by M. A. Church
Avery blushed. “Maybe we can have sex in here later, then?”
“It’s going on the ever-growing list of things to do.”
Nodding, Avery moved back. “We need to distract ourselves until we get home.”
Warwick wasn’t sure anything short of another world war could distract him. He hurt with the need to claim Avery. “Any ideas?”
“Oh, you better believe it.” Avery bounced in his seat, excitement all but rolling off him. “You had wings. Wings! How the hell does that even work?”
Warwick discreetly rearranged his cock. Okay, that… that would distract him. “I’m actually glad you brought that up. There are a couple of things I need to tell you, that I meant to tell you during our date, but we got sidetracked.”
“I’ve never known of a shifter who could partially shift. But then, I’ve come to the conclusion that labeling you a shifter is incorrect.”
Warwick shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s only a label. I am what I am.”
“Something magical,” Avery breathed.
“There’s no denying there’s something magical about all of us. But am I the same as other shifters? No. Dragons can transform any part of their body. Dragons are something… more.”
“That’s what I mean. No shifter I know can do those kinds of things. I mean, if we’re stressed or angry, we can get our claws to appear. I couldn’t do it now, for example. We can make our fangs lengthen and change our eyes, but all shifters can do that. That isn’t that different.”
“Like I said, dragons are something more. I shift, same as you, but there are other things I can do that you can’t.”
“Yeah, speaking of things I can’t do… does a lightning bolt strike you every time you shift?”
Warwick resisted the inclination to squirm. “I, ah, might have been showing off a bit. I can control the weather, as you’ve obviously seen, but storms…. Those call to me. The energy, the danger… that appeals the most.”
Avery squinted. “So you don’t need to be struck to change?”
“No.”
“But you can shift that way if you want to, right?”
“I can. Think of it like this—it’s like making a grand entrance at a dinner party. I wanted your attention….”
“Wanted to impress me. And I was impressed, believe me.” Then Avery scowled at Warwick. “Also scared to death. A little warning might have been nice. I was afraid of what I was going to find when I looked back at where you’d been standing.”
“Ah, but it wouldn’t have been as impressive.”
“Ass.”
“I’ve been called that before.”
“I’m sure it won’t be the last time either.”
“Most likely not. But I do apologize for scaring you. That hadn’t been my intention.”
“Apology accepted. Now that I know you can do that, the next time I see it, it won’t scare the crap out of me. Anyway, back to things dragons can control,” Avery said.
“As you saw, I can call forth certain characteristics of my dragon form, like the claws, the wings, or making my eyes change. But I can shift by a simple blurring of my form like you.”
“Well, you might have been showing off, but it was damn impressive.”
“Thank you.” Warwick debated about the next secret he had to share with Avery. He decided it was better to tell him now rather than later, when Warwick might not be able to think quite as clearly. He was also sure Avery was going to have questions about what he had to share too. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“Oh? That sounds serious. What?”
“Not so much serious as important. Please understand, what I tell you is never to be repeated, even to your own family.”
“Oh wow. This must really be a big deal,” Avery said, fidgeting.
Warwick cleared his throat. “If this information got into the wrong hands, it could be disastrous for dragonkind.”
“That’s serious, all right. I won’t tell my family, I promise. I hate keeping secrets from them, but if it’s something that could hurt you, then I will.”
“Thank you.” Warwick took a deep breath and then released it. “At one point in our history, dragons were hunted for a particular ability we have.”
Avery’s mouth fell open. “Seriously? Hunted? I can’t imagine anybody taking you guys on.”
“Very few are willing to, but this particular ability could be considered priceless to some.” Warwick glanced at Avery. “Do you remember me telling you Clarence and LeMoyne have been with me for a long time?”
“Yes.”
“When I say a long time, I’m not exaggerating. You see, a dragon’s blood has the ability to prolong life. Indefinitely actually, but only as long as a person takes it. I want to give you my blood, Avery. I want you by my side until the very end of my life.”
Chapter Fifteen
AVERY blinked, then blinked again. A million thoughts ran through his mind, but he couldn’t grab a single one of them. What Warwick was talking about was… was…. Avery wasn’t sure he could say the words out loud.
“Avery?”
“I-I-I, ah… I, ah….”
“Does this mean you don’t want to be with me for as long as possible?”
Avery practically jumped out of his seat as he lurched closer and grabbed a fistful of Warwick’s heavy sweatshirt. “What? What? Holy shit, Warwick, you have got to stop making assumptions like that. Jeez, you dropped an atomic-sized bomb in my lap. Give me a second to get my head wrapped around it.”
“So, you’re only shocked, that’s all?”
Avery was tempted to beat his head against the nearest hard surface. “Um, that would be a yes. A yes in big, capital neon letters with exclamation marks after it.”
“Oh. Okay. You need a moment. I can understand that.” Warwick glanced away from Avery.
Avery didn’t think Warwick did, but that was neither here nor there. Plus, unless he was mistaken, he was getting treated to a dragon pouting. “No, I don’t think you do understand, but that’s okay for now. Of course, I’ll take your blood. There was never any question. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to know you won’t be left alone once I die.”
No one could have been more surprised when Warwick turned back to face Avery with tears in his eyes.
“Oh. Oh no, don’t do that. I cry really easily, and I’m talking about ugly crying too, not that Hollywood movie kind of crying where everyone looks so damn sexy.” Avery cupped Warwick’s chin. “What’s going on here?”
“I…. You…. You…. No one has ever been concerned with how I felt, or how I would cope, or what I might need. My whole life has been about protecting my hoard and, and—”
“And being alone. You told me dragons don’t generally mate, that you guys basically procreate and that’s the end of that. Werewolves mate forever, and we know immediately when we find the one. I did, and I can’t imagine what it’s been like for you to be alone for so many years. But we’re going to change that.”
“We are?”
Avery pressed a quick kiss to Warwick’s lips and sat back. “Yes, we are. And so there’s no misunderstandings, let me remind you that I will take your blood.”
“Tonight?”
Did Warwick think he’d weasel out of it? Over his dead body and anyone else’s who got in his way. “You better believe it.”
“I… thank you.”
Avery blinked tears back. He so was not going to cry, but the relieved look on Warwick’s face nearly undid him. “You don’t thank me for something like that.”
“Still.”
“Nope, it’s an honor.” Avery decided they needed to get off this topic before one or both of them lost it. “So, about my stuff from the pack house.”
Warwick huffed, then smoothed down his hair. “There’s plenty of space at our home. Pick a room and your stuff will be delivered there.”
Avery liked how Warwick referred to the castle as theirs. As he watched, Warwick pulle
d the mantle of sophistication and coolness around him. That was something else they’d work on too, but not now. “Okay.”
“Also, feel free to tell me if you want any changes made throughout the castle.”
That Warwick offered such a thing meant the world to Avery. But…. “Yeah, I don’t think so. It’s perfect the way it is… just like you.”
Was that a blush on Warwick’s face? Avery was sure it was. Instead of mentioning it, he cuddled closer to Warwick, and Warwick put his arm around Avery. The last part of the drive passed in silence, but Avery was okay with that.
Instead, in his head he replayed the Chase, purposely keeping his mind off of what was happening tonight. Seeing Warwick partially transformed had shocked him to the very tip of his paws. He was surprised that Warwick’s wings while in human form looked like his dragon’s, only significantly smaller.
They arrived, and Warwick waited for the chauffeur to open the door. Avery grabbed his overnight bag and followed Warwick into the castle. He almost stumbled when he noticed many of the servants were lined up inside the entrance despite the late hour.
Avery could clearly see the respect and honor in each servant’s face. He wasn’t surprised to hear Warwick address each one by name. The happiness he saw on the servants’ faces did surprise him, though. They didn’t know him, outside of what Warwick must have told them, but they nevertheless accepted him with open arms, and Avery meant that quite literally. Each one congratulated him on mating Warwick, then asked if they could briefly hug him. No servant in the pack house would dare touch any of the Alpha’s family.
Finally they stopped in front of a middle-aged African-American woman. Warwick introduced her as his cook, Mrs. Canfield. She was a slightly plump woman with curls escaping from a bun at the back of her head.
“Welcome, Master Avery.” Louise hugged him.
Avery took a deep breath. She smelled like apple pie and… well, his idea of home. “Oh, call me Avery, please.”
“Good luck with that,” Warwick laughed softly. “She’s as ornery as LeMoyne.”
“Please. No one can out-ornery that man.” Louise stepped back and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
Avery found himself subjected to a very thorough looking-over. Subconsciously he straightened his shoulders. The lady was intimidating, there was no doubt of that, but he didn’t sense any malicious intent in her gaze.
“Well, now, I see I’m going to have my work cut out trying to fatten you up.” Louise turned to face Warwick. “You’ll be feeding this boy, right, before you bounce on him all night?”
“Oh gods,” Avery whispered, horrified, unable to believe what came out of her mouth.
“I’m going to bounce on him first. Then we’ll eat.” Warwick snickered, glancing at Avery. “We haven’t finished the mating ritual yet, and both of us are quite anxious to get to it.”
“Paranormals.” Louise sniffed. “Fine. Maybe it would be better. I can all but feel the tension radiating off you two. Go make the boy yours, and then I’ll feed him. And I mean that, Master Warwick. Don’t you go starving that boy, or I’ll take my wood spoon to you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Absolutely. Hopefully you can find it in your heart to feed me too,” Warwick teased, then danced out of the way as she tried to swat him.
“Don’t sass me, or you’ll get rabbit food for dinner.” Louise chuckled fondly.
“Anything but that. We’ll be a couple of hours.”
“A couple… ah, to be young again. Master Avery? It was an honor to meet you. Welcome home.” She hugged him one last time, shot Warwick a meaningful glance, and walked toward the interior of the castle.
“Holy shit, that woman is a force of nature.” Avery stared at the retreating figure of Mrs. Canfield.
“Yes, she is, and I love her dearly. She’s been more of a mother to me than my own. I treasure her greatly. By the way, if you don’t eat three square meals a day, she will come after you with her wooden spoon.”
“Got it.” Avery nodded, helpless to stop himself. “Don’t ever miss a meal.”
“Indeed.”
“Is she human? She smells like it, but there’s something… I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on what’s off.”
“She sort of is. I’ll explain later.” Warwick brushed Avery’s long hair behind his ear. “Now, there’s this matter of an unfinished mating ritual that needs to be attended to immediately.” He took Avery’s overnight bag, grabbed Avery’s hand, and hustled him through the castle.
Delighted, Avery laughed as Warwick swiftly led him away. The surroundings passed in a blur, not that Avery cared this time. The sooner Warwick got them there, the better. Avery’s heart pounded as Warwick pulled him through the open door and into the bedroom. Warmth swirled around him, and he glanced at the fireplace. Someone must have lit the fire. How utterly romantic!
The covers had been turned down, and the lamps on the end tables were turned on low. Flames popped and hissed in the fireplace. As if drawn by an invisible line, Avery walked toward the bed. He ran his hand across the finely made comforter. He would be waking up there from now on. He turned back at Warwick, who stood by the now-closed door, Avery’s overnight bag by his feet.
Avery stood still, undecided what to do. Why was Warwick standing there? Shyly he looked at Warwick, who stared back, his purple eyes glowing slightly.
Avery’s eyes burned, but he blinked the sudden rush of tears away. Warwick was his. His. Finding out Warwick’s blood would extend his life was possibly the best thing he’d ever heard, because he wanted him forever.
Warwick stirred things in him Avery hadn’t known existed. From almost the moment he saw Warwick, he knew Warwick was going to be very important to him. Avery’s emotions boiled inside him. It seemed like he’d waited a life time for somebody like Warwick.
Avery held out his hand. “Why are you dressed, and why are you over there?”
Warwick stalked across the floor toward Avery, power in every step. Avery’s throat tightened, and he blinked rapidly at the beautiful predator coming at him. Thank all the gods his father had defaulted on that loan, otherwise he might not have ever met Warwick and found his happy ever after.
He trembled as Warwick drew nearer. Stopping next to him, Warwick rubbed his thumb across Avery’s lips before letting his fingers trail down his chin, where he gently wrapped his hand around Avery’s throat. Avery shivered. He could breathe perfectly fine—Warwick wasn’t choking him—but he could feel the strength in Warwick’s hand. It thrilled him. The feeling of Warwick’s power was ancient.
Warwick stroked his fingers down Avery’s throat, then trailed them down to the neck of Avery’s shirt. Warwick undid the material button by button, spreading the two halves open, baring skin.
Avery groaned from the silky feel of his shirt slithering across his skin. How thrilling. He felt sexy, decadent. Mentally he repeated to himself that he wasn’t going to get emotional. Red-nosed and teary-eyed was most definitely not the image he was going for here.
“Okay?”
“A little nervous, but more horny.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I wish you could see yourself. Such sensuality.”
Avery did feel desired—incredibly so. And loved. The thought was shocking, but it wasn’t unusual for those types of feelings to appear so quickly once a werewolf found his mate. He reached out, needing to touch. He brushed his hand across Warwick’s muscular chest. So strong. So firm. He wanted the material gone.
“Kiss me, please,” he whispered, seeking Warwick’s lips.
A second later Warwick pressed his lips to Avery’s, the kiss sweet and soft. Avery squirmed. Lost in the sensation, he opened immediately, and Warwick’s tongue swept inside, exploring. Sweetness gave way to demanding. Softness became insistence.
Suddenly Warwick buried his hand in Avery’s hair and jerked. Avery’s scalp tingled deliciously, and he moaned, his throat exposed as Warwick tilted his head back. He shivered as Warwick nipped the delic
ate skin. More. He wanted more.
“Please.”
“Shhh. Take what I give you.”
Warwick let go of his hair and pulled him closer, growling softly. Avery wrapped his arms around Warwick and bared his throat for Warwick to nibble further. The sharp little bites inflamed him, and he ground his hard cock against Warwick’s. He moaned softly in disappointment when Warwick stopped the playful bites, but quickly got over it when Warwick pressed his warm, firm lips to Avery’s again. By all the gods, the man could kiss.
The kiss was like the man himself, strong and confident, but there was a hint of need, of longing. He whimpered helplessly when Warwick feathered his long fingers over his nipples. Chill bumps exploded on his arms as the hard nubs were rolled, driving him crazy.
Avery rose to his toes when his nipples were pinched, and squirmed as the sweet zing of pain flooded his system. Warwick thrust his hard-on against his, and with one last swipe of his agile tongue, he released Avery’s mouth. Warwick rubbed his knuckles against a nipple, and Avery grunted. The grunt turned into a moan when Warwick brushed his fingers across Avery’s stomach.
Avery pulled away, afraid this would be over before it began. He might not have much experience regarding sex, but he was dying to get a taste of Warwick. He dropped his hands to Warwick’s zipper and looked up at him. “Please?”
“I’d be a fool to tell you no, and I’m no fool.”
Avery unzipped Warwick’s jeans and shoved them down as far as they could go. He sank to his knees and stared at Warwick’s shaft. It bounced, almost as if daring him to suck it. Warwick’s cock was like the rest of him—long and lean. He grasped Warwick’s shaft and leisurely stroked it, pleased to hear Warwick hiss above him.
“Suck it. I need to feel your mouth on me.”
Unable to resist the gentle command, Avery dropped his mouth over Warwick’s length. He loved how Warwick tasted—salty and a little like chocolate. Hard and hot too. Silken skin over rigid steel. Avery bobbed his head, then glanced up. Warwick’s face was flushed with passion. He was beautiful, and all his.
