to my welfare?” she scoffed. “For what and how? I didn’t want to be stolen away from my life. The sex was off the charts, but this is not what I want.”
“Nor I,” he readily admitted, unable to ignore the way she flinched at his admission. But he would not lie to his greatest treasure. “But this is beyond what we want. The bond is not about what we planned for our lives. It is a deep magic tied to our instinctive and most primal selves. You are no longer in pain because of the contact I initiated.” He sighed and gave his mate another closed smile. “Enough. Let us eat.”
“Okay… and how am I going to do that with my hands tied to my sides, genius?” she asked in a faux-sweet tone.
So impatient. But that was youth.
“And now you see part two of the lesson. I will be feeding you, of course,” he said dryly. “Now what would you care to try first, my delicate female?”
He swept a claw toward the selection of berries, tarts, flaky bread, and the thick cuts of meat that covered nearly an entire platter in anticipation of his needs. His mate frowned as she looked over the selection. Her expression changed in the next moment, her nose wrinkling when he took a large portion of meat from his plate and bolted it down with a snap of his teeth. Wide-eyed, she watched, and a shaky laugh escaped her when his tongue lashed against his teeth. He returned her stare.
“Okay then,” she mumbled to herself. Straightening, she shot him annoyed look. Her lips pressed together, he thought she might not bend at all until he caught a mumbled, “Tania.”
His ear fanned toward her. “What is that?”
“My name,” she replied in a surly voice. “If I’m going to be stuck with you for the foreseeable future, I can’t stomach being called any variation of little mate or tiny female.” She eyed him sourly. “Do you have a name, or can I dub you numerous variations on asshole dragon and irritating reptile?”
He smirked and rumbled with amusement.
“Unlike you, I do not object to be called mate.”
“I’m sure, but it’s not happening, dragon,” she returned.
He gave her a keen grin and inclined his head.
“But, given the unflattering options you are giving me… I am your mate, Drathnor.”
Tania snorted and jerked her chin toward the platter closest to him. “Some meat then, Drathnor, you enormous prick of a male.”
As amusing as her comment was, they were not at that point in their bonding where he could permit her to get away with disrespecting him or their bond. Grabbing the tail of hair sagging at the back of her neck, he responded by pulling with just enough force to tip her head back, exposing her neck submissively. He leaned in, his sharp teeth close enough to do serious damage if he were of the mind. She knew that too. She stilled completely, her breath slowing as she waited to see what he would do.
Trust would come slowly, but she would eventually see that there was nothing to fear from him.
The corners of his mouth curving, his eyes fastened to her face as his tongue slipped out of his mouth to stroke the column of her throat. She shivered beneath his touch, her breath hitching.
Gently releasing her, he tore off a small chunk of meat with the tip of his claws and brought it to her lips.
“Eat, Tania, my mate.”