Dragon Collector (Dragon Hoard Book 2)

by Minerva Howe

  “I’m back to wanting you keenly, love. You excite me. But I know you’re upset.” He petted Oliver’s cheek, then his neck.

  “You can apologize by making me come so hard I forget my own name.” Oliver slowly scooted over, straddling his thighs.

  “I can absolutely do that.” He opened Ollie’s robe, relief making his fingers fumble a tiny bit. He righted that quickly, baring his lover to his gaze.

  “We’ll make mistakes, E. It happens.” Oliver pushed close, body demanding that he touch, that he make his lover need.

  He stroked down to Oliver’s chest, then pinched one little nipple, listening to Ollie’s gasp. “You’re good to me, love. I’ll make you feel so wonderful.”

  Ollie nodded and arched, offering himself for more touches, more pinches.

  Eagan gave everything he could. He licked at Ollie’s lips, then kissed him again, pushing deep as he plucked at the other nipple, then dropped his hand to stroke Ollie’s cock.

  Oliver shoved his robe open, exposing Eagan’s stiffening cock.

  Preening a bit, Eagan rolled his hips, making Ollie hang on, bringing them together chest to chest. That fine, hot skin was against his and the world righted itself again.

  Ollie stroked him, rubbing his tip and making him dizzy with the lightning that shot down his prick. His balls pulled up a little, and he felt steam building up in his chest.

  “M-more.” He rumbled the word, flicking his fingers against the crown of Ollie’s cock.

  “Yes.” Ollie jacked him, the touch rough and hungry, making his eyes cross.

  “Sweet love.” He nibbled at Ollie’s ear, then his collarbone. “I want to taste all of you.”

  Oliver knelt up high, rubbing his bare cock over his slick hole, and he bit out a cry. “Oliver! Be sure!”

  “You won’t hurt me. I’m still wet.”

  He wanted to wait, but he couldn’t. Eagan had to take Ollie at his word, so he lined up his cock and slid home. Perfect. Oliver was his perfect fit.

  Oliver’s head snapped back, his lover crying out in sheer need. “Yes!”

  “Oliver.” He growled, his dragon roaring its triumph in his head. “More. Ride me, love.”

  Oliver began to move, panting as he rode, almost losing Eagan’s prick before sinking back down. He was bouncing, and Eagan was pushing up, and together they found their rhythm.

  His. Oliver was his, inside and out.

  His hands wrapped around Oliver’s hips, dragging Ollie down, over and over again, so he could fill his mate. Every time he pounded Ollie’s hot spot, his lover cried out, his voice ragged and loud.

  He forced himself to keep his eyes open, to watch every single second. Ollie was so beautiful with his hair trailing down, having come loose again. The stuff floated around them, and he had to reach up with one hand to stroke it.

  “Soft. You’re soft.”

  Ollie chuckled. “So not.”

  Eagan had to chuckle. “No, that’s true.” Ollie’s cock was bobbing and leaking a little from the red tip. It tempted him to touch too, so he let go of that silky hair to rub Ollie’s dick up and down.

  Oliver’s sweet ass tightened so fast that his teeth clacked together. Fuck.

  All he could do was grunt and thrust harder, faster, giving them the friction they needed. He stroked base to tip, his hand meeting Oliver’s balls.

  “Eagan. Eagan, please!”

  Oh, he could live for the sound of Ollie’s begging.

  “Soon, love.” He hoped Ollie understood, because his words came out guttural. He could feel his orgasm along his spine, though, from the tip of his tail to the top of his horns.

  Oliver nodded and slammed down, driving on his cock like a banshee.

  He could feel a gush of slick wetness from Ollie and he almost screamed. His lover was ready. Oh, he’d waited so long for that and it was happening. Could Ollie feel it? He hoped so.

  Eagan slammed into Ollie over and over, then groaned as his balls emptied, his seed filling Oliver deep.

  Oliver groaned, rocking hard on his jerking prick. “Touch me. Touch me. I need you. Now.”

  Eagan took Ollie’s cock in both hands, stroking up and down, squeezing at the base. “Come for me, love. I want to feel it, see it. Come.”

  Oliver gasped, eyes flashing a bright, solid gold for a single heartbeat. Yes. Yes, his love.

  Then Oliver’s back arched almost impossibly, that long hair brushing down Eagan’s shin. He shot, coating Eagan’s chest and belly with his seed. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful, not even the first time his lover had come for him.

  Oliver whimpered softly, panting through his orgasm.

  They sat there, Ollie leaning on his chest, for what seemed like seconds and hours both. Then he rose gently to carry Ollie to the bathroom for a nice, steamy shower. Though Ollie’s building was too old to have a good water heater. It worked well enough since they shared.

  Oliver held on, trusting him implicitly.

  Then they were back in bed, and he thought this time it had gone much, much better. And Oliver’s bed was lovely and warm, with a handmade quilt and a comforter.

  Oliver curled into him, snuggling into his chest with a soft sigh.

  “My Oliver.” He stroked Oliver’s back with one hand.

  “Missed you, E. Can you stay for the night? I’ll feed you later.”

  “I can and will.” He nuzzled Ollie’s cheek. “I need to hold you.”

  “Same here. I’ve been lonely.”

  “You should have called me. Anytime you need me, you know, I’ll come.” That was the honest truth. He would always run to Ollie.

  “I don’t want to be clingy. Well, now I do. Let’s nap, E. Let’s rest together.”

  “Anything you like, love.” He would indulge them in a takeout feast later, and there would be more wondrous lovemaking, but for now, they would float, and enjoy being together.

  2

  Eagan was a damned addiction.

  That was the only reasonable, sensible answer, because otherwise, why would he be thinking about the dragon constantly? Oh, Oliver was in love, no doubt about it, but he went hot and cold, needing his space because of what Eagan wanted from him.

  Oliver made himself a cup of English Breakfast with lemon and sat, looking down at the street in front of the bookstore. He knew why his best friend and business partner Devon had loved this apartment. It was tiny, but you could people watch. There was the diner a ways down, what they would have called a news agent back in the day across the way, and a vintage furniture place whose owner was just setting out a couple of mid-century tables in front of to entice people in.

  It was early morning, so the street wasn’t busy yet, and he knew he would be closing the shop today to go play with Eagan. He didn’t want to say no to the offer to go to estate sales, then go back to the huge house with all its treasures in the mansion section of Denver. He loved that silly house, dripping with gingerbread and wildly colored eaves and buttresses.

  Inside, though, was the wonderland. Eagan had books aplenty for him to explore, but he also had two secret rooms, one hidden servants’ passage and staircase, and rooms and rooms full of oddities and antiques from medieval to twentieth century.

  It also held Eagan at his most relaxed and happy. He knew Eagan was ecstatic to be back with his brothers these days, but that mansion was his den.

  He thought the idea of Eagan moving to the big house in the mountains was wrong. If Eagan stayed close, Oliver could see him often, at least until Eagan found his dragon mate.

  Then their love affair would be over. That was the main reason to keep the bookshop, the apartment. And the reason he hid from Eagan sometimes. He’d seen Brand and Devon together. He’d seen Devon pregnant. Hell, he’d seen Devon all lizardy.

  That wasn’t him.

  He wasn’t some magical beast. He was a man, for better or worse. One who wore glasses and tripped over his own feet.

  Just a dude. But he had good hair.


  Ollie snorted, then sipped his tea, which always calmed him down. The problem was he loved Eagan so much, and it might kill, not him literally, but his spirit when Eagan broke it off with him. Which would happen. There were prophecies and shit about dragon mates and babies and more.

  Still, he never could seem to tell the man no.

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced at it where it lay on the windowsill, a text coming in.

 

  Oh, bless Halle. She was supposed to be off today, but if she came in even part time, the store could stay open and he would feel less guilty. There were very few walk-ins, and to miss a Saturday when they were most likely seemed wrong, somehow.

 

 

  She was a treasure. She was also single right now, and he knew how much that sucked on the weekends. He sipped his tea again, his world already righting himself. Ollie knew he was a practical man. His limits were his limits, and someday, Eagan would see that.

  If he didn’t, eventually Eagan’s true other half would show up, and there would be more little dragon babies.

  He had to admit, Arielle was so cute. A little bitey, maybe…

  Still, Ollie wasn’t a dragon, so… It just didn’t matter. He would have to fade out of Devon’s life when Eagan mated too, which was sad. But he wouldn’t be able to bear being the bachelor uncle to Eagan’s kids.

  He jumped almost out of his skin when Eagan slid up against his back, arms circling him. “Mmm. Morning, love.”

  “Good morning, E.” He leaned back into Eagan with a hum. “Did you sleep okay?”

  “I did.” One hand slipped down to rest on his lower belly. “I didn’t have to dream, because you were there.”

  Romantic. “You’re wonderfully warm. Beautifully.”

  “I was soaking up your heat all night, love. How are you this morning?” Eagan kissed his neck.

  “Good. Thoughtful. I was people watching and drinking tea. Would you like a sip?” He didn’t want to get up, make one for Eagan.

  “Please.” Eagan took the cup and had a bit. “Very nice, love. So, who’s doing what to whom this morning?”

  “It’s been quiet. Halle is coming in after a bit.” He told Eagan about the news, about what he’d seen on social media—normal things. He didn’t tell Eagan what he’d been musing about. He did have some secrets.

  Eagan’s attention was focused, making him feel so important. Special. Then Eagan gave him a squeeze. “What do you want for breakfast, love?”

  One thing he’d learned; dragons were always hungry. Always. Devon had told him all about when he’d first gotten pregnant and ate the entire fridge in an hour one night, sitting on the floor and gnawing turkey meat off bones.

  “There’s a breakfast place down the street.” He pointed at the neon sign. “Pancakes, sausage, bacon, omelets. You can feast.” They had a lovely cinnamon roll and coffee too. That was far more Oliver’s speed in the morning.

  “Sounds perfect. Then we can head out to the wilds of the estate sales.” Eagan held him close, not in any hurry, he thought.

  “We can. Should I pack a bag for the weekend?” Ollie wanted to stay with Eagan, love on him, sleep with him. He was done hiding for this round, he supposed.

  “Yes.” He got a reward for that, Eagan turning him around for a proper kiss. “That sounds like the best plan.”

  “It does. I was hoping you’d say yes.” Ollie snuggled in, his body melting as it always did when Eagan kissed him. He could just flow into his dragon and stay right there.

  “I would never say no to you, love.” Eagan rubbed their noses together, and he smelled Earl Grey and a little smoky flavored steam.

  “Mmm…good morning.” He couldn’t stop smiling. Eagan made him so damned happy when he just went with things. Why did he have to think so much? Why couldn’t he be a dragon, like Devon had turned out to be?

  “Should we shower again?” Eagan sniffed him, then set his tea aside, leading him to the bathroom. “You smell fine, but we have time.”

  “You just like rubbing against me in the water,” he teased.

  “I do. It makes me happy. Well, and I like steam. I’m the water baby of the three brothers.” Eagan laughed with him, then grabbed his ass, making him peep.

  “You hate my hot water heater, though.” He laughed, draping towels over the radiator.

  “It is old.” Eagan got the water going, then tugged him into the shower. “Still, I get to be warm and happy with you, so it’s good. We’ll use the hot tub at my house, hmm?”

  He got a full-color image in his head of Eagan taking his ass in said hot tub, leaning him over the side and pounding into him. Okay, yes. He did love the bubbles and the way everything was so…buoyant.

  “I’m totally in.” Or Eagan could be. God, that was a lovely thought. Eagan. In him. That cock was…he could write odes.

  “Wonderful.” They showered as leisurely as his water heater let them, then dressed to head off for breakfast.

  The diner smelled like heaven, and Ollie thought he heard Eagan growl with approval when they entered.

  “You’ll love the Denver omelet. The pancakes are good too.” He found them a booth for two, in the back. Sweet.

  “Then I’ll have to try both.”

  “They totally let you sub pancakes for toast.” Though he knew Eagan would eat the lumberjack special, as he called it. Eagan looked so trim and spare, especially compared to his oldest brother Tyson, but being a dragon must use a ton of calories. He could feast.

  Oliver would be happy with a cinnamon roll and a bite of Eagan’s hash browns, really. And the coffee with cream and sugar.

  “Hey, Oliver.” That was Kevin, a waiter he’d known since they’d opened the bookstore. “Coffee?”

  “Please. For both of us.” He smiled. “You look good, man.”

  “Thanks. Had my three-year check-up last week. Cancer free.”

  “Excellent!” He high fived the waiter with a grin. “I’m so pleased for you. Congratulations!” He did love good news.

  “Oh, congratulations.” Eagan clapped his hands. “That’s cause for celebration.”

  “It is! Who is this stud?”

  How would he introduce Eagan? It wasn’t like he could say, “Kev, Dragon. Dragon, Kevin. Don’t eat him.” “Kev, this is my lover, Eagan. Eagan, this is Kevin, the best waiter in the state.”

  “Hello, Kevin. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “Hey!” Kevin shook Eagan’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you too. Ollie never needs a menu but let me get you one. Butter pecan pancakes are the special this a.m.”

  He heard Eagan’s belly snarl, and he chuckled. “I bet he’ll get those.”

  “Good deal. Be back with coffee.” Kev handed Eagan a menu.

  “It all looks so good,” Eagan said after perusing it. “I do love a diner.”

  “This one is great. Tasty, simple, good people.”

  “That’s the best kind. I think the Denver omelet with extra hash browns, the pecan pancakes, and an English muffin so I can try the jam, which they say is homemade.”

  “You can even buy jars if you like it,” Ollie pointed out.

  “Excellent. We’ll need some for tomorrow morning.” Eagan beamed. “We’ll buy bread and make eggs together.”

  “Yum.” He would mostly have toast. He needed more protein, he’d been told, but he loved his carbs.

  Eagan leaned on his elbows, which Ollie thought was so cute for his usually dignified dragon. “So, what have you read that you loved of late?” Those eyes glowed with interest for him. In him.

  “I’m on a Sherlock Holmes kick right now. Murder mysteries, Victorian parlors, lots of tea.” He winked over. “There are some real charmers.”

  “Oh, did I tell you about the audio of the Sherlock Holmes compilation? Stephen Fry reads, I believe. We’ll have to listen.”
>
  They chatted the various Sherlocks between ordering and sipping coffee, and when the food came, he had a nibble here and there of Eagan’s while cutting his cinnamon roll into bite-size pieces. This was his dream life.

  He fed Eagan a bite of sweet, smiling at the low moan. “Should we get a half-dozen to go? For a midnight snack.”

  “Possibly for in the car on the way home,” Eagan agreed. “Shall we strategize? The first sale we’re hitting has books for you. Some old volumes, I hear tell, and I know a few of your key competitors are out of town at that Chicago auction.”

  Ollie wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. Old medical books. Such a small market for them. Better to let them squabble over them.”

  He was mostly interested in fiction. Devon was much more fascinated by the illustrated volumes, but he wanted the stories, to protect the art of storytelling. He believed everything had witness marks—from clocks to books to furniture to people.

  “I think this sale will be of interest to you. There’s another closer to my house that has a collection of Spode I want to explore, but nothing I can’t live without, so we’ll hit it last.” Eagan had things neatly mapped out on his phone.

  “Anything else, guys?” Kev asked, so they ordered their cinnamon rolls to go.

  “I’ll grab my bag, tell Halle that I’m off until Monday for sure, and we can get on the road.” Oliver felt light, like he could bounce away on the wind.

  Eagan took his hand for a moment, then went to pay, whistling some old tune.

  “I’ll meet you at the shop downstairs!” He hurried to pack a bag, plus one decent sweater. It was always colder at Eagan’s.

  Eagan met him at the bookshop, and he saw Halle had come in to open, and that Eagan had given her a cinnamon roll.

  “Hey, lady. We’re off for the weekend, maybe Monday, but we’re closed Monday, anyway right?”

  “We are. You want me to keep training with Lain, right?”

  “Please. He needs a lot more confidence handling calls and finding mail orders before he moves on.”

  “Don’t worry, Ollie. Go have fun. Play.”

  “I hope to.” He winked at Halle. He trusted her. When Devon had basically disappeared to Brand’s, she’d been solid as a rock.