ASHTAR

I remember the best day of my life fondly.

I had recently been sold to a new master, a connoisseur of fighting slaves. It was an honor to be in his stable, and when an opponent heard you were one of Natu's fighters, it put fear into them. Our fights were always sold-out spectacles. That meant Natu had to be pleased with your performance or you would be cut quickly and sold off to someone else.

Natu liked me, but he said I needed work. That I was too arrogant and too dependent on my battle form to win matches. My shifts to dragon form should be a surprise in battle, a constant unknown, but that I should focus on real strength and my human form to be just as powerful, as fast, and as strong. He did not want me to be weak in one form and strong in the other or I was useless to him.

The evening before my biggest match—a fight to the death—he collared me a second time. My first collar was a constant companion, a combination of shock collar to keep me docile and neutralizer that would stop any telepathic communication. It was made of flexipose, which was a metallic-like substance that could shift and bend with the wearer, so even when I switched to battle form, it adjusted with me. The second collar he put on me was a plain iron ring, but I knew what it was for. If I shifted, it wouldn't. If I tried to switch to drakoni form, I'd behead myself.

For this match, I'd have to do it in two-legged form.

At the time, I was arrogant. I thought I would have it handled and Natu would be impressed. Once I got into the arena, I realized I'd miscalculated badly. My opponent was half Graxiian, a heavy-gravity people known for rock-hard skin, weighty bones, and a general difficulty to kill. This one was also surprisingly fast despite his bulky form. I remember being shocked by that.

I also remember thinking ten minutes later, as the fight continued and his fists broke bones and smashed into my limbs, that I was outclassed. My fangs and claws did nothing to him, and neither did my fire. I remember knowing with certainty that I would die that day, but not giving up. If I was going to die, I was going to give the audience a hell of a show. So I did everything I could to outsmart my opponent. I let him tackle me so I could get close enough to blow fire into his vulnerable eyes. I used discarded slave chains from our entrance into the arena to choke him and trip him. And when my strength was fading, I noticed he had a tell that I would have never seen if I was in battle form. That my half-Graxiian opponent shielded his ankles whenever I attacked.

I remember the fierce elation at that realization. How it gave me the strength to pick my broken, battered body off of the ground and continue fighting. I attacked his ankles with my claws and discovered soft flesh from an old wound that went deep and tore far too easily. My bulky, fierce opponent toppled forward onto his face—and I flung myself on his back and ground his flat, ugly face into the sands of the arena until the breath choked out of him.

Then, I stood up over his dead body and flung my arms out, triumphant. The crowd roared so loudly and stomped their feet so wildly I felt as if the entire universe must have heard my triumph. I remember Natu nodding, pleased. I remember the adrenaline and power—and sheer joy—that coursed through me in that moment as the arena screamed my name.

That was an amazing moment…and yet it is nothing compared to the feeling of possessing my Veronica. Of my cock deep inside her clenching body, my fires flooding through her veins. She has fallen unconscious temporarily, so I lick and nuzzle my bite at her throat, my body seated to the hilt inside her still.

I wait, feeling the glory of her mind as it slowly opens to mine. It has been so long since I have spoken to anyone with a mind-link that I do not recognize it at first. Her thoughts slowly filter into mine, though, and with it comes intense pleasure. Her sleeping thoughts drift lazily back and forth, thinking of me, of how happy I make her, how much she wants to touch me. What our child will look like.

I groan as her thoughts grow louder and louder, until the mental connection between us is as strong as a speaking voice. I close my eyes, savoring it.

I did not realize how much of who I am felt cut away until it was restored. Slavers have no use for telepaths, and the ability has been throttled in one way or another ever since I was enslaved at the age of eight. When I arrived here, uncollared, it returned, only to find I had no one to talk to. Now that a link has been established, I feel…whole.

I also feel surprisingly like weeping, except that is a human reaction, not a drakoni one. Still, the knot of emotion in my throat is as real as anything.

My Ashtar, my mate sighs in her sleep, and pleasure ripples through her thoughts even as her body shifts against me.

Here, I tell her, licking the bite on her neck again. Always right here.

There's a hint of surprise in her mind, and then the dream-fog clears away and her eyes flutter open. She moans low, and I can feel her body responding to mine. How intense it feels for her to wake up and realize I'm still buried deep in her cunt, filling her. Oh my god, she thinks. He feels so… Her thought breaks off into a bone-deep shudder. "Was I asleep for long?"

Not long, I tell her, and gently lick her throat again. How do you feel?

"Fine, I think." She frowns a little. "Head hurts a bit."

Because of my thoughts?

Realization dawns on her as she grasps that I'm talking to her without moving my lips. Oh.

Should I stop?

No, I…I like it. Another full body shiver moves through her, and she's thinking of my cock, filling her up so deep. I'm still getting used to…everything.

I slide my hand down her arm, caressing her. Do I feel too hot against your skin?

Too hot? No, you feel good. She trembles again, as if another orgasm is racing close to climax. Really good. Did you come? She thinks of our joined bodies but doesn't feel the wet stickiness that comes with my spend.

Not yet, I reassure her. I had to wait.

For what?

For your body to be ready. I glide my claws lightly over her tender skin. For you to be able to take my seed. You have to have my fires, first, or I would burn your womb.

So you've just been…waiting? She thinks of me and my hard cock, my body pressing over hers and invading her in every way. A little moan escapes her throat. Isn't that hard?

Very. I send her a flurry of images of just how deep and forcefully I want to thrust into her, and her cunt tightens around me with pleasure. But you are worth waiting for.

Veronica moans aloud again. Can we start? Are you ready?

I have waited a lifetime to be ready. I press my back against her as we lie, side by side, and nip lightly at the bit of shoulder revealed to me. Her tunic is still bunched up past her breasts, and I remember the way she teased them earlier. It is my turn now. I reach forward, caressing the tips, and her cunt shudders around my cock. She lets out a soft cry, closing her eyes and pushing back against me, as if she can work my cock deeper into her body.

My glorious, beautiful Veronica.

I tease the tips of her breasts, caressing and flicking until they are hard and aching. I love our mental connection, because now I can feel which touches make her react deep inside, and where she wants my hands next. I coax her breasts until they are aching and she's so aroused that she's rubbing back against me, little whimpers escaping her as I nibble at her throat and send a barrage of mental images of my mouth on her nipples.

Veronica moans, rocking her hips back against mine. "Please, Ashtar." And then I hear it in her thoughts. Please, my love.

Already she has learned how to tease me best. My resolve to take her slowly and tenderly dissolves to dust, and with a growl in my throat, I pump into her. She cries out with joy, and I can feel her pleasure exploding through her mind. Our prior touches feel like a pale shadow compared to how it is now, with our minds linked. The joy is exquisite, and I cannot stop myself as I thrust into her, hard and rough.

I can tell—I can feel—that she loves every surge into her. Her cunt grips me tight, and within moments, she's quaking, on the verge of a climax. Close, but not quite, and I'm shocked when she sends me a mental image of my hand between her thighs as I pump into her. She's telling me what she wants. Carefully, mindful of the sharpness of my talons, I lightly caress her clit even as I thrust into her.

She comes with a cry, the inner walls of her cunt squeezing my cock so tight and so pleasurably that it sends me over as well. I pound into her soft body, unable to stop myself as I empty my seed into her warmth. My heat floods into her, and I can sense the surprise of her response and the gentle pleasure she feels as I come. She didn't expect to feel my release, not like that.

I bury my face against her hair, shuddering with the force of my release. I clench her tight against me, because I never want to let her go ever again. My mate.

I'm here, she tells me softly. I love you.

In this moment, I know complete and utter joy.