Page 23 of The Pleasure Contract

“Okay,” Az laughs lightly, but I can feel the rumble of it against my back. “We need to get you to calm your breathing-”

“But-”

“Can you do that for me, Lois?” he interrupts, his voice smooth like caramel. “Breathe with me, in time with my breaths.” He then pulls me even firmer against himself, using that arm banded across my chest like a tightening seatbelt. “Breathe in,” he says, and I feel his chest expand behind me. “And out.”

I follow along, matching his inhales and exhales. All the while, Az keeps stroking along my jaw and down my neck until his fingers brush against the lace collar he’d made me put on before leaving the house. He stills. The slow, steady breathing at my back dies in a sharp inhale, and he tries to pull his hand away.

I say ‘tries’ because I am still holding onto that muscled forearm of his like a stubborn barnacle attached to a ship’s hull.

“I-er…” he swallows behind me – I can feel the movement where my head is tucked up beneath his chin. “Sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Don’t bring your weird Xaviann throat fetish into this now, Az,” I snap. “You were actually doing a good job of calming me down and making me feel more secure up here flying around in God’s waiting room on a double-headed lizard.” I move his hand back to my neck, fitting his big warm palm over my throat until it feels like he’s anchoring me to him completely. “Now do that breathing stuff again.”

There’s a soft snort behind me as Az flexes his hand around my throat. “Yes, my Lady.”

I focus on his breathing – the way his chest expands and slowly deflates behind me, matching him breath for breath as much as I can. I’m pretty sure his lungs must be twice the size of mine, though – and the same could probably be said about his heart with the way I can feel the thump, thump, thump of it, too.

“Thaaat’s it,” Az murmurs. “You’re doing so well for me, Lois.”

He’s stroking my neck again like he just can’t help himself. I don’t mind. I think it actually helps to keep my mind off the bajillion miles of nothing that’s between me and solid ground.

After a little while, I feel another light chuckle at my back. “You know, you get very bossy when you’re frightened, little female.”

Before I get a chance to respond, he releases my throat and deftly slips his arm from my grasp. “Here,” he says, handing me the reins of his drak, physically curling my fingers around the multiple leather straps. “Why don’t you boss my other ladies around for a while?”

“No. I don’t-” I stammer, shaking my head.

“Gently tug on this one to steer us in that direction,” he murmurs, leaning over me to demonstrate, his warm hand covering mine as he performs the slight movement for me to see. “And the same for the opposite. To slow us, we need pressure on all reins and to-”

“What about to land us safely in one piece back on the ground?”

Lady… or Puff, I’m not sure which, tilts her head up and roars into the night as if offended at the suggestion.

“In good time,” Az laughs softly from behind. “They need to stretch their wings, and you need to relax. Look,” he says, helping me to steer the huge double-headed dragon-creature until in front of us, lit up like a festive cluster of Christmas trees, lay the climbing towers of the palace.

I have to admit, it is a wonderful sight. The city sprawls beneath us in a haze of gold and white. All the people and their lives carrying on down there, represented by a few glowing points of light. But the dots aren’t just in the streets that branch out like veins carrying the life force of the Xaviann city, or in each individual illuminated room, looking like a scattering of stars that spilled across the ground. No, there are flying lights around here, too – flying lights from flying ships. Some are small; one dot zooming through the airspace, and some are several dots long, representing a much larger craft coming in to dock or going out to travel.

“What if we fly into one of those cruisers?” I ask, the sudden thought making me panic and peer around for any nearby ships.

“We’re flying above the standard cruising altitude.”

Of course we are.

“And besides, ships of all shapes and sizes are equipped with all kinds of automated scanners and detection systems to help them fly safely. How do you think they’re not crashing into each other every day down there?”

Swallowing, I peer down, and sure enough, I see what he means. Those little cruisers whiz about all over the place, but they always manage to avoid each other.

“Relax, Lois,” Az repeats, and this time, I take a breath – one bigger and steadier than before.

It takes a little while, but as I’m experimenting with the reins, steering us ever so slightly this way and that, I think I finally start to feel calm – or as calm as you can be this high up in the sky.

It is beautiful, though. The blanket of black above us, sprinkled with stars, and the hubbub of city life below us.

At some point, Az leans forward, his arms under mine, reaching to give his drak a scratch in a specific place on both shoulders. The creature makes a pleased-sounding trilling noise. “Gooood girls,” he rasps in my ear, and for some reason it feels like he’s including me in that particular bit of praise.

And I can’t say I didn’t like it.

“C’mon,” he says, covering my hands on the reins and making a clicking noise with his mouth, causing us to change course.