PRISONER: A Paranormal Yaoi Romance

7

Strange dreams. Dreams of monsters and Dragons and flying. Impossible dreams. Anaire yawns tiredly and tries to stretch his arms over his head. They won’t go past his shoulders. It's like… the joints weren’t made to move that way. His big blue eyes blink open in confusion. He feels strange. He tries to sit up, but it feels awkward, like he is trying to squish his innards. Instead, he rolls over and presses himself up on all fours, shaking his head and trying to orient himself. That is when he notices it; a silvery-white thing in front of his face. He crosses his eyes trying to get a better look at it. It is long and has two holes at the end. Two slender tendrils of smoke rise from the holes. What is that? Anaire squints and then raises his hand to try and grab it. He nearly cuts himself with the razor-sharp talons on the ends of his fingers. He immediately forgets about his giant nose. Anaire gasps and stretches his hands out in front of him. They are more like paws with giant crystal talons. He wobbles on his back legs and that is when Anaire realizes he is sitting on his haunches, like a beast, and what is stabilizing him against the floor is… a tail. He turns his head on his long, slender neck, curving it around to look straight behind him in a way no human’s head could have ever moved, and then boggles at his tail. It is long and sinuous like a snake. It starts out slender at the tip and then slowly gets thicker and thicker until it attaches to the base of his spine, at the joint above his buttocks. It is covered in white and gold shimmering scales. They look delicate, almost ethereal, yet Anaire knows instinctively how strong they are. An incredulous whine builds in his throat as he clenches his butt muscles and the tail flicks in obedience. It shouldn’t be impossible, but it is. He can feel the tail as easily as he can feel his fingers. It is part of him and so are… those. His stunned gaze travels up his back to the enormous wings that lie folded at his sides. He twitches his shoulder blades and gasps as they unfold, wide and powerful, nearly spanning the cave from side to side. That is when Anaire realizes how very tall he is. The cave that seemed so enormous the night before seems to now be about the size of a small room. He looks dizzyingly down at the floor that suddenly seems too far away. A wave of vertigo washes over him. He swallows hard and closes his eyes. He is dreaming. He is definitely dreaming. He will wake, any moment now. He will wake up and be human again. The muscles of his face feel stiff and strange. He wants to touch it, to scratch his nose, but he doesn’t dare with the claws that are now his fingers. Anaire opens his eyes again and realizes that the room is pure darkness, but somehow he can see perfectly well in it. He has no way of knowing it is his own eyes that are glowing, allowing him to see in the dark. He stares in horror at his trembling hands, no, his paws, clenching and unclenching them. Anaire’s heart tightens in his chest. Monster. He is a monster. “No, not a monster.” A deep voice booms in the darkness. Anaire’s gaze flies up and standing there is the black Dragon from the night before. He stands in an enormous arched doorway. He is still just as terrifying, and just as handsome as Anaire remembers him, but not nearly as big. Has the Dragon shrunk? The Dragon’s lips quirk in what Anaire is pretty sure is a smirk as he says, “Size is just a matter of scale.” Anaire frowns. Did he say that out loud? “No.” Blue eyes fly wide in surprise as he realizes the Dragon is reading his mind and how is that possible? “Because we are bonded.” Anaire moves his mouth; it feels strange, like all the muscles have changed from where they are supposed to be. His first attempt at speaking comes out like a garbled grunt, but he succeeds the second time. “W-who are you?” The Dragon saunters over to sit next to Anaire. He moves confidently, but Anaire can detect a hint of insecurity as he curls his enormous body around Anaire’s smaller one. He leans down over him to put their heads close together. Big as Anaire now is, he is still quite a bit smaller than the Black Dragon. Golden eyes gaze down at him tenderly, “I was your cellmate. I am the one you saved from the darkness. Daeron Orodreth is the name my parents gave me, though no one has called me by it in many centuries.” Anaire stares at him. He is hardly processing anything at this point. He looks back down at his strange body, unsure of what to say or how to ask the impossible. It terrifies and horrifies him at the same time. The Black Dragon’s long serpentine body twists itself about him, encasing him in its warmth. He tries his best not to cry, but tears escape anyway. He squeezes his eyes closed and more tears run down his scaly cheek. A forked tongue licks the salt from his cheek. Daeron’s voice is deep and soothing in his ears, “Do not weep beloved. You should rejoice. You are still yourself, only now, so much more. You will understand in a moment, when our minds merge and you know all that I know. Come in Anaire, come in, my precious, and let us be one as we were meant to be.” Anaire frowns, trying to understand what Daeron is trying to say when suddenly he feels a strong pull, like water towards a drain. It drags him toward it. It is like living in one room his entire life and then suddenly finding a door. There is no choice but to open it and walk through. There is someone waiting for him on the other side of the door. He gasps as a second set of memories, thoughts and dreams rush into his consciousness. Their minds mix like salt and water swirling together- the elements are still distinctly their own, but they will be impossible to separate. Now Daeron’s memories are as easy to access as his own. He sees Daeron in the Pit, alone and confused, dumb and sad. He is held prisoner, abused and mistreated- year after year, century after century. Nothing changes for him, until a tiny speck of gold comes down from above. And then, everything changes. Anaire realizes that the worst moment of his entire life was Daeron’s best. His blue eyes open in surprise as the Black Dragon’s feelings rush over him. He is unprepared for the intensity of emotion. He feels how Daeron felt about his ‘Little thing’, how he had loved it and treasured it and protected it, willing to die for it without a second thought. He sees himself in Daeron’s hand, so small and frail, and he feels Daeron’s fear. He feels Daeron’s rage at his past, but above all he feels his love; a timeless, awe-inspiring love. It is intimidating how strong Daeron’s love for him is. It is overwhelming. Suddenly everything catches up to him- the stress of being in the pit, then being almost killed by the red monsters, taken by a Dragon and then suddenly changing into a Dragon himself- it all crashes down at once on the poor boy, who bursts into wracking sobs. Daeron is horrified at the sight of his tears. His love is supposed to bring his mate joy, not terrify him. “Don’t cry my love, oh please, don’t cry,” the older Dragon begs, curving his head around to nuzzle against his cheek. The little Dragon takes one look at Daeron before immediately laying his own head on the ground and moving his forelegs as if to cover his face. Giant tears continue to well from his eyes and plop down his cheeks. “I was terrified of you,” he mumbles, barely audible. Daeron has nothing to say to that. “I had never felt more helpless in my life. All I knew was that you were this enormous, powerful thing that held my life in its hands. I was terrified you might eat me, or drop me, or crush me on accident.” His voice trails off into a choked sob and suddenly Daeron can see the past few days from his perspective- helpless, sightless and at the mercy of an unknowable monster. It only makes him admire his courageous mate all the more. Daeron curls his body around the quaking young Dragon and presses kisses to the top of his head before begging, “Anaire please, I am so sorry. You must understand, the spell the Emperor placed on me, it kept my mind clouded and confused. I could barely think or reason. All I knew was that you were precious to me and I wanted to do everything I could for you.” Anaire’s tears begin to slow and he peeks up at Daeron through long, sodden lashes. “All I had were my instincts,” Daeron confesses. “But they were screaming at me to protect you. Even as dull and stupid as I was, I understood that you were precious. I knew you were meant to be with me. My heart recognized my soulmate instantly and I know, deep inside, despite your fear, yours did too.” Blue eyes jerk away, not yet willing to accept what he knows to be true. His stubbornness makes Daeron smile. “You still shouldn’t have turned me into a Dragon without my permission,” he sniffs. Daeron defends himself, “That was hardly my doing!” Anaire glares at him suspiciously. “I cast a spell of protection over you, and placed my soulstone on your finger… from there the magic infused into you and brought out that which was already in your own heart- your bravery, fire and spirit. The magic has its own will and it chose to bestow on you a form which reflected the truth of your soul. Anaire, your soul is beautiful.” “Truly?” There is doubt in his voice and that is intolerable. Anaire must know how glorious he is. “I have lived for over a thousand years; I have traveled the world over. Everything there is to see, I have seen. There is nothing on this earth so beautiful as you,” Daeron vows as he beholds his mate’s glory. That truth is undeniable. Whereas Daeron is a stocky, muscular and rough-hewn warrior Dragon, Anaire is finely-made, delicate and slender. He will be as a swan in flight- the epitome of grace and beauty. His scales are pale and tipped with shimmering gold dust, finer than any treasure Daeron's eyes have seen. His radiant blue eyes are framed by long thick lashes, his neck is long and sensual, his features are delicate, and his body is sheer perfection. As Daeron’s mind reflects his thoughts- Anaire finally sees himself as Daeron sees him; graceful, elegant and stunningly beautiful. Desireable. Dazzling. Riveting. He is loved, so very loved. And he finds that he loves in return. He cannot help himself. He doesn’t quite understand how or when it happened, but he has seen Daeron’s heart and he knows the truth in it- Daeron loves him, the disobedient little slave boy to whom no one ever lent a drop of kindness since the day his mother died. The white Dragon tosses his lovely head back in pride and sits up straight and tall. He blinks away his tears and smiles radiantly up at his mate and his perfect white fangs flash in the dark. The strength of his mate’s ravenous passion makes him tremble, and even though it is his first time, Anaire is not afraid. He knows he has nothing to fear. Now that Anaire has accepted it, their mindmeld is complete; neither of them will ever be alone again, no matter how near or how far apart they are. They are one. He reaches for Daeron as Daeron reaches back for him. Their long necks intertwine as Anaire lays his pale head on Daeron’s dark breast. He can feel the want and the desire to mate rising in the larger Dragon’s loins. Daeron reaches up to touch the side of Anaire’s cheek. As his paw moves, they transform, each reading the other’s desires. Steam and heat rise around them as mist engulfs their bodies. When it lifts, naked skin glistening with sweat is revealed. Two pairs of very human lips meet in feverish hunger. Their open mouths suck messily, hungrily. Daeron thrusts his tongue inside to meet Anaire’s pink kitten one. Slowly, the boy curls it as he sucks on Daeron’s tongue with tiny mewls of pleasure. Not breaking the kiss for a moment, Daeron lifts his mate into his arms and places him on the bed. He covers Anaire’s beautiful naked body like a blanket with his own. It is heady and animalistic as two mates go into rut. Anaire’s body feels like it is heating up from the inside, like there is a place in his core that needs completion. He aches. He whines in his throat, clutching at Daeron’s shoulders, writhing and grinding his hips clumsily against his mate’s. Daeron is panting to keep himself under control. His cock throbs with the desire to hilt itself deeply into the boy’s virgin sex, but he is determined to go slow, to make it good for Anaire’s first time… His mate reads his intention and shakes his blond head side to side. His eyes are dark with desire as he pants, “Go slow later Daeron. Later! Need you now!” He can feel the boy’s need, the urgency coiling in his belly, but Daeron is set on readying his mate’s body tenderly and he will not be rushed. With strong hands around Anaire’s slender waist, he lifts, turns and presses the boy face-first back onto the bed. The same wet, smooth tongue that had been in his mate’s mouth moments before makes its way, hot like fire, down Anaire’s spine. The virgin boy trembles, fisting the fabric beneath him as he readies himself for what is to come. His excitement is palpable and his heart races in his chest. He hurries to spread his legs- Daeron’s desire to taste his sex is so strong that saliva pools even in Anaire’s own mouth. From between Daeron’s human lips, the forked tongue of the Black Dragon darts out. It is creepy but strangely erotic. It slithers like a snake up Anaire’s back, stroking his waist and running over the curves of his ass, caressing his shape. Anaire groans and presses his bottom backward. With small hands, he spreads his ass cheeks apart, asking, without talking, to be licked from the inside out. “Daeron!” he pants, whimpering and writhing, rutting his own pink cock on the smooth silk beneath his hips. He arches his back and lifts his bottom into the air even as he holds the crease open. The position could not be more filthy. As if hypnotized, Daeron stares at those pale round cheeks quivering with need. His dark eyes are fixed on the tiny star of his mate’s anus. The circle of it puckers and releases like a little pink mouth asking for a kiss. He knows the skin will be soft and sweet and salty like lips. He knows how his tongue will drive Anaire mad. He is unable to show restraint when presented with such a tempting feast. With a grunt, he buries his face between the two perfect orbs of his mate’s flesh with enough force to drive Anaire forward onto his belly. Startled, the boy releases his bottom with an ecstatic cry and his cheeks snap closed. This has the effect of burying Daeron’s face in it as he has wanted to do from the moment he first saw the boy, draped over his wrist, his perfect little bottom shining like two perfect pearls. He makes orgiastic snuffling sounds of pure pleasure as he sucks on the boy’s anal rim, shoving his rough spit-slicked tongue into his cleft, forcing it through the untried muscles and deep inside his small body. Anaire twists, sobs, and wails as he ruts back against the wet heat in his ass. Tears well up in his eyes, for the pleasure is almost painful. It feels as if the Dragon’s tongue is burning his delicate insides. The heat is blistering and yet it only makes him hotter. Daeron’s tongue slips deeper into his gut and Anaire screams at the sensation of having his prostate licked. The forked tongue is now deep in his belly. His cock twitches and cum spurts from the tip, but the orgasm is far from satisfying. He wants, needs, more. Anaire mewls in his throat and then he turns back and glares at his mate in frustration. Daeron chuckles at his impatience. Big hands close over Anaire’s skinny hips and he holds the boy tight as he presses the weeping mushroom head of his cock against the clutching hole of Anaire’s asshole. At the first touch, the blond takes a sharp breath and his anus clenches as he tenses. The little pink rim catches on the tip of Daeron’s dick and he is again reminded of a little mouth trying to give a kiss. The dark-haired man holds for a moment just to watch it twitch open and close in anticipation of being penetrated. The boy whimpers as Daeron begins to press forward, and he can feel taut stomach muscles tensing and flexing under his hands where he grips that tiny waist, preventing any escape. The inside of his clutching channel is hot and wet with Daeron’s spit and the slide is smooth, his entrance only resisted by the tightness of his mate’s muscles. Anaire grunts and whines as Daeron’s thick cock begins to breach his tiny body, but he does not try to escape. If anything, he only pushes back against it. His cock slowly pushes inside the sweltering heat of Anaire’s tiny bottom and Daeron can only stare, transfixed, as the boy’s hole opens wider and wider and wider for him. Sweat trickles down Daeron’s forehead from the effort of going slowly. It rolls down his temples and plops onto the perfect hollow of Anaire’s pale back. His mate has had enough of his excruciating tenderness. Anaire pounds one tiny fist into the pillows and humps his pretty ass backwards impatiently, “NOW Daeron! I need you now!” Daeron grunts and drops his full weight down, shoving him into the mattress. He gracelessly bulldozes his cock into the boy's pretty little hole. With his hands on his wrists and his feet on his ankles, he pins the smaller man spread-eagle to the bed and begins thrusting hard, brutally, mindless to anything but the incredible white hot pleasure of finally being balls deep inside his lovely little one. His breathing is harsh as he presses his hips down and in, ripping them back and then shoving forward once more. He knows he is being ruthless, far too rough, and knows he should slow down, but Anaire’s cries of pleasure only spur him faster. He feels like an animal rutting on top of its mate. The savage fucking lacks all finesse and is purely instinctual. Daeron is helpless to stop. He continues on faster and faster, his hips slapping wetly against Anaire’s sweaty buttocks. Anaire rocks back and forth the best he can to meet his thrusts. Neither one lasts long. All too soon, they tumble together over the edge. Anaire comes with a strangled scream, shoving himself backwards. The clench of his butt is almost painful. Daeron drops his head to rest on Anaire’s back. He comes with silent, rippling shudders. They both collapse bonelessly onto the bed. Just as in his Dragon form, there is a bulge at the base of his cock that ties him to his partner and makes it difficult to withdraw immediately. Daeron moves to roll them to their sides so as to prevent crushing him, but Anaire whimpers a plaintive “No,” so he stays where he is. He can feel how Anaire wants him there, wants his weight resting firm and heavy on top of him, his cock plugging up his hole. The boy cooes his pleasure. His Dragon instincts are beginning to kick in and there is nothing a Dragon likes better than to be comforted and surrounded by its mate and its treasures and its nest. Daeron pulls the covers up to surround him from the sides like a little nest and then laps at the salt of his sweat on the back of his neck. Anaire whines and pushes back, still shivering from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Each tiny movement of the knot inside presses against his prostate and gives him shivers of pleasure. Daeron rocks carefully to prolong it as long as possible. Finally Anaire goes lax and boneless under Daeron. The older man kisses and pets him as he waits for his cock to soften. When the knot goes down, Daeron gently pulls from his mate’s sore and tender hole. Gushes of his cum cascade from between Anaire’s butt cheeks. The thick white semen runs in rivulets down between his legs, soaking his taint and testicles and the bed beneath. Daeron’s mouth waters at the sight of the boy’s defiled rectum, laying slack and open and full of his seed, with more smeared between his pale, trembling thighs. His little one is dirty, yes, very dirty. And that just won’t do. Daeron drools over the boy’s soiled sex. He wants to clean it so badly. He presses his hands to Anaire’s smooth round buttocks and enjoys the way the soft white skin indents under his fingers. He squeezes the globes as he parts them and more cum squishes from Anaire’s red, busted hole. It’s absolutely filthy. He grins in delight, then leans down and drags his tongue across the sloppy mess between his mate’s legs. Anaire whimpers at the ticklish touch on his super-sensitized asslips, but Daeron is too far gone to notice. The puffy pink, ruined hole of his mate’s devirginized anus is too much temptation to bear. He scents at him, deeply inhaling the combined musk of their sexes, and then presses his mouth against the folds of his swollen crease. Cum, heavy with the musk of Anaire’s asshole, oozes out and he laps it up. His tongue practically scrubs into the boy’s little hole. Daeron nuzzles his face into that round, pert little ass as he works, humming to himself and cleaning every last bit of slick from the boy’s gaping sex. Anaire trembles and whimpers, muscles fluttering in his back and shoulders as he arches and presses backwards, wanting his touch, even though he is unbearably tender. Daeron is breathing heavily, saliva pooling in his mouth as he drools over his delicious mate and dutifully cleans every inch of that pale, perfect skin. He fucks his tongue in and out, coaxing every last drop down from the depths of his boy’s tasty bowels. Suddenly, Anaire cums hard, shuddering and spurting yet again, soiling the skin of his taut belly again. His entire front is now coated with cum. Daeron frowns at that. His treasure is still dirty. It is unacceptable for him to leave his precious in this condition. He flips Anaire over with ease. The boy smiles with exhaustion. His honey-blond hair is wild and messed, stuck to his forehead. His pink lips are parted and his cheeks are flushed with delight. Daeron drops his head and kisses his lovely face before dropping to his stomach and lapping the cream from his sticky skin. Daeron marvels at his beauty, the sheer loveliness of his mate’s form as he worships it with his tongue and hands, smearing the boy’s juices into his skin even as he licks them up. When he is finally finished, Anaire’s pink skin is so clean it glistens in the dark. Anaire holds his legs high and open in the air, parted wide and inviting as Daeron moves down his belly to his pretty pink cock. It twitches in anticipation and Daeron’s tongue sweeps over the smooth length of it, sucking down the softness and reveling in its musk as it hardens in his mouth. He pulls it down right snug into his throat. His lips lock around the hilt and his nose is jammed into the boy’s satin-soft crotch. The sensation is almost too intense to bear. Anaire drops his legs. He gasps and jerks so much that Daeron is forced grab onto his hips to hold them still. He lifts his head up to look at him. Anaire’s eyes are heavy-lidded with both exhaustion and lust. His mate is beneath him- naked, blushing pink and squirming, finer than anything Daeron has ever seen. Mouthwatering, Daeron decides. He plants one hand on his mate's pale stomach and one on his balls, pressing him down into the silks. He settles his face down in the cradle of his pretty little one’s thighs and runs his tongue straight up the vein of Anaire's cock. The boy gasps his pleasure. Grinning, Daeron sucks him down, gaining a delicious mouthful of hard, hot, velvet-smooth skin, and presses his thumb right where it matters, that sweet spot behind Anaire’s balls. Shocked, Anaire jerks in surprise. His blue eyes bulge as he comes again, jerking and twisting under Daeron’s hands. His spend is thinner now, but Daeron swallows it greedily. The young one closes his eyes in exhaustion and lays his head back on the pillow. Daeron rests his head on his mate’s soft inner thigh. In a daze, Anaire idly runs his fingers through Daeron’s dark hair. His expression is soft as he looks down, but then he grins impishly. He points to a drop of his cum on his milky-white stomach and teases,“You missed a spot.” Daeron’s eyes flare in mock outrage, “Oh, is that so? Is that so?” He moves to straddle the boy, laughing and squirming under him, then he jerks himself off over Anaire’s chest and neck. He comes in thick stripes, spraying his seed all over his mate and then messily rubbing it into his soft, sweet skin. He despoils him just so he can clean him up again. Daeron is pretty sure he has found his new favorite pastime. Anaire laughs and laps the cum Daeron feeds him from his fingers like a happy kitten. When finally they are both clean, smelling so strongly of each other it is impossible to discern one from another, the two Dragons nest down in their bed and sleep, twined in each other’s arms.