Slave-Girl of the Dragon Rider by Lisa Skydla (most popular novels txt) 📕

The moon lit the room in turquoise, providing enough light for her to see his concerned expression. He nodded, and sat on the edge of the bed, looking worried. “Would you like to tell me about the dream? It would be good for you” he offered affectionately, she only shaking her head with a forced smile. “No master, I do not want to burden you” she declined quietly. She would have gladly told him about her nightmares and sought his advice on how she could sleep normally again, but she unfortunately didn’t dare. “Please little one, it really is no problem, and perhaps it will help you” he replied calmly, gently stroking her cheek again, lending her a feeling of closeness. “It’s always the same dream. I stare into the darkness and see nothing, absolutely nothing. Then the glowing eye of a zjerta emerges from the darkness, and he’s holding my father’s head in his hand” she managed to get out, the tears running down her cheeks. “He reaches out for me, and I have the dead face of my daddy right before my eyes” she sobbed, before breaking off. Artyom pulled her gently onto his lap, wrapping both arms around her and holding her head to his bare chest, rocking her back and forth like a small child. “I will not let anyone hurt you” he whispered into her ear. She clung to him, trembling with the tears. So far she had been strong, suppressing her feelings, but right now, at this early hour, she just couldn’t take it anymore, the experiences of the last few days breaking powerfully over her as a torrent of tears, the fear, the sorrow, and the anger all coming forcibly to the surface, while her master held her pressed closely to him. “Cry your eyes out, it will do you good” he murmured, reassuringly stroking her back, with her tears running down his chest as she desperately clung to him.
It was quite some time before she lifted her head to look up to him from swollen eyes. “I’m sorry” she began, but Artyom put a finger delicately to her lips. “There is no need to be sorry. I am here for you” he promised her softly. Before she could say anything, he stood, with Sinja still in his arms, and carried her through the bathroom to his own bedroom, putting her carefully down on the bed and pulling the blanket from underneath to cover her. “Tonight, I will take care of you, rose of the steppe” he assured her. She nodded, relieved, and shortly afterwards he slipped under the covers, holding her against him again. Here, feeling him close by her, she felt safe again. His hands brushed gently down over her bare back, but she did not for a second realise she was lying completely naked in his arms, only becoming aware of it as she felt his hardness beginning to press against her naked belly. Sinja tried to gradually squirm from his embrace and put some distance between their bodies, but his arms were firmly snaked around her, easily keeping her in place. “Have no fear little one, I can absolutely control myself if I want to” whispered Artyom. “I’m sorry master, I didn’t mean to seduce you, but I have no gown, and no underwear” she whispered back in shame. A quiet chuckle reassured her and, relieved, she snuggled back into his arms where she felt so safe and secure. “You do not need to be naked to seduce me” he said, somehow distantly, miles away in thought. She wondered what she could answer to that; or, rather go back to her own bed? Then she felt his warm hands gently holding her head before he tenderly kissed her, his lips brushing questioningly over hers, and sensing no resistance he licked tenderly into the corner of her mouth. The tension of arousal was mounting inside Sinja, and she closed her eyes, trembling. As his tongue stroked her lips again, they parted slightly in response. Her master followed her invitation immediately, carefully sliding his tongue over her teeth, savouring her flavour, his tenderness igniting a veritable inferno of feelings within her, his tongue challenging hers to a twisting duel she gladly accepted, passionately pressing herself against him, excited now by the feel of his cool, bare skin directly against her own, no longer afraid of his hardness, quite the contrary. Without ending the kiss, he let go of her head and put a hand around to support the back of her neck, holding her as he continued the passionate kissing. The fingers of his other hand slid down her back, brushing over her firm behind, then back up again. As if with a mind of their own Sinja’s arms wrapped themselves around his neck as she warmly returned his intimate kiss.
Artyom let go, completely out of breath, leaning on one elbow to look down at her. “Look at me, little rose of the steppe” he uttered huskily. She opened her eyes, and immediately the uncertainty came back, along with the fear. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, his gaze plunging deeply beyond her pupils, as if reading her soul, then gently smiled, murmuring “let us get some sleep, it is much too early in the morning for anything else.” He put his arms tenderly around her again, but this time only to comfort her as she fell asleep. Sinja struggled briefly but uncomfortably with her own arousal before her eyes closed and she indeed drifted into a deep, reassured slumber.
The next morning she woke to the sound of purring resounding loudly in her ear. Opening her eyes rather slowly and curiously, she was directly facing Mika, who had nestled closely up against her. She saw with a moment’s regret that Artyom was already up, and with a blistering shock it occurred to her that it was not proper for a slave to sleep longer than her master, but then also remembered the previous night, and how affectionate he had been. This man kept confusing her more and more, on one hand he appeared cold and aloof, but then again on the other he behaved so tenderly caring. Smiling, she tried to push Mika away, who was now enthusiastically licking her face. For a moment she did not begrudge him, scratching thoroughly behind his ears before casting the covers aside and quickly getting up to scurry to the bathroom and wash, only to run directly into Artyom, who was about to return to his bedroom. “Excuse me master” she muttered, lowering her eyes, this gesture however angering him again; the slave traders had succeeded in transforming her into a mindless puppet, and he couldn’t prevent himself from frowning. “No need to apologise, it is not a problem” he snapped impatiently. Startled, she took a step back and wondered what she could have done for him to now respond in such a manner. He must surely be annoyed because she had behaved so childishly last night, or because they had slept for so long. “Wash yourself and wait for me in your room. Once my work is done, we will go into the city” he prescribed coldly, already almost out of the room.
Stunned, she stared at the closed door, completely unable to figure it out. Last night he had treated her so tenderly, and comforted her, and she remembered his promise to protect her. With a sigh she went to the closet and took out soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, and towel, washed thoroughly, and brushed her teeth. When she was done she put everything back in place, dried the washbasin she had used with the towel, and hung it over the edge. She looked around uncertainly again, but still found nothing with which she could properly clean the bathroom, so she went to her room, put on the clothes from the previous day again, and sat on the bed to wait. There was nothing to do, and the inactivity tested her, but her master had clearly said she should wait for him. Her stomach growled, and she hoped Artyom would find time for her soon.
Artyom finally opened the door to her room and stepped inside. On this day he was again wearing the attire of a dragon rider, the black pants fitting closely over his legs and rear, leather boots, and the pauldrons over his shoulders to which his cloak was fastened. He looked at her for a moment, then held out a hand. “Come here, little one” he said softly. She looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to fathom what kind of mood he was in this time, before taking his hand and letting herself be helped up. He pulled her to him, his arms wrapping protectively around her, and she immediately felt the security no one had been able to give her, until now.
“I am sorry I let my anger out on you. You are not to blame, I was just so angry that those slavers have broken your will” he said quietly, resting his chin on her head. She had expected many things, but not that he would apologise. Nothing fit into the picture these brutal men had beaten into her. She sighed softly, but her stomach growled loudly. Artyom looked at her with surprise. “Have you not had any breakfast?” he asked, lifting her chin with the back of his hand. She shook her head timidly. “No master, you ordered me to stay in my room and wait for you” she reminded him, a little intimidated. “That is not the way I meant it, it was not meant to be punishment” he muttered. Sinja looked at him in wonder; that he felt guilty because she had misunderstood his command? “It’s nothing, master, I can go without breakfast, besides, it was all my own fault because I obviously misunderstood you” attempting to take the blame. “No little one, it is my fault, I was not thinking because I was angry with the slave traders, and I am sorry it came out on you; I apologise for that. I did not intend to make you go hungry. Come, let us get you something to eat first” he said, releasing her from his embrace, taking her hand and leading her from the room into the hall where they had eaten the day before, courteously adjusting her chair before disappearing through the connecting door to the kitchen. Sinja sat waiting a while before he came back carrying a tray, and laid everything required for a stately breakfast on the table before her. “Please help yourself and - please, take your time” he pronounced amicably. Sinja gave him a smile, but this time her eyes smiled too, and it was like sunrise in the room.
Happy not to have upset him, Sinja took her pick from the delicious spread, choosing two small pancakes with syrup and a muffin with chocolate chips. She ate with relish, savouring every bite; with the nomads she had rarely known such a rich breakfast, but apart from anything else, the pancakes were simply delicious. She looked up to him gratefully, satisfied, and put the things back on the tray. “Let me just take this back to the kitchen, then Darina is waiting for us; your new clothes in my colours are ready” he told her, Sinja nodding shyly, as in her eyes it was not right that another woman should sew clothes for her, but before she could think any more about it he was back at the table, gallantly offering his hand and pulling back her chair as she stood.
Again he led them through the corridors, his fingers intertwined with hers, this tender gesture alone taking away much of her fear. Darina greeted them cheerfully, and immediately rushed into an adjoining room to get the clothes. “Sinja, try them on please, so I can see if anything needs altering” she requested. The dragon rider released