#dragonfucking

She was hallucinating. Surely, Violet was hallucinating, because there was no way Tairn, a dragon considered retired—the ruthless, cunning, and frankly gigantic black morningstartail—had chosen the smallest, frailest cadet in the quadrant as his rider. His last rider, if Kaori was right. 

“Get. On,” the black dragon growled, the orange and gold of the October woods shuddering with the strength of it.

“You don’t want me,” she stammered. “I’m too—”

“You will not insult me by questioning my selection. Get. On. I will not ask again.”

Right then.

Staring into those serpentine eyes, her fear was still near suffocating, but she managed to hobble over, assessing the best route to the seat, for lack of a better term. With only smooth scale and a long ridge of spikes before her—not to mention the height of him alone—it seemed a near impossible feat. She couldn’t very well mount him with a dagger as she had the gauntlet.

“No,” the black grumbled. “You most certainly will not.” Her brows were nearly level with her hairline as she watched him stretch his foreleg, the new angle steep, but manageable. A ramp. An accommodation. Perhaps the first she’d been gifted since crossing the parapet. “The accommodation, Silver One, is to avoid any pointless stabbing. Now mount. There is still one thing to complete before you meet the role keeper.”

Seating herself above his wings, she slowly wrapped her hands around the pommel and clenched down with her thighs, just as they’d been taught to do with Kaori’s training models.

Her first launch sent her heart straight to her throat, her body locking with a prayer she could hold her seat. He leveled quickly to her relief. Perhaps she wasn’t going to fall to her death on the flight to wherever he needed to take her before recording their bond. Deeper into the woods it seemed, and down into a clearing no more than a few miles from where he found her, what was left of the flowers trampled under the—her dragon’s weight.

The next time he spoke to here there was a bit more patience in his tone. An introduction at last. “My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, decended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.” A pause then, long enough she found herself squirming in the seat. “But I’m not going to assume that you’ll be able to remember that once we reach the field, so Tairn will do until I inevitably have to remind you.”

He sank down for the second time with a short order to dismount. “You said there was something left to do before we go to the flight field.”

“Yes,” he confirmed, eyes narrowing as he assessed her limp. “I do not believe your injuries will present an obstacle.”

Her injuries often presented an obstacle, but she wasn’t about to confess that to her dragon. Show no weakness. That was the rule of things, wasn’t it? Then again, what could she truly hide with him always in her head now? “You’re learning. Good.”

Violet rolled her eyes, but gave no retort, waiting for Tairn to explain why he’d flown them off to some secluded meadow instead of straight to the flight field for the role keeper and leadership to receive them. None of the older members of their wing had suggested a detour in these past few months of training, but she didn’t imagine there was some great secret to Threshing.

“You will undress.”

She snapped her head back to Tairn, jaw slackening. “Excuse me?”

“The early weeks of a bond have a frailty to them. I intend to… fast-track it’s security, as you humans say. Not only will our bond solidify sooner than those who do not claim their humans physically—”

She shivered at the unabashed declaration her dragon had made. “—but your strength and progress channeling will surpass your peers who were not claimed. For whatever reason, the younger generations among our kind think the act to be inappropriate. One can only hope they learn from that misconception.”

“You want to—I’m a human. You’re a dragon!”

“I have not lived this long unaware of my species, Silver One,” he growled. “Enough stalling. You will undress.”

“But—”

“And you will trust me.” Violet nodded, bringing her hands behind her back to start working the laces of the corset before freezing. Her dragon may be a demanding grouch, but surely he’d understand her wanting to scan the clearing for unwanted attention. “You will trust me,” Tairn repeated. “There isn’t another human present for miles and even the young dragons are not foolish enough to intrude if they come across a pair bonding.”

He didn’t order her to hurry along again, but it was clear the fragile thread of his patience would only last so long. Taking one last deep breath, she stripped out of her leathers, bracing against the chill with the loss of her winter-weight tunic. It took only seconds for Tairn’s claws to lock around her bare torso, drawing her close enough for the fire within him and the shelter of one great wing to eliminate nature’s cold bite.

It didn’t escape her notice the grip of his claws also left her immobilized, even if they were loose enough he wouldn’t break skin. “Tairn.”

“Relax, Silver One. The process will not harm you, no matter how breakable you may think yourself.” Her bare back met the dewy grass and she stiffened, unable to keep her eyes from moving down to the scaled length slowly revealing itself from it’s protective sheath. Even if she wasn’t the smallest in the quadrant, no human would be able to have that inside of them. “You will be prepared,” he told her, entirely unbothered by her panic. “You will not resist.”

Eyes shut tight, she braced for the intrusion, letting out a yelp when his tongue, dry and almost chaffing dragged up her thighs and over her belly. It lacked all the precision of a humans touch, yes, but there was something almost comforting in the need it brought to the surface. She would be bound to this dragon for the rest of her life. He would be a perminent resident in her mind, the source of her power. The one witness to her every success and failing. This claiming … Well, what could really be considered so wrong about it?

There was a low rumbling in her mind—a sound she might consider as one of approval—before the claws around her tightened ever so slightly, drawing her full attention to the sensation around her. The heat of Tairn’s scales, scattered points of her body made more sensitive by the roughness of his tongue. Most importantly, the fresh slickness between her thighs and the mental urge to part them further. To make room for the monstrosity That was fully presented at last. “You will trust me, Violet Sorrengail.”

She nodded, every muscle wound tight enough to snap as Tairn eased into her, pushing as deep as he could without causing her harm. Unfortunately, the smooth scales were only a small mercy. The challenge beyond the sheer stretch had to do with the shape of him. Slick as she was, Violet still felt every ridge down his length through the penetration, dragging across her sensitive flesh.

He stilled above her, but there was no denying the overwhelming heat. The painful stretch of him. The feeling of too much at once—all of it an onslaught to her senses and emotions. She screamed beneath him, tearing up clumps of the grass beneath her with no other outlet as his voice filled her mind once again. Not angry, but the disappointment was almost worse. “You will cease this nonsensical fit. You will accept your claiming like the rider I know you are.”

“Tairn, please!”

He remained silent. Remained still, too. Waiting for her to master herself. Gradually, she managed to adjust, unballed her fists and rested one hand over a single talon. He took that as permission to continue, rocking in slow, measured strokes that allowed him to fully carve out his place inside her. As if it was natural. As if it was where he belonged. At that point there was no denying the shift in her. She was soaked, one needy whine bleeding into the next as her hips tilted the little they could. Little by little, agonizingly slow, the hot pressure began to build inside her. “Gods,” she gasped, feeling her control slipping away again, this time in an entirely different direction.

“You are allowed to find pleasure in this, Silver One. You should find pleasure in it.”

“Tairn.” She knew he could hear it. The plea beneath the consuming confusion. The hope beneath the storm of doubt.

“Come,” he ordered sharply. And she was in freefall, her next scream drowned out in the earth-shaking roar of her dragon as he spilled inside of her, a second set of black claws carving into the dirt a few yards past her head. There was a rush of something through their mental bond—garbled satisfaction that she doubted was meant to be anything resembling a human language. She didn’t try to assess it further because, gods, he was still moving inside her, pushing her into a second orgasm as he continued to fill her. The third brought her to tears, her pleasure morphing into something sharper that had her squirming beneath him once again.

“Tairn, I can’t—” 

But he was already easing out of her, retreating enough that the cool kiss of the autumn wind could dry the sweat coating her skin. The immediate shock of cold between her legs was less of a relief. Sensing her discomfort, Tairn once again wrapped her in the dark cacoon of his wing. “You have a few moments to rest. Then you will dress for our first true flight as a bonded pair.”

She sighed, eyes sliding shut as she leaned into his warmth, for the first time choosing to speak through her mind alone. “You chose me.”