Dance of the Dragons
Gloria looked down at the gauntlets in the drawer as Raul lifted out a pistol with a silencer. The talons were like nothing she’d seen before. They retracted over fingertips covered with what looked like black iridescent dragon scales. She slipped one on and splayed her fingers in attack mode. The talons snapped forward, and she felt a small ultrasonic vibration in her hand. The claws came to a needle-sharp point with serrated edges on the inside curve.
Gloria grabbed the bedpost and squeezed. The talons buzzed and sliced into the hardwood like butter. She turned to the dresser mirror and dragged her claws across the mirror cutting deep grooves across the surface of her reflection as powdered glass cascaded to the dresser’s polished surface.
“These will do well, I believe,” Gloria said as she noticed the scales were lightweight but resisted penetration by the talon tips. “They’re armored too.”
Raul set the pistol and extra magazines down on the nightstand and picked up a pair of scaled leggings. “These must be for you,” he said, handing the micro-scaled pants to Gloria. She opened the top band and looked at the stamp on the inside.
“XM-58. These are experimental.” Gloria’s voice had an echo of concern. She hated testing some good idea fairy’s dream weapon in combat for the first time. Too much could go wrong.
“What were the models we used on the beach?” Raul queried Gloria
“Ours were M-48’s. These are from the research lab on the west coast of America,” Gloria said. Gifts from Peter,” she added.
“What, my love?” Raul asked as he admired the sleek fit with clawed toes on Gloria’s legs.
“Nothing Dear, I was just admiring the leggings. They appear to be squat proof too, she added, playfully showing Raul. After we play a bit, what do you say we shower and call it a night. Tomorrow is a long day.” Gloria struck the headboard with her toe talons and ripped out a chunk of wood, scattering pieces across the bed.
Gloria removed her gauntlets and leggings as she looked at Raul, winked, and made a little alto growl that sounded somewhere between the deep hunger and insatiable lust of a Dragon predator. The pleasing sound caught Raul’s enamored attention.
They walked toward the bathroom. Gloria shed her top; her nakedness glowed in the dark room attracting Raul to her side. Raul threw his clothes in a wad on the bed, grabbed Gloria, lifted her in the air, and swung her around. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs jutted out like the boom of a sailboat as they pretended to waltz their way to the shower. The door closed to muted laughter. Raul came back out, grabbed the pistol, and hurried back in.
* * *
The dark room was quiet as a crypt. An old street lamp created a soft yellow light that reached through the curtains, across the bed, illuminating sangria nipples perched on milk white breasts that rose and fell to quickened breaths. A stream of dust swirled in the light and danced over the sensuous curves animated below.
Gloria, unable to sleep, turned her head and looked at the dark figure that sat motionless in the chair across from her hidden in the shadows. She eased the sheet off her waist and drew her knees up and let them fall away from the sides of her hips like the wings of a butterfly. Restless boredom fluttered in the wings.
The dark figure moved in the shadows; Gloria heard her lover speak in a whisper.
“Yes, my love.”
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable watching the door from here?” Gloria ran her hands down the insides of her legs and up again to her breasts offering herself to her Dragon. Her skin pebbled in the pale light at the welcomed thought of his touch.
Raul sat down beside Gloria. His hand chased her fingers across inviting thighs to the manicured hair between her legs and further across her quivering stomach to firm breasts, then chin, her pouting lips, and flushed cheeks. He ventured his thumb between parted teeth and felt the light flicker of a tongue. Darkness emboldened his imagination.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face and kissed the warm mouth waiting in the dark.
The swirling dust lifted like the smoke of incense, a Moroccan belly dancer writhed above their mingled bodies and mixed with the honeyed musk of Gloria’s tingling skin.
“Make love to me again.” Her entreaty for love was thick with desire, a divulgence with a hint of impatience and need. Perhaps it was their last night together. She hoped not.
“I adore how you always think of my comfort, Love,” came the reply that warmed the curve of her neck.
“Come to me and tell me about our upcoming cruise on that beautiful ship of yours.”
Gloria reached up and ran her fingers along Raul’s side as he loomed over her. Raul eased himself between her waiting legs. His enthrall was evident as he settled over her. She explored his chest with her erect nipples masquerading as sensitive fingertips seeking pleasure. The exhaust of his breath came quicker.
Her eyes shut tight as she felt the dense muscles of his chest play across her breasts. She loved how he showed his desire for her. She reveled in her power to drive him to a frenzy with her body. Gloria offered her neck as his lips sought her nape and shoulder.
Shifting in a game of hide and seek, Gloria arched her back with her head hanging over the edge of the bed, hair spilling like a waterfall toward the floor as the Dragon’s beard tickled her. Eager lips rode on a warm blanket of breath. The Dragon played with the ridge of her collarbone and moved to the root of her breast. The fine hair on Gloria’s arms and neck lifted. Tiny cilia on her legs stiffened as she ran her fingertips across her man’s back.
“Tell me where we will go on this cruise.” Gloria’s long fingers measured the ripples of his stomach, reaching lower and feeling him grow harder in her teasing fingers.
“We’ll cruise across the Black Sea and back through the Bosphorus Strait to the sunny islands of Southern Greece.” He kissed her breast to punctuate his baritone soliloquy. She pressed herself to his mouth, held his head to her, and sighed as he sought to please her.
“We’ll swim in the clear blue waters during the day, drink our coffee at sunset on the aft deck, and make love on a rocking sea until sleep robs us of further sin.”
Gloria lifted her head and shoulders, gripping the back of his arms as his kisses moved down from her breasts to her stomach in a meandering stroll. Her knees lifted and separated wider to engulf her Dragon, a sacred offering without provocation of thought.
“Oh, baby, where will we go next?” Gloria’s husky intonation quickened Raul’s heart beat.
“Next is Malta, my dear; off the coast of Sicily where we’ll resupply and eat fresh seafood outside at the shoreline cafes and drink sweet wine between walks on the beach. We’ll make love in the warm sugar sand and let the slack tide waters cleanse the dirt from our soul.” His deep voice held a soft, reverent tone; a susurration of voices in a cathedral. He spoke like reciting poetry, interpreting their shared dream of getting away from the deprivation of duty and war.
Raul’s hands moved across her body like a island breeze creating waves of pleasure that mingled with Goria’s vision of her and Raul entwined on the sunny beach.
“Go on, please go on,” Gloria now pleaded with her Dragon lover.
Raul spoke in hushed, halting words as he drew invisible messages of adoration on the inside of Gloria’s thighs continuing his tale of their future.
“I think we’ll sail to the south of France, to Monaco and take in the sights there. We’ll dress up; you in your red silk evening dress with Dragon Brocade flowing in the offshore breeze at night and me in my black tuxedo with long tails and satin lapel. We’ll dine in fine restaurants on French cuisine and attend the theater. I want you to pleasure me in the dark of the theater, and later, I’ll punish your lack of public decorum with my wild passion. I’m afraid I may ruin your dress. An afterthought followed. Best you make sure it comes off easily in case we don’t make it back to the hotel.”
Gloria placed her hands on his head, lifted her hips and impatiently urged him to her. He tortured her with his slow and gentle caress as he filled her mind with dreams she couldn’t wait to live out. “Oh!” She exclaimed as the broad flat of his tongue found her on the way up and over.
“Yes there, stay please, stay there.”
“In Monaco, my dear?”
“Yes. Stay,” Gloria commanded in a way that sounded more like a plea.
He soothed her need and placated her want. Gloria felt herself coming apart against his relentless legato search across her body with his love making.
An enlivened Gloria wound her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. Every muscle in her body tensed drawing her into a knot. She guided him, held him there, right there, that spot that made her thighs tremble, and her throat lock tight against the strained breath rushing from her lungs.
Toes, of their own accord, contracted like clenched fists as she let go in a fit of tortured gratification. Gloria heard the sound of her breath rushing out through her mouth in a staccato hum. She was drowning in the waves that washed her away from the steel moorings of her emotions.
Gloria awakened from the exodus of release, her eyes and mouth opened wide and choked a cry in her throat as she felt him enter her. A gasp escaped her lips. Her hips moved to better accommodate her Dragon’s probing advance.
Raul covered Gloria’s lips, her neck, the ear, a shoulder, and back to the neck with growing passion. Eye to eye, mouth to mouth, a sweet musk filled the air. Sweat glistening in the pale light increased the drug of indulgence as skin and rippled muscle slipped recklessly across undulating curves and bone.
The ship’s Captain groaned as Gloria’s thighs tightened around his waist. She purred a gritty murmur as he forced her back down on the scattered sheets. Large hands grabbed Gloria with frantic intent behind the knees, and pressed her legs back toward her head. Pinned under her Dragon, Gloria surrendered to his overpowering drive toward their shared ecstasy.
Eventually, the lovers collapsed on one another and held on unable to speak and unwilling to let go as they drifted in their mutual fugue of lust and love. The sounds of felicity, her alto and his bass, settled under lips teasing damp skin. The writhing grind of bodies stilled.
Headlights from a distance reached through the curtains illuminating the smoky dust in the room. The tiny particles of light sailed in the unseen currents of past movement and body heat. Stillness below collapsed the meandering ghost of light and the spirit of the room cascaded down like the last shuddering breath of a dying gazelle frozen in the lion’s maw. Gloria slept like dead. Raul panted at her side, the lion fully sated.