Debbie

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As the last crimson sliver of the sun sank behind the delicate spires of the castle, Debbie hoped the wedding party would finally, finally be over...

...and the wedding night would begin.

Just the thought sent delicious shivers through her belly—and lower down. No more virginity! And, more importantly, at last she and Victor would be one. He had such strong-looking hands. She couldn’t wait to have them all over her. And not just his hands. She’d seen that bulge in his wedding pants. She couldn’t wait to have that—

“A toast!” a wedding guest roared.

“A toast to the wedding night!” shouted another.

“A toast to the dragon’s babies!” yelled a woman.

The crowd erupted in shouts of “to babies!” “to the wedding night!” and a drunken bellow of “TO HUGE HARD HOT DRAGON COCK!” The last one was quickly stifled, to Debbie’s infinite relief. Then, as one, the crowd began to chant, “A toast! A toast! A toast!”

Victor caught Debbie’s hand and led her back to the platform they’d been married on. The Lord Chamberlain handed them each a fluted glass of delicate crystal, which Aunt Agatha filled from a bottle with a yellowed hand-written label.

The stuff she poured flowed from bottle to glass in orange-red ripples, more like a flame than a liquid. It continued roiling of its own accord in the glasses, seething and sending up wisps of smoke.

Debbie didn’t dare ask what it was, in case she was supposed to already know. The intoxicating scent that rose from it told her anyway: it was like the aroma of the forbidden fruits, but alcoholic. It made her senses reel even before she’d tasted it.

“Follow me,” said Victor softly, then raised his glass. Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the crowd, he said, “To the union of two royal lines!”

“To the union of two royal lines,” repeated Debbie, feeling mildly guilty over the lie.

Victor took a drink, and Debbie followed. The liquor burned its way down her throat, filling her mouth with a sweet tang that somehow also tasted of fire itself. When she swallowed it, her entire body flushed hot. Her need for Victor, which had been simmering just below the skin all day, became even more intense. She’d gotten damp between the legs just from standing next to him; now she was suddenly outright wet.

Victor took a shaky breath. His skin was slightly flushed, and there was a mist of sweat on his forehead. She hoped he too was thinking of ripping off clothes.

“To our children to come,” he said.

“To our children to come,” repeated Debbie.

They drank again. The sensation of heat and longing redoubled.

“To the marriage bed,” said Victor, and drained the glass.

“To the marriage bed,” said Debbie, and followed suit.

If we don’t get to that damn bed soon, I’m going to start ripping his clothes off in public. Or mine...

“Bed her!” chanted the crowd. “Bed! Bed! Bed!”

Victor swept Debbie off her feet and into his arms. She let out a squeak of surprise. Then he was marching her, veil and diamond shoes and crystal glass and all, off the platform and through the crowd. Wild cheers and shouts of “bed!” erupted all around them as Victor made his way through the garden and into the palace.

She expected him to put her down once they were inside, but he kept carrying her.

He’s so strong, she thought, dazed.

He showed no signs of tiring as he walked down the corridors and up a grand flight of marble stairs. There a pair of guards opened a set of double doors, then closed them behind him.

At last, they were in the bedroom.

Debbie only had time to take in that, though appropriately princely, it was less lavish and more masculine than the bedroom she’d slept in before, when she was suddenly tumbled on to an extremely large and soft bed.

“Finally,” she said. The word came out almost comically heartfelt.

Victor smiled. “My feeling exactly.”

There was a long, charged silence as she lay on her back looking up at him, and he stood over her. She felt as helpless to resist him as if he was that golden dragon, and she the woman held in his claws.

Except, of course, she had no desire to resist.

She could hear his breathing in the quiet room.  When she remembered that she was still clutching the crystal glass and put it on a side table, it made a startlingly loud clink.

“That was forbidden fruit liquor, wasn’t it?” she asked.

Victor nodded. “It’s called dragonfire. And it’s worth its weight in gold.”

The phrase made her remember Aunt Agatha’s warning. She’d kept it to herself all this time. Maybe that was why the marriage had felt so unreal: she’d been keeping a secret from Victor, when he’d kept nothing from her.

“There’s something I should tell you...” Debbie began. And told him everything.

Victor looked more and more angry as she went on. When she finished, he swore. “I should never have left you alone with Aunt Agatha.”

“You couldn’t have known what she’d say.”

“I should have guessed.” Victor shook his head. “Well, she’s wrong. Princess Eugenia won’t be back. And it doesn’t matter if she does return. You are my wife. I meant what I said: if it takes giving up the throne to be with you, I will give up the throne.”

“I believe you.” And this time, at last, she did believe him.

“I’m glad you told me. Now we have nothing hanging over us. This is not a time when we should be distracted.”

She lay still and watched as, with infinite care and sensuality, he began to strip her with his long clever fingers. First he removed her veil and set it aside. Then her crown. Then, one by one as she lay trembling with desire, the roses in her hair. He followed them by the jeweled combs holding her hair in place. Freed, it tumbled around her face.

But after he removed her dainty jeweled shoes and her silk stockings, there was nothing left to remove but her gown and underclothes. Remembering her final secrets, she held up a hand to stop him. “Wait...”

He tilted his head inquiringly. “Yes?”

“You remember that I’m a virgin, right?”

“Yes, I do. All those cloddish men in Boonville, of course you wouldn’t want to share with them the treasures of your body. Don’t worry. I will do my best to make your first time everything it should be.”

Debbie bit her lip nervously. “The treasures of my body... That’s the thing, Victor. There’s something about my body that’s not something anyone would treasure. You’re going to be the first man to ever see me naked, and there’s a reason for that.”

“I cannot imagine seeing your body as anything less than beautiful.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen it yet,” she muttered. Now that the pedal was to the metal and it was too late to back out, she was terrified at the thought of letting Victor see her. Oh, sure, he’d love her anyway. But she definitely looked better in clothes than out of them.

Victor was silent for a moment, frowning, then said, “Let me show you something.”

He stripped off his wedding clothes, efficiently and quickly rather than making a show of it. Soon he stood naked before her.

Debbie instantly forgot her self-consciousness. He was gorgeous. Tall, broad-shouldered, with rippling muscle everywhere she looked, complete with a perfect six-pack. His cock stood up big and hard, showing her just how much he wanted her. She wanted to yank him down on the bed right now.

Before she could, he turned around.

Debbie gasped. A jagged line of glittering gold slashed across his body from shoulder to hip, as if he’d been struck by lightning and it had left its imprint across his skin. It was strangely beautiful, but there was also something brutal and violent-looking about it.

“What is that?”

“My dragonmark.” Victor turned back around to face her. “All dragonshifters have marks on their bodies, glittering with the color of their dragon. Usually they look like tattoos or pretty patterns. Aunt Agatha’s circles her arm, like an armlet of hammered bronze. She says I’m the first person she’s ever heard of whose dragonmark looks like a scar.”

Debbie instantly sprang to his defense. “It’s beautiful! Just... startling.”

“Is it something you would treasure?”

“Of course!” Then she saw the path he was leading her down, and smiled despite herself. “Oh, all right. Go ahead. Undress me.”

Victor avidly took off her gown, then her bra and panties. At last he looked down at her as she lay naked and exposed on the bed. She followed his gaze to the ugly purple birthmark that marred her left shoulder.

“Not as pretty as yours,” she muttered.

“I. Do. Not. Care.” With each word, he kissed it. The heat of his mouth and tongue spread from her shoulder to her entire body, until she lay trembling, her nerves afire.

She was willing to let him do anything at all, at that moment. But instead of continuing to kiss her, he leaned over and unlocked a safe in the wall.

Debbie craned her head to look inside.

And gasped. The safe glowed with gold and glittered with jewels. Bedazzled, she saw gold coins, gold nuggets, silver boxes filled with sparkling diamonds, and more. Rubies and emeralds, pearls and sapphires, rings and necklaces and bracelets were piled deep. It was more treasure than she could even comprehend.

“My hoard,” said Victor. His eyes were gold as his coins, and gleamed with possessive desire. “Gold is very precious to a dragon—far more so than just its money equivalent. A dragon would never part with any item from his hoard... except to give to his true mate.”

He lifted a necklace from the safe. It was an exquisite piece of jewelry made of twisted golden ropes and threads, woven into a spider’s web that would drape across the upper chest of the wearer. Diamonds were scattered among the web in a seemingly random pattern, glittering like drops of dew.

“May I bedeck you?” Victor asked.

Debbie had always liked jewelry, but had never been able to afford anything but a few cheap trinkets. She’d never owned any gold. But this necklace was more than pretty, and more than expensive. It was a work of art. And a gift of love.

“Yes, please.” Her voice came out choked with emotion.

Victor tenderly placed the necklace around her neck and arranged it. Then he stood over her, looking down. The golden fire in his eyes made her feel like a scrap of paper in a bonfire—a scrap that couldn’t wait to go up in flames.

Her self-consciousness melted in the heat of her desire. She held up her hands to him. “Come on, Victor. I want you now!”

In a quick, graceful motion, he knelt atop her hips. “Before we begin... do you wish to get pregnant tonight?”

Debbie had to gather her thoughts. Finally, she shook her head. “No. Not tonight. I do want to have a family with you, but it’s such a big step. I’d like to just be married for a while first. So yeah, please use a condom.”

He smiled. “No need. Dragon shifters are only fertile when they will themselves to be.”

“Seriously?” But she already believed him. She’d felt his heat, seen the golden line like a lash across his back—seen him turn into a dragon! She knew he was different.

Victor nodded. “I won’t will it until you tell me to.”

Then he bent to her, his eyes glowing golden, and once again began to kiss her birthmark. But this time he didn’t stop there. He kissed and licked, caressed and stroked, nibbled and sucked every inch of her skin, slowly working his way downward. She caressed him in return, stroking his smooth skin and firm muscles, and running a finger along the glittering slash of his dragonmark.

Heat gathered between her legs, making her squirm and moan as she got wetter and wetter. She’d never imagined a man lavishing so much loving attention on her body. And it was attention. Victor was clearly tracking her every gasp and sigh, so he’d know what to do more of and where she was especially sensitive. The heat of his body made his every touch feel like a flame that burned without pain. It was pure bliss.

Why had she been so nervous about having sex? She’d been so sure she’d be awkward and do something wrong and turn off her partner. But now, feeling Victor’s hungry touch, she knew that nothing she could do would turn him off. And she no longer felt awkward. Everything felt easy and natural. All she had to do was listen to her own body, and do what it said.

Then he laid his mouth between her legs, and all thoughts vanished. She moaned, the pleasure of his hot tongue almost too much to bear. Debbie felt herself writhe against the mattress, her sensitive clit throbbing, as he lapped at it until she couldn’t hold out any longer. Her arousal built, peaked, and exploded.

Debbie came back to herself, gasping and trembling, in Victor’s arms.

Before she could feel self-conscious, he pushed back a lock of her damp hair. “You look beautiful.”

Overcome, she couldn’t reply. She kissed him instead. He responded passionately, pressing himself against her.

She felt his shaft, rock-hard against her body, and reached out for it. She’d never had her hand around a penis before. She’d expected it to feel hard, and it did, but she hadn’t realized it would be that hard. It felt like a rod of steel under her hand. A rod of steel covered in velvet-smooth flesh.

Debbie stroked her hand along it, and was both startled and delighted when Victor groaned. She hadn’t realized just how sensitive it was. Debbie tried again, a little harder, and made him gasp.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

In fact, she was a little nervous. He was so big! But she did want him, even if it hurt. She wanted to join their bodies together in the most intimate possible way.

She nodded.

He knelt over her, making her notice again how stunning he looked in the nude. Those hip muscles—those incredible abs—

He lowered himself to her, moving slowly and gently. The head of his cock stroked along her clit, making her arch and gasp. She knew he didn’t want to hurt her, but she no longer cared. She had to have him inside her, filling her up. Every fiber of her being longed for it.

“Come on, Victor,” she said. “I want you in me, now!”

He slid into her in a single graceful motion, her slick passage easing his way. She could feel herself stretched out. It burned a little, but not in a bad way. As he began to thrust, the burn faded and she began to enjoy the sensation. There was something deeply satisfying about having him inside her.

And it wasn’t just physical pleasure she felt. As she and Victor moved together, it was like when they’d danced together on the wedding floor: as if they were a single person in two bodies. She felt overwhelmed with love.

“This is you mean by mates,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Victor replied. “You’re mine. I’m yours. Forever.”

“Forever,” she echoed. “Oh—oh!”

A sudden wave of electric pleasure washed over her, so intense that she threw back her head and screamed. Before she closed her eyes, she saw Victor watching her, his golden eyes intent on her face. Then he let out a masculine growl as he too came. She could feel the hot jet of his seed within her, and it pushed her into yet another shattering orgasm.

Debbie floated on a cloud of bliss for a delicious eternity. Then she lay back in Victor’s arms, hot and sweaty and happier than she’d ever been in her life. No more virginity! Now she knew what all the fuss was about.

Even more importantly, Victor knew her secrets, and he didn’t hold them against her. He’d seen her birthmark, and he wasn’t repulsed. She’d told him she wasn’t ready to get pregnant yet, and rather than pressuring her, he’d simply asked her to tell him when she was. He was such a great guy. And she’d only had to travel halfway around the world to find him.

“What did I do to deserve you?” she murmured.

“All you ever had to do was be you.” He tenderly brushed a lock of damp hair from her face. “Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”

“We get a honeymoon?”

“We are married,” her husband pointed out.

Debbie thought about it for a moment, then laughed. “Paris, of course.”

“All expenses paid,” Victor said with a chuckle. “By me.”