Praxigor lets me down. “Interesting fight.”
My heart is beating hard and fast. “Maybe her kind is used to fighting those things.”
The dragon straightens his pants. “At any rate, you chose your companion wisely.”
I adjust my own clothing, fighting with the ripped chest flap that keeps making me spill out.
It takes me a moment for his words to sink in. “Did you just say somethingniceto me?”
He shrugs his massive shoulders. “Just pointing out a fact. Don’t get used to it.”
“I think you’re a big softie,” I tell him, giddy from excitement and relief from escaping that pack. “You made sure I didn’t get bitten. And you wanted to get me away from the fight and into that tube.”
“Indeed I’d prefer to not be smeared and sprayed with your blood,” he growls. “Are you sure that makes me soft?”
“Uh-huh. So some of us don’t mind that a deadly monster like you has a different side. I mean ‘monster’ in the most terrifying way, of course. It makes you seem even scarier.” I think I knowhow he likes to be seen now. And in a way, what I said is not wrong. Because while it’s impossible to fall for someone who’s just teeth and scales, someone who also has a different side can be downright loveable. That in itself could be really scary.
“Oh?” he smirks. “By that reasoning, you like scary monsters.”
“Just one. And I know how hard and scary that monster can get.” I glance at his crotch.
His eyes flash dangerously. “Believe me when I say that you don’t know the first thing about that.”
“Then maybe show me?” I’m letting my instincts take control again. I guess that’s one thing this planet does — it strips away all the pretense of civilization and shows you exactly who you are deep down. As it turns out, I’m either really scared or really aroused. And those two things are much closer together than I thought, with a very fuzzy division between them.
“I can’t show you in this pitiful form,” he growls. “It isthatwhich is soft, notme. It’s notme!” He claws at his scales as if he wants to tear them off.
“Try,” I urge him, a wave of pity washing through me. He’s in pain and barely keeping it together. I want to help. “Try to show me. Without killing me,” I add as I reach out with one hand to lightly touch the scales at his chest. “Even like this, you’re about as hard as I can take it.”
“It won’t kill you,” he assures me. “And even if it did, can you imagine a better way to go?”
“No,” I confess. “So may I see? You’ve seen me. All over. Everything.” I notice his bulge twitching in his silvery pants.
“So eager,” he chuckles. “You may see. But you must also keep in mind that what gets revealed must also get used.” He puts a hand on his hip and looks down at me with amused challenge in his eyes.
I reach over and stroke the edge of his pants. It’s not really a fabric, but not really plastic either. Or any material I know. The closest would be some kind of metal weave, but it’s warm to the touch and has a very fine mesh. “I don’t know how to open this.”
He strokes his hand past the middle of the waistband and it opens smoothly. “It’s not very hard.”
I take in his bulge. “Looks plenty hard to me.”
“Turning my words back against me,” he rumbles.
There’s a split down the middle of the fabric that opens longer when I pull at the sides, revealing more and more of his blue skin-slash-scales. “It’s a habit. I mean no disrespect.”
“Of course,” he says benevolently.
His alien cock pops out of the pants and stands skywards, straight and powerful. It’s blue, of course, and there are small, smooth scales with rounded edges. The shape is just as alien and threatening as the rest of him, and it’s big. But not impossibly so, and where I half expected to see sharp spikes, there are only a circle of small, round protrusions that look like they’d hit the right spot.
My insides clench at the sight. “Nothing soft about this.”
“Nor about any of me,” he growls as he comes in close and puts a finger under my chin, forcing me to look up. He bends down and kisses me, soft and warm, but tense and with more of a needbehind it now than ever before. That suits me perfectly — I have a craving in me that only he can satisfy.
“Show me,” I repeat, looking into his eyes and nearly forgetting to breathe.
He grabs my breast again, squeezing greedily. With his other hand, he hooks one claw under the hem of my dress and lifts it. “You should be bare for me.”
Having nothing to hide from him except something hidden in the dress, I quickly pull it off me and drop it to the ground. “I should.”