Blue Dragon Challenge Read online

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  Copyright ©2007 by Aurora Rose Lynn

  First published in 2007, 2007

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  Blue Dragon Challenge

  ISBN # 978-1-906328-09-2

  ©Copyright Aurora Rose Lynn 2007

  Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright May 2007

  Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

  Total-e-bound books

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author's imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-e-bound eBooks.

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  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork

  Published in 2007 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

  Warning:

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  BLUE DRAGON CHALLENGE

  Aurora Rose Lynn

  Dedication

  For every woman who wants to be a princess...

  Chapter One

  She wouldn't have to fake it with Scott. If he'd take her to bed.

  With his cock deep inside her, an orgasm would be a delicious, mind-blowing experience. Was he even aware of her need for him as he sat on the floor, his legs crossed Indian style, talking to her about an absurd topic like godmothers?

  Scott, the heir apparent to the Vandarian throne, overwhelmed her bachelor flat with his intimidating presence. Her room was almost larger than the small principality that few had heard of but meant everything to him. He'd dropped in an hour earlier to visit but his countenance was melancholy, an unusual state of affairs for the normally cheerful prince.

  "So what do you think? Is there such a person as a godmother?” he asked, tilting his handsome face upwards to look into her eyes.

  Justine couldn't help herself. She spiralled forward into those inquisitive blue eyes, the colour of a shimmering sapphire. Her breath caught. If only he would see her as he saw his other fly-by-night women, attractive, desirable, a female who would do anything for one hot, hot night in bed with him. She'd strip naked for him, spread her legs wide apart so he could feast his eyes on her weeping pussy. Her nipples puckered into tight buds just thinking about the ways she could lure Scott into her fantasy sex world.

  "Want a beer?” she asked in an attempt to break the tenacity of her lurid thoughts.

  Quickly, she rose and headed for the fridge where she would be alone for a second or two. How could he ignore her blatantly aroused behaviour? What would nudge him into noticing her as a female, hot and ready for her prince?

  She handed him the beer. As her fingers brushed his, sparks flashed. “Did you feel that?” she asked, hoping he had not only felt the sparks but had seen them arcing from their hands like brilliant garnets and translucent diamonds.

  "Felt what?” he asked absently.

  "Never mind.” If Scott hadn't experienced the arcing himself, there was no point in explaining the phenomenon. She'd return to admiring his fantastic physique. The man was drop dead gorgeous. All the time he spent in the gym had paid off too. A white golf shirt encased his broad chest but the sleeves couldn't hide the rippling muscles of his biceps. Neither could his dark jeans hide the massive size of his cock. Justine sucked in a breath. Heat seared her cheeks, forcing her to rub them with her palms. She sighed. He was so overpoweringly sexy.

  "Justine? Justine?” she heard him call her name from far, far away. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and sighed again. She had to snap out of her mooning after him. “Yes?” she said, wondering what he'd been discussing so intently. If only she weren't so damned attracted to him, maybe she could get on with her life instead of waiting for him to make a move.

  "You're usually right with me, word for word.” Scott's eyes shone with humour. “Penny for your thoughts?"

  You had me with ‘usually right with me'. Under your strong, muscled body. Justine cleared her throat. “I was thinking about the girl you're going to marry,” she blurted. Her cheeks flamed hotter. What business of hers was it who he married? If he wanted her, Justine, wouldn't he have said or done something? Scott was such a forward man. He left nothing to chance, even when he inched up the face of a sheer mountainside, just for the sheer thrill.

  His thick eyebrows squirreled together. “What does that have to do with godmothers?"

  Flustered, she waved a hand in the air. “I don't know.” Should she dare admit the truth to him? That she was in love with him? Had been for the last five years since she first set eyes on him that fateful day in University?

  "Are you coming down with a cold or something?” Effortlessly, he rose and sat beside her, wrapping his muscled arms around her waist. Definitely not a lover's hold.

  "I think I might be.” She felt protected and safe in his embrace, as if she belonged. Why couldn't he see how they fit together so perfectly even if she wasn't of noble blood?

  He nuzzled her forehead with his chin, his shadow beard scraping against her tender skin. Justine thought of how those tiny, sharp hairs would feel against the inside of her thighs as his warm lips travelled towards her demanding pussy.

  Scott held a palm to her forehead, presumably checking her temperature. “You're hot. You need to lie down."

  She drew in a slight breath. His nearness made her want him more, like a smouldering fire searching for more fuel, she thought forlornly. She changed the subject. “What was this about godmothers?"

  His intent gaze met hers. “I asked if you believe in them. Is there the possibility that a fairy godmother could wave her magic wand and all of a sudden, presto! I'd be transformed into a handsome prince and Cinderella would find me with no effort.” He turned away but not before Justine caught the devastating sadness in his eyes.

  Was it possible that he was lonelier than he let on? “What's going on?” she asked, cupping his chin in her hand and forcing him to look at her again.

  "I don't know if I should tell you this. Maybe you'll think I'm crazy.” He tipped his head forward. Their lips were mere inches apart.

  "Try me.” Justine caught the scent of mint on his breath and his particular musky essence. Despite the fact he wasn't thirty yet, he had a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His life as a prominent figure couldn't be easy. Against every impulse, she ran her fingers through the silky strands of his honey blonde hair. He was her best friend. He could tell her anything, and who was she to judge him?

  "I met a woman.” He swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

  Justine wanted to flick her tongue along his throat, up his chin and then plunder his mouth with butterfly kisses. “Yes?” she forced herself to say.

  "She told me she was my godmother."

  "Seriously?"

  Scott nodded. “Yeah. She said I had one week to find my true love, the woman who will be my princess."

  "One week?” She squinted up at him. “Were you dreaming this?"

  "No, it happened last night. I was getting ready for bed. All of a sudden, there's this stout woman in an orange muu muu standing in front of me. I'm not ashamed of what I was born with, but I was naked as the day I was born."

  "Oh.” Some woman in an orange getup got to see him naked, but the woman who loved him the most in all the world, didn't have that privilege. Go figure.

  She could only imagine observing Scott undress. Slip the golf shirt over his head and muss the blonde strands, each muscle in his arms and neck bulging. His chest with a few fine hairs was the kind that begged to be touched. His nipples were a dusky brown and as he lowered his hands to the waistband of his trousers, she'd see an arrow of hair shimmying its way down towards his pubic area.

  A tiny sigh escaped her lips. If she dared imagine any more, she'd end up jumping him right there and then. “Yeah?” she ground out. Which wasn't such a bad idea but would she be forcing herself on him? She wanted him to really want her, not because she was a female but because he yearned to have her in his arms. “Then what happened?"

  Scott didn't notice her tumult. “She gave me an ultimatum. A challenge, if I've ever had one."

  He paused. Justine elongated her neck. She knew the kiss would be a taste of forbidden heaven as their lips touched ever so gently. A tentative exploration of endless,
sensual possibilities.

  She wanted more and even as her arms circled around his shoulders, he drew back, an expression of dismay etching his handsome, tanned face.

  "I didn't mean to do that!” he protested.

  Justine slowly licked her lips, lowering her arms. “Um, me either,” she lied. Her nerves tingled and the crotch of her panties dampened. Reluctantly, she drew away. The safest thing was to get up and find another place to sit, like an armchair for one person, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. It meant putting distance between herself and the man who might be married tomorrow and therefore ‘unavailable’ for even a friendly hug. Justine would miss that terribly.

  Scott did what she couldn't. He moved away to the armchair in front of the window where the sunlight caught his hair, creating an angelic halo. He clasped his hands in his lap, an uncharacteristic mannerism. “I'm sorry,” he said, his voice husky and penitent. “I don't know what came over me."

  The only thing Justine was sorry for was that he hadn't gone further. She imitated his posture but could do nothing to hide her peaked nipples under her thin T-shirt.

  "Do you want me to leave?"

  She shook her head, at a loss to make any sound. If only, if only, was the theme of her life.

  "Where was I?” he mulled, rubbing a nervous hand over his jaw. “Oh, my godmother."

  "I thought you said she was a woman dressed in orange."

  He held up his hands in a puzzled gesture. “I've never before dealt with a woman who claimed she was my godmother. She told me—

  "He paused, choosing his words. “That my princess had a blue tattoo on one cheek. Once I found her, then I would find true love.” His words petered out, leaving a tense silence.

  Justine scrambled to find something to say. His story seemed foolish. Godmothers only operated in childish fairy tales, not in the real world of adults.

  "Was there something else she told you?” she asked, keeping her voice gentle. She didn't believe her friend needed psychiatric help. There had to be more to his tale than he was letting on.

  Scott pressed his lips into a thin line, then gave a meager smile. “She said I had one week to find this woman or else I would lose my kingdom."

  Chapter Two

  Justine didn't know what to say. Scott wasn't the type who made up stories of dire outcomes if he didn't follow through on an arrangement. “Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

  She could think of several better uses for dreaming. Like being fucked from behind, or lying pliant as he smoothed fine jelly over her body and licked every last drop off, making her come and come again. After a few screams, of course. She wasn't the silent kind of woman when it came to orgasms.

  "How hard can it be to find a woman with a blue tattoo on her cheek?” Surely, he wasn't making this up?

  He groaned. “She didn't mean on her cheek.” He pointed at his face as if Justine wouldn't understand. “She meant down here.” He pointed at his thigh.

  "I'm lost,” Justine confessed. “How can a cheek be on your thigh?"

  He made a gurgling sound of disbelief. “Not on a thigh. On her ass. What has my life come to? It wouldn't have been too difficult with a slipper, but with a tattoo on one cheek?"

  "How are you going to find this princess in one week with a tattoo on her ass?” That would mean he'd have to pull down a lot of girls’ panties and have a peek. Maybe she could show him hers.

  Justine imagined Scott surveying her as she turned her back on him and then slipped her panties slowly down her legs. Oh yes, to feel cool air wafting over her hot cheeks. Just for herself, she would tweak her nipples and she knew without a doubt that honeyed cream would run down the inside of her thighs. What if he asked her to bend over and show her wet, hardened nub? The thought made her wetter. She dragged the back of her hand across her forehead. She wouldn't be sleeping again tonight.

  Scott jumped up. “There I go again, talking about my problems, which aren't yours, and you're sick. Can I get you anything? A cup of tea, a sandwich from the corner deli? Anything?"

  Justine revelled in his genuine concern. If only she could tell him what she really wanted—for him to lay her on a bed of roses and fuck her good—then she'd feel much better. She hid her face and groaned. “Maybe it's just best if you leave. For now."

  "Are you sure I can't get you anything? Do you need a doctor?"

  He'd have sent his own physician if she consented. The only physician she needed was one just like Scott, standing over her, naked, with a hard-on just for her. Unfortunately, there was no pill for that. Only the real man would do.

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  Scott closed the door to Justine's flat softly behind him. He considered calling his physician and sending him over to take a look at her but he knew better. Justine was her own woman. She didn't handle coddling too well. Gestures of affection irritated her. She didn't talk much about her past so he had no idea what her childhood or teenage years had been like. Had they been filled with doting parents as his childhood had been? Or had her growing up years been filled with divorce and animosity? Or worse yet, was she an orphan, a child whose mother had abandoned her?

  He strode down the hallway and out of the building's confining space. He preferred the fresh air, the sunlight glinting off trees and flowers, and climbing mountains, or sheer rock faces to challenge himself. But he had never in his life been confronted by the impossible task of finding a woman with a tattoo on her ass!

  At the corner deli, he ordered a bacon, turkey and avocado sandwich on sourdough along with a dilled pickle spear. Preoccupied by his problem, he sat near a window fronting the main street where people rushed by eager to get home after a day at work. A woman in her early twenties strolled by in red stiletto heels. He cursed the day he'd been born. What was he to do? Ask every woman he met, ‘Say, can you dip your panties for me? I just need to check if you've got a blue dragon tattoo.’ And say, ‘if you're the lucky winner, then you get to become my wife.’ Yeah, like every girl he encountered would love to be relieved of her panties for a quick look.

  His thoughts returned to Justine. They'd known each other the last five years, two of them in university, and since then, every moment with her was sheer torture—of the sexual variety. He wanted to rip her clothes off and make passionate love to her one day and the next, he wanted to slide his hard cock into her welcoming cunt and feel every inch of her satin skin under his fingers. She was off limits though. Whenever she was with him, her arms would cross in front of her breasts, and sometimes, when he got far too close for dick-in-the-pants comfort, she made tiny sounds of what he took to be disapproval. She meant to keep him at arms’ length, which was almost impossible for best friends, but she managed.

  Whenever he was with her, he wanted to run his hands through the lustrous strands of her waist length chestnut hair, to muss the wavy curls and to bite her lips ever so tenderly until they were ripe and kiss swollen. She had big breasts that sent him over the proverbial edge whenever he thought about taking the perky nipples between his lips and tasting and teasing. Thrusting his cock into her pussy was more than a man could handle without burning up.

  When he'd slipped his arms around her in her flat, he smelled her light fragrance, a heady combination of lemon and roses that always sent his senses reeling. The kiss had been totally natural, but a big mistake on his part. How could he be so stupid when he knew Justine kept physical distance from him as much as she could?

  He unfolded the napkin at his setting and wondered. How do I get however umpteen women to bare their asses for me? And where do I start? In the palace? Out on the street? In a hospital? Hell, he decided he'd go rock face climbing to forget about the stress his supposed godmother's challenge had caused. Sometimes, after he'd reached the pinnacle of the rock face, answers he'd never have thought of, came to him out of thin air. Maybe, just maybe, there was an answer, or at the very least, a simple solution to his problem. It was worth a try.

  Chapter Three

  Justine needed only a few seconds to make a plan. As Scott searched in every direction for his future princess, she'd be there every step of the way. Rousing from her lethargy and disappointment, she strolled to the gilt-edged mirror hanging on the bedroom wall.