Dragon Fated: A Billionaire Dragon Shifter Romance (Prince of the Other Worlds)

by Kara Lockharte

  He didn’t respond to her for a long while, and then he blinked. Heavy beads of water rolled off his eyelashes, and for the first time since they’d gotten into the shower, Andi felt like he could see her. He didn’t say anything after that. He just rose to wind both of his arms around her waist, pulling her close, putting his cheek on her stomach. She could feel his hot breath on her as the water ran over both of them.

  “It’s all going to be okay,” she soothed him, running her hands through his hair and down his back over and over again, petting him, just feeling him breathe. His arms tightened, and his head turned toward her, still bowed, pressing his forehead against the slight rise of her belly. Andi took this as a good sign and traced the outline of his ears with gentle care. “See? I’m really here,” she told him, and then he kissed her, just below her navel.

  Andi froze. She hadn’t been expecting that, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing as he kissed her again. She trembled. If something was wrong, maybe he needed time to think and recover. Maybe this wasn’t wholesome. “Damian,” she breathed as his mouth moved lower. “I’m good. I just want you to be okay.” He sank back onto his heels in front of her, as his hands moved to cup her ass and bring her closer to him. “You don’t have to,” she protested, pushing gently back on his shoulders.

  He paused to look up at her. His expression was still haunted, but at least he had words now. “No, Andi. I do,” he said and started kissing lower.

  Each of his kisses held the promise of another until he was pushing his chin against the place where her thighs met, nudging them apart for his mouth. Andi squeezed them together and had one last moment to think that maybe this wasn’t right or good for him, but his mouth was insistent, and his tongue slid between her legs, trying to taste whatever she would give him, and she shuddered and parted for him all at once.

  Damian made a rumbling sound beneath her, like thunder for the rainstorm they were in, and positioned himself below the inverted V of her thighs, kissing up, and when his lips met on her clit, she swayed. He grabbed her ass to hold her there, as she wound her hands down into his hair, making a soft sound as he kissed her there again. He rose slightly higher, pressing his face into her so that she could feel the stubble of his chin press into her heat, and she could ride it, the same as she could ride his mouth and tongue. She started whining without meaning to, unable to stop herself, making small helpless sounds as he kept pressing her, kept kissing her, kept drinking her down.

  “Please, yes, please,” she breathed, turning her face up to the water above, feeling it beat on her skin, sliding over her body like another set of hands. His hands on her ass were insistent. She could feel the pressure of each fingertip, keeping her close as she began to grind. His tongue pushed under her hood, his lips sucked her clit in, and the roughness of his chin—she wound up on her tiptoes, hips arched, only barely upright and hanging on. Her hands in his hair went tight, and she squirmed, her hips rocking of their own accord, taking what she needed from his mouth and tongue, moaning as he held her there, letting her use him to wind herself tightly, and she realized this was what he wanted, what he needed, to feel like he was here again. If salvation of a sort lay between her legs, then she was going to fucking give it to him.

  She looked down at him and saw his eyes were closed, like in letting him eat her out, she was granting him communion. “Look at me, Damian,” she panted out. “I want you to see what you do to me.” His golden eyes slowly opened, and while they were still wary, they weren’t as haunted as they had been. His hands on her ass tightened as he sucked harder at her eager clit. “Oh my God,” she whispered, teetering above him, barely able to stand or stand it any longer, feeling everything he was giving her coil inside her like a snake waiting to strike. “Oh my God, Damian,” she hissed, curling forward until it was too late, and she was hit by the first crashing wave. “Oh my God…fuck…yes!” she howled, pounding her hips against him, giving each wave his name. “Damian…fuck…Damian!” The thrashing sounds of her coming reverberated off the shower’s glass and back on them until she moaned and trembled, the last of her orgasm flowing out of her.

  He took his time releasing her, pulling carefully away, and she swayed, coming slowly back into her body. How was she supposed to protect him and make sure everything really would be okay when she could barely stand? Then he was standing too, again, and he wasn’t the same despondent man she’d dragged into the shower with her. He wasn’t back to the version of himself he’d been earlier, but a portion of him had returned to her…and to him. Water poured down his shoulders, rippling down his abs and laying the fine hair of his stomach down in a dark trail to where his cock was now arching up, a dark lightning bolt looking for somewhere to land.

  His breath was heavy. His eyes were on her, and Andi pushed her hair out of her face. “Damian?”

  “Yes, princess,” he said, his voice low.

  “Are you all right?” she asked him, well aware that she didn’t even begin to have a way to quantify that when she didn’t even know what was wrong in the first place.

  “No. But I will be,” he said. She watched him swallow, taking all of her in, and then he leaned down to kiss her.

  When she let his tongue in, it felt like he was taking all of her, as his hands swam up her body, sending sheets of water cascading in their wake, until his fingers were in her hair, same as hers had been in his just seconds ago, and he pulled her closer, kissing her mouth just like he’d eaten her, with presses and sucks and licks that left her lost and breathless.

  Her hands started wandering his body, feeling the slope of his shoulders again, tracing down the front of him, letting the definition of his muscles lead her down, down, down, until his hips rocked for her, begging her to touch him, to take him, and so she did, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and lifting up slowly, feeling him moan into her mouth at the same time as he arched up. He stopped kissing her and looked down, watching her hand move over him with dark eyes, then said, “I need you.”

  “I’m here,” she whispered, and he pressed in.

  He spun her quickly before she could even register it and pushed her against the shower’s glass. She gasped at the sudden chill, feeling her nipples turn to diamonds, whirling her head to look behind her where he was grabbing her ass with one hand, using the other to leverage his cock down and slide it between her legs again.

  This time, there was no teasing, no subtlety. She felt the wide head of him notch against her and then press up, stretching her to fit him, making her take him in a tight slide as he growled her name. She leaned forward, bracing her forearms against the glass to tilt her hips up to fit all of him, feeling the sharp chill of the glass against her cheek as he pulled out and then thrust again. She marveled at how the cold of the glass made the heat of the still falling water and the place where they met that much hotter, and she made a willing high-pitched sound.

  He grabbed her hips to his and found a rhythm, pulling her high enough to meet him, her rocking on tight calves and pointed toes, dragging the entire length of his cock almost out before plunging in again, landing in her with a grunt that said that she was his, that this is where he had to be. She started crying out with each thrust, unable to stop herself, wild sounds of being taken like she was some animal being mounted in the woods. He growled more at that, then ran both his hands up alongside her, reaching down to cup her small breasts in his hands and pinch and pull, using them for leverage to ram himself even more deeply. Then he moved past them, winding up her body and arms to find her own hands, clenched to fists against the glass as she tried to withstand his onslaught. His hands encircled her wrists there, keeping her trapped beneath him. It was like he was holding her there, but it was also like he was helping her to stand—helping her almost to fly—because he stepped closer, so close that each thrust was only a small rough jolt of pleasure as the head of his cock rubbed the back of her, far inside, and he bent over her, biting her shoulder as he plowed her deep. There was no way she
wasn’t going to come again, she was going to give him everything—“Damian!” she cried out, merciless shudders running through her body, as he kept her pinned by his cock against the glass. She felt him start to twitch and pull her inside as her pussy grabbed him, and he groaned.

  “Andi…fuck…Andi,” he whispered in her ear in a guttural tone, and everything was primal and right. They rocked against one another tight and grinding, each of her waves wrapping him, her channel sore and swollen and insatiable and his spasming cock wanting nothing more than to give, give, give until she was filled up and couldn’t take anymore.

  Damian pressed one of his hands flat against the glass and caught her with the other, holding her up as he finished—three more final thrusts like he couldn’t give her up, before pulling himself free with a hiss.

  “Oh, God, Andi,” he said, lifting her to him and spinning her around to hold her to his chest, the water falling over them, his cum dripping from between her legs. “Princess, what was that?” he murmured.

  She had no words. She swayed again and let him hold her. Each time they fucked, whatever common sense part of her that told her that this was impossible and such a bad idea that there was no point in chasing dreams, much less a dragon, became smaller and smaller, and if she kept doing this with him—kept letting him do this to her—then it would go away, and there would be nothing stopping her from getting hurt at all.

  Him fucking her until she was sore was one thing. She could not—would not—let him fuck over her heart.

  But his hands were at her chin, pulling her up to drift a kiss across her lips, and she couldn’t tell him no. Fuck, she could barely stand, and when he turned both of them so that she faced the shower bench and put a hand on her back so that she would bend down and hold onto it with both hands, she thought he’d seen the dazed look she surely had, like a woman trying not to pass out.

  Then he moved beside her, his hands expertly controlling the shower, pulling a sprayer off the wall to give to her on a gushing setting, where all the water welled out of the center like a fountain. She took it, breathing, trying to find herself again after giving so much up and saw him settle himself to kneel on the towel that she’d folded for him earlier, behind her.

  “Damian?” she asked him.

  “Use that on your clit,” he told her.

  “What? Why?” she asked, her mind still fuzzy as he put a hand on each of her ass cheeks and pulled her open for him, forcing her to show him her most intimate part. “Oh my God…no!” she gasped, snapping alert and dancing forward.

  “Why not?” he asked her. He wasn’t prying anymore, but she could distinctly feel the outline of where his hands lay, almost as if she’d been spanked.

  “Because!” she protested. “It’s…it’s—”

  He chuckled behind her. “Princess, nothing about you is dirty.” He slid his thumb down and he touched her there and she felt a quick spasm of attention roll through her entire body. “And everything about you is mine.”

  “We’ll see,” she panted, hesitating and unsure, as he left his thumb on that spot, gently rubbing, not pushing in in the least, just holding space, touching her soft wet skin. She let out a ragged sigh and leaned back into him, offering more of herself, and heard him rumble in response. “But Damian, you can’t go in there just yet, okay?”

  “I would never. Not without a lot of lube and patience and permission. It would be a thing we would do together—not in the heat of the moment, but planned, because we both wanted to try it.” He leaned forward, and she felt him kiss the apple of her ass at its highest point. “That said,” he went on, still rubbing the rim of her asshole with his thumb. “You’ve already done so much for me today, Andi. Just let me do this for you.”

  She swallowed, as one of his hands reached forward and brought hers into position, so that the water from the sprayer was lapping at her clit, and then both of his hands were on her ass again, pulling her completely open for him. She felt him lean forward, and then his mouth was where his thumb had just been, kissing her tight hole, and she fought not to jump.

  This was wrong. It felt so dirty. How could he want her there? A cacophony of reasons why she shouldn’t be bent over in front of him circled in her mind, but as he kept kissing her, she couldn’t help but respond to him, leaning back, letting his tongue dance in delicate circles around her edges, fearlessly flickering against her tightest point, and she felt something in her—impossibly, it seemed—wind again. She took better control of the spraying water now, making sure it was gushing up underneath her hood, and her hips bobbed, unsure if they should rock into the water to satisfy her clit, or stay angled high to be played by his tongue until she moaned.

  Damian moaned, too, in response to her. Between her legs, she could see where he was already hard again, his lonely cock straining up, until she bent over farther, and as if sensing her motive, he let go of her with one hand and sent it down to stroke himself.

  That…was hot as fuck. And it proved he wasn’t working her over with his mouth just to prove himself a good lover or out of some sense of obligation. Doing what he was doing to her now turned him on. So much so that he needed to touch himself.

  Realizing that, Andi gave herself over to the experience, breathing harder as she used the water, trapped between its stream and Damian’s relentless tongue, listening to the slick wet sounds of him pulling his thick cock faster and faster. New nerves sang, and everything felt wrong until it started feeling good, until the goodness outweighed anything she could possibly be afraid of, and she knew that there would come a time when she would trust him to let him put his tongue or fingers or anything else inside her there, as long as it kept feeling just like this. Her hips got that full-tight feeling, like something combustible inside her was going to explode, and she started writhing faster, rubbing herself against his tongue, playing herself with the water, listening to him moan as he brought himself up to the edge alongside her, and somehow, everything felt right. He was making her feel good and she was making him feel good and they were like one of those eternal world-circling snakes that bit its own tail in Nordic mythology, in some endless cycle of pleasure until she reached one hand forward to hold the bench in front of her again so that she had something to brace on and cried out in wordless passion.

  Damian growled and rose to his knees, his mouth following her through until she started to buckle, dropping the sprayer, and she turned over her shoulder in time to see him finish himself off, his hot cum spurting into the air and rolling like candle wax down his hand.

  “You came again,” she said, breathless, collapsing against the bench behind her.

  “Of course,” he said simply, looking up at her with a dark smile. “Do you know how many times I jerked off just thinking of you last week? There’s no way I’m not going to come around you now that I can, anytime I can.”

  Andi flushed, even in the heat of the shower, then guessed, “Eleven?”

  Damian laughed. “More than eleven. Less than forty. Probably.”

  She grinned and sank down to be at his level on the shower’s stone floor, and crawled into his lap, where she tucked herself against his chest and underneath his chin and pressed herself to him. His heartbeat was slow and steady, and she took great comfort in it.

  “Are you better now?” she asked him.

  He rumbled thoughtfully against her. “I will be. I’ll figure out something.”

  “You mean we’ll figure out something,” she corrected him.

  He ran his thumb down her arm that he held. “I thought saying things like that was mean.”

  “Don’t overthink it,” she warned, thumping her head against him. “But also, don’t make assumptions.”

  “Oh, I would never, princess,” he said with a soft snort, though he pulled her closer against him. “Although I think you should know it is killing me to not make some kind of assumption, ass-ump-tion joke.”

  She groaned. “If I had known eating my ass would allow you to make shitty puns, I ne
ver would’ve let you.”

  “Shitty puns, you say?” he teased, and she lightly punched him.

  “Ugh. Just…no. Don’t even.” She shuddered. “Make sure you go use mouthwash.”

  “Of course. I’m a dragon, not a monster.” He pinched her bottom gently. “Let’s get up and get clean for real and somehow not fuck again for at least twenty minutes, or until I’ve dealt with some things.”

  “Do we have to?” she asked, teasing on purpose, but she saw the look in his eyes. If she snapped her fingers, he’d follow her into the bedroom, and everything would start all over again. Hell, they might not even make it that far. She closed her eyes and drew on strength from somewhere deep within, before standing to take a real shower.

  Andi had never had a man bathe her before. She’d done sexy things in the shower with men, but none of them had ever decided that she needed to be doted on afterward. There was no point in not washing her hair again, seeing as it was all wet and probably tangled, so when his hands went for it with more of that lime and vanilla stuff, she relented, just to see what he would do. His hand traced through her hair and softly scratched her scalp and then tilted her chin and brought the sprayer over to rinse it all back. She felt rather like a horse being groomed—or a race car being detailed—and it was incredibly sexy and also just incredibly good. Sweet. Wholesome, considering everything else they’d just done.

  His hands wound around her body holding soap, cupping and massaging the muscles they’d used so strenuously earlier, until she reached that phase of being awkward, feeling silly for being spoiled, and she moved to do something similar to him when he shushed her.

  “You’ve done enough already, I promise you,” he told her, but it was hard to believe.