Page 13 of Caveman Alien's Terror

“See that you do. I will soon check on your progress. And there better be some.” He seems to lose interest in me and starts drawing away.

“Praxigor!”

He’s half hidden behind a tree. “What is it now?”

“Forgive an ignorant alien woman, but you said you’re a dragon?”

He smiles. “Ah! That’s the correct tone to use. Perhaps you want to kneel, as well? No? All right, I’m feeling magnanimous. Yes, I said I’m a dragon. Surely you must have realized that before now?”

“I suspected,” I admit, “but I didn’t know. If I may ask, where do you come from?”

He touches his face and looks at the fingers. “Your monster tried to scratch me. Did it draw ichor, as well?”

I peer up at his incomprehensibly beautiful face, then avert my eyes. “I see no injury there.”

“I’m intolerably weak in this shape!” he growls as he touches his throat. “Even plain steel may pierce me! Wielded by a small woman! The humiliation is unbearable!”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “But Iwasfearing for my life.”

5

- Praxigor-

“You no longer do? Let me see if I can change that.” Right next to her again, I reach out and stroke the knuckle of one finger up along her face.

I’m rewarded with a tremble that goes through her whole body. Her breath, already fast and shallow, turns to a little gasp. Her scent is an interesting mix of primal fear and female arousal, with the latter element suddenly much stronger. That is often the way with females of some inferior species — their bodies betray them in the erotically deadly presence of a dragon. They don’t know whether to flee or to offer themselves, but usually they’re overcome with terror and try to escape.

This one has only fled once, which is mildly puzzling. I can’t recall when any woman other than those of my own superior species has lasted this long without either fainting from the terror or running wildly away from me, sometimes into death.

“Which shall it be with you?” I purr into her ear as I run the finger back up her remarkably smooth skin, making sure shefeels just a hint of the claw. “I will not pursue you if you run again. No female is worth that.”

She shudders and tries to say something, but it comes out as a croak with no discernible words.

“Ah,” I mock her. “You’re speechless.” I slide the finger along her jawline and up to her unusually full lips. “Speak.”

“I…” she manages, but I slide the claw along her lower lip to shut her up.

“Good try,” I praise her, knowing she understands the sarcasm. “I don’t expect you to actually say anything that makes sense.”

I find myself enjoying this. This is a planet full of male dragon slayers, and it’s been an absolutely terrible few years. I shall enjoy this rare woman as long as I can. She has a roundness and a softness to her that I can’t help finding attractive. Her warm skin tone and the darkness of her eyes have their own allure, being unusual and even more alien.

“I need your help,” the female croaks, her tongue stumbling over the words.

“Mmm. And we all know that dragons are ever so helpful.” I trace the ridge of her nose up to her forehead and rest the tip of one claw in the exact middle, pushing it into the skin so it makes a small dimple. “How I long to make your mud-bound little existence the tiniest bit better.”

She winces at the pain. Her breath is ragged now, small knuckles white around that primitive weapon that she pierced me with. “Please.”

I slide the claw down the side of her head, touching the hair and her ear as I smoothly move down to the side of her neck. I cansee her hair move a fraction as the touch makes it stand on end. A small shudder goes through her.

Is sheenjoyingthis?

I take the finger off her. “Shall I stop?”

“No, it’s fine,” she says quickly. “I just…”

I return the finger to her, touching the bare skin on her upper arm and raising obvious goosebumps. “You just wanted to tell me you know about some gold after all?”

Her pink, little tongue shoots out to lick those sensuous, remarkably full lips. “I’m sorry… I don’t...”

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