The Shalafae Archives - Blood Games

Naughtiness, on the heels of "Woo Her" and "Hello".

***

Alzair Shalafae led her through dark corridors, deep into the castle. The young woman burned with curiosity, but remained quiet. Her master would tell her what she needed to know when she needed to know.

The night of the asteroid shower had brought changes to Morrigana’s master; no more random cruelty, more openness, and a heretofore unseen glint in his crimson eyes.

His personality change had confused the hybrid at first, but she quickly adapted. Morri trusted him more and more, had less reason to be sad or fear her captivity.

Alzair opened a door at the end of the corridor and pulled her through with a low growl. Morrigana reeled at first, caught off guard by sensory onslaught.

Incense created a haze, diffusing the many candles, giving the room a dream quality. Over thirty feet to a side, the room was taken up by curtains and equipment racks and wooden furnishings, but mostly by a massive bed in the very center.

Soft whispers crawled along her nerves, barely audible, tantalizing her brain, begging her to listen and give herself over. Morri swooned briefly, the soothing yet biting tones hearkening to the dragon side of her soul.

Alzair held her up, wrapping arms around her waist from behind. “My lady likes the blood room?”

Resting her head back against his shoulder, Morrigana trembled as she recognized the sanguine scent at last. “It’s a bit...” Her voice trailed off as the whispers implored her to give in, to open herself to her master.

“Isn’t it, though?” He purred, guiding her to the bed. The half-dragon struggled to keep her eyes open, to not collapse in a heap of pleasure. “The intoxicants in the incense can strike hard against first time imbibers.”

Morrigana allowed herself to be laid out on the edge of the bed, too euphoric and relaxed to want to move. “You’re talking the same as them.” The young woman smirked at her captor.

The albino smiled seductively, stroking her thighs. He remained standing, the bed coming to his hips. The perfect height for fucking, Morrigana thought. When the implication of her observation sank in, the girl blushed.

Alzair was very aware of her emotions, and his smile deepened. Morri barely suppressed a smile when he stepped back. “This is the language of lovers. Of sex games and secret liaisons.” He began removing his vest. “And the long forgotten language of the dragon riders.”

Morrigana sat up straight, staring at him with blurry vision. “Are you comparing riding a dragon to having sex?” The hybrid was caught in a temperature spike and barely finished her question. She swayed, but remained upright.

Alzair darted forward to whisper in her ear. “I ride a dragon every time we have sex.”

Pride and ire rose within her, and Morrigana growled, snapping at Lord Shalafae. He narrowly dodged her clicking teeth. The whispers grew quiet momentarily, and anger cleared her head. “We are more than just your pets or transport.”

Her master remained close while he resumed disrobing. “To be certain.” Alzair’s voice dropped an entire register when using the rider language. Morri had never learned it, yet she understood clearly the sharp syllables and dropping susserations. “To ride a dragon is akin to seducing the most untouchable of ladies. Everyone wants to do it, few will attempt it, and only the very privileged will succeed.”

Morrigana swung her legs over the edge of the bed, trying to regain control of her reactions. When had she become so aroused? “Other than when we fuck, have you ever ridden a dragon?” A few weeks of not being tortured had taken much of the girl’s obsequiousness.

Alzair seemed to appreciate the challenge in her tone and attitude. He stood before her in only pants and boots, hands on his hips as he stared down at her. Scars crisscrossed his lean torso, like chalk on bone, giving hints to all he had experienced. The scars nearly glowed in the candlelight, drawing Morri’s attention for the first time.

“I was the last dragon rider,” her master said softly. The purr of his voice sent a shiver up her spine, and she closed her eyes. “The secret has been lost, and none would dare try to master a dragon.”

She sneered, trying to prevent her anger from fading. “Except you.”

Alzair cupped her cheeks, bending until their lips almost met. Morrigana moaned as he replied. “I earned my scars and the reins. There is no try when it comes to me. I have already mastered dragons.”

His hands slipped to the back of her head, and his nails dug into delicate skin on either side of the atlas vertebra. Morri stiffened momentarily, then was awash in silver waves of submission. Her body temperature dropped, her energy channels stilled, and she opened herself up to her master.

“Do you feel it this time?” Alzair asked. The albino Sidhehan wedged between her thighs, pressing harder on the same spot. The hybrid whimpered and tried to offer herself to him.

He made an appreciative sound, breathing in her scent. “It appears you do.”

“What is this?” she managed to get out between whimpers. Morrigana wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, wanting to draw Alzair deep into herself.

He shifted his grip on her head, nails finding new positions farther down her neck. “Just a little understood pressure point unique to only a few races.” The lover’s language crawled over her skin, making every hair stand on end. “I’ve never used it strongly with you, not needing much more than a tender nip to make you submit.”

Morrigana sighed with relief when his teeth found her neck. All she needed was to be taken, for him to have everything about her. Alzair thrust his groin at her, and she wanted to be naked and pierced by him.

“Oh my. I should have pressed your limits years ago.”

“Master, have me,” came her breathless offer. “All of me. Please, it’s yours.” Every cell in

Morri’s body begged to be his victim.

Alzair flicked his tongue across her earlobe. “That’s exactly why I’ve brought you here.” The hybrid shivered in delight as he ran hands up her arms. “You shall be reminded who is in charge.” He nipped her neck. “I will not be soft. You will be hurt.” She turned her head, arching against his mouth. “You will love every moment of it.”

Her only answer was a stuttering whimper. Her master laughed, then began addressing. “Let the games begin.”