Roo just knew Fleur was going to go psycho bimbo bitch on him after his next move, but the drawbridge below wouldn’t withstand another blast of her breath, let alone whatever other abilities she certainly had to fling at it. The pentacles of amber woven into her pink gloves were a big enough warning to be wary.
Wary like a fish seeing a buttered frying pan.
Hanging off his whip wrapped around her waist and leg with tail, Roo was swinging like the pendulum in the grandfather clock Bishop Hagert kept in his study and forced Roo to watch over and over and over to learn patience and calmness and peace of mind and actually, it might of worked.
Sort of.
The palisade behind him was still standing strong. The drawbridge wasn’t severely damaged. It could be easily repaired.
Unless Fleur went psycho bitch on it.
But psycho bitches often made mistakes.
Fatal ones.
Just like raging trolls, orcs, and any other shitty whatever. Unless she went berserker bitch. Then … it’s over for him.
And the way she was snarling at him, forget that date once he won.
At least no matter how much she was flapping those scarlet wings of hers and flooding him with her elven musk of strawberries and cream, they were both still sinking lower and lower, very jerky and wobbly and very likely to crash.
So Roo climbed upwards and onward.
Fleur spat out what had to be dragon curses. Pointed her palms at him.
And oh crap.
Bolts of pink lightning thundered down at him.
Shield up – and touching his whip.
BANG!
His dragon scale zapped. Heated. Shuttered.
Fleur screamed.
Dropped.
Roo landed on his feet. Drawing his cold silver blade.
Used the force of her crash to drive the blade right through her.
Above her belly but below her chest. Her hellishly endowed chest pillowed his arm so heavenly nonono.
And damn, was she heavy. Good thing his whip secured her tail and one of her legs.
Roo was already on his ass. Fleur on top of him. Warm and sultry, and very injured.
Her whimper. Raspy pants. Good. Even if her breath was so wonderfully warm and strawberry sweet, he hadn’t let go of his blade or whip either. She insisted on this deathmatch … she’d better be ready for her first death.
“Ready to give up yet?” Roo said.
“Oh you naughty boy,” Fleur said, “It hurts, but I have not had a battle like zees in ah-ah-ah.”
Roo hugged her waist tight. As soft and sultry as her body was, he refused to go too dumbassed now, so he shoved his blade higher.
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
Up toward her … what he would call an incredibly buxom bosom. One better than Peaches’, as surprising as that was.
Her yelps.
He forced himself to smirk at her pixie face twisting in pain. Her lips were such a sweet cherry red delight that – nonono.
She cried. “Stop!”
“Surrendering?” he said, but didn’t stop.
Yet.
Crack.
“I’ll breath fire into your face,” she said with a wicked fanged grin.
“You won’t be happy if you try,” he said, and grimaced back at her.
“Zank you for not holding back,” she said, “As much as it pains you to hurt me, it is over. I am zorry. Time for you to die, no? Enjoy my fiery kiss of death …”
She opened her mouth big and wide. Breathed deeeeeep.
As he shoved her blade higher. Crack crack crack. From her chest.
Between her breasts now.
Only a little left – but not enough time.
She trembled. Clearly in real serious pain, but nothing compared to what she’d soon feel.
“Raz!” Roo said, “Now!”
Raz darted from off Roo’s head. Out of the cowl.
Right into Fleur’s mouth.
And bite her tongue.
Her overly sensitive serpent tongue.
And bit it hard.
Her scream. Her utter agony.
Then collapse.
Raz dashed back onto Roo’s head.
Roo … no, he couldn’t kill her now. She was finished. Panting miserable on the ground.
“V-v-vat are you vaiting for?” she said, “T-t-time for my first death, no?”
“No,” Roo said, “Not yet.”
Answers first.
“Oh yes,” she said, “Zee date. I … ohdearDark it hurts. I-I am not in zee shape for it, but a promise is a promise, no? No hard feelings, no?”
Roo sighed. “No hard feelings – except the blade inside you.”
Fleur whimpered, but smiled at him?
Damn, she was too good natured about this, and he couldn’t help but like her for it.