Marked by the Dragon [The Dragon of Skye 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Doris O'Connor

  “That’s my very good girl. I want you to fly. Ride me and let go, wee one.” He grasped both elongated nipples, shiny with his saliva, and pulled hard.

  Kerry did not disappoint. She ground her hips down on his groin, and mouth open, she panted her release as her body shook and trembled until she finally collapsed against him. Not a moment too soon, because a grinning Miri appeared in the living room, followed by a scowling Mark. Duncan glared right back at the other man while he pulled his lass closer into him. No fucking way was he going to let anyone else see her tits.

  “See, I told you they’d work it out. Just in time too, because I’m starving, and I might actually get to eat in peace, as Maddock has consented to sleep in his crib for now.”

  Kerry froze in his arms, and he swore softly under his breath. Tipping her chin up to make her look at him, he kissed her forehead and whispered words of reassurance.

  “It’s all right. They can’t see. You’re beautiful, my love.”

  Chapter Eight

  Oh my God, what have I done?

  Duncan’s murmured words registered over the roar in her ears, and they helped to calm her heartbeat a fraction. Especially as she could see the sincerity in his eyes. Swirling with the now-familiar yellow flames of his dragon—oh, lord, dragons are real—they pulled her under his spell. She instinctively leaned in closer. With his overbearing muscle mass and his huge arms wrapped around her, he was her very own dragon shield.

  “That’s my lass. I’ve got you. We’ll go over there when you’re ready.”

  His hot breath carried with it the scent of his dragon. She recognized it now, that elusive smell of smoke, which she’d noticed from the first moment she’d met him. It had made no sense then, yet made perfect sense now. Closing her eyes, she took a deep sniff, and she smiled at his dragon’s immediate rumble in response.

  “Stop doing that, or so help me, I’ll carry you off to finish what we started, and fuck the food. It can wait.”

  His voice held a distinctive edge, one that told how much this little interlude had cost him. But then, she knew that. His cock was a hard ridge under her ass, and he felt enormous. Her heart beat faster at that thought, her pussy clenched anew, and she gasped at the tingles that spread outward until she was panting in need again. She oughtn’t to be this excited, not when her body was still singing in delicious aftershocks from that orgasm he’d so effortlessly wrung from her.

  How did he do that? Kerry knew her nipples were sensitive. She loved them played with during sex, but never before had she come from nipple stimulation alone. Neither had she lost herself so completely that she had ridden him like some sex-starved nympho, oblivious to her surroundings. Was this what being mated to him meant? This need to touch him, to sniff and lick, as she was doing now? Mortified at her actions, Kerry pulled back when she realized she was indeed licking his neck. The beard-roughened skin felt coarse under her tongue, but she simply had to taste him. By God, she wanted to sink her teeth into skin and mark him. What in the ever-loving hell was that about?

  Judging by the way his chest shook in silent laughter, he didn’t mind her actions. She bit back a moan that would have done any porn star proud when he tucked her back into her clothes, then effortlessly stood up with her still clinging to him like a vine.

  “It would help the whole eating scenario if you let go of me, wee one.” This time the amusement in his voice was obvious, and while she couldn’t hear what Miri was saying to her husband, she heard their joined laughter.

  Oh, could this get any more embarrassing? Duncan kissed her again, a mere brush of his lips over hers, but a kiss that further scrambled her brains, and then he slowly slid her down his front. When she was somewhat steady on her feet, he let go of her, interlinked their hands, and pulled her over to the dining table, which was now filled with several covered food dishes. Miri smiled at her as they approached, and lifted the lids off the dishes. The resulting delicious smells assaulting her nostrils made her stomach growl, and Miri laughed out loud.

  “Come sit. I dare say you’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

  She winked at Kerry, and despite the dreaded heat in her cheeks—damn her propensity for blushing like a freaking schoolgirl—that action soothed some of the nervous butterflies that had taken up residence in her belly. Duncan let go of her hand to pull out a chair for her, and she gratefully fell into it, helped along by his push on her shoulder. He sat next to her and then filled her wineglass with water from the jug on the table.

  “Oh, spoilsport, give the girl some alcohol. She looks as though she needs it.” Miri waved a bottle of Pinot Grigio at him and was just about to pour herself some when Mark stopped her.

  “I don’t think so, pet.” Miri pouted but put up no resistance when her husband took the bottle off of her and proceeded to pour her some water, too.

  “Think of the bairn.”

  Miri rolled her eyes, which earned her a stare that made Kerry squirm in her seat. Duncan reached across to put his large hand on her thigh in a silent message of ownership, which gave her a ridiculously warm glow inside. Lord only knew why this felt so right. She ought to put up more of a resistance, surely. What had happened to all of her resolve to not get involved with someone she worked for? It seemed to have dissipated into thin air. Then again, she’d fought this attraction since the moment she’d stepped into Duncan’s shop, and she simply didn’t want to anymore. Couldn’t, truth be told, and that had nothing to do with the astonishing revelation that dragons were real or that the man she felt so inexplicably drawn to shifted into one. Try as she might, she couldn’t channel her earlier terror. Only awe remained, and this need to submit to him in all ways.

  “Miri still likes to live dangerously, I see. How high is her tally now, Mark?” Duncan drawled the words, snapping her out of her internal debate with herself. He heaped a generous ladle of what looked like stew onto Kerry’s plate. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious, and her stomach growled again.

  “High enough, and if she carries on like this, feeding the bairn is going to be very uncomfortable for her, because she won’t be able to sit down.”

  Mark sat next to a grinning Miri and proceeded to put some food on her plate in much the same way as Duncan had done for Kerry.

  “Hah, all talk and no action, Sir.” Miri batted her eyelashes at Mark, and his snarl in answer made Kerry jump. Miri simply laughed and started to eat.

  “God, this is good,” she said between mouthfuls of food. “Go on, eat. I didn’t cook it if that’s what has you worried. Lord knows I can’t cook for toffee, but the clans brought this along to celebrate the wee bairn, who by the way…” She paused, waved her spoon in the air at Mark, and stuck her tongue out at him. “…is perfectly able to cope with a trace of wine in his milk, Sir.”

  Without missing a beat, she resumed eating, and Duncan laughed as he too tucked into his bowl of stew. Kerry’s lips twitched. In truth, her acceptance of this surreal situation had a lot to do with seeing Miri’s easy rapport with her husband. It was obvious they loved each other to distraction, and that yearning deep inside her psyche grew. Kerry wanted this, and maybe, just maybe—she risked a glance at Duncan from under her eyelashes, to find him smiling at the couple opposite them—she would find that with him.

  “I know he can, wife, but you haven’t drunk in months, and I want you in full control of your faculties. I’m sure Duncan and Kerry won’t mind looking after Maddock for a wee while, while I teach my unruly sub some manners.”

  There was no mistaking the underlying threat in that statement, not that Miri seemed perturbed. Her eyes positively gleamed in excitement.

  “Now that is an excellent point. I hadn’t thought of that.” She shoveled a few more forkfuls into her mouth and then shot up from her seat like an overeager puppy. Kerry smiled around her own mouthful of food, which she was eating at a much more sedate pace. Questions tumbled around in her brain, but she kept quiet for now, reassured by Duncan’s quiet presence next to her. />
  “I’m done.” Miri bounced on the soles of her feet.

  Mark didn’t take much notice of her, and Duncan squeezed Kerry’s thigh again in what seemed like a silent warning. Not that Kerry had any notion to interfere in what was clearly the start of a scene. She kept her gaze focused on her food instead, and Duncan’s hand inched higher on her thigh until it was perilously close to her pussy. His heat branded her, and without any conscious effort on her part, she opened her legs wider. When he didn’t take her up on her silent invitation, she glanced over at him to see his lips curve into a lopsided grin.

  “It seems your sub wants something, Mark,” he said.

  “Hmm, so it would seem. She has clearly forgotten all of her manners, which is a shame, especially as the wee one is fast asleep.”

  Miri made a rough sound at the back of her throat, and in a move so fast Kerry would’ve missed it had she blinked, the other woman sank to her knees next to her husband’s chair. Arms clasped behind her back, legs spread wide, gaze focused on his shoes, she assumed the age-old submissive pose with an inherent grace Kerry could only admire. Witnessing this obvious power exchange in a D/s couple made her chest tight with longing. It also brought back the sneering face of her ex, and she hastily pushed that nasty thought back into the box in which it belonged. This was completely different from the farcical excuse of a relationship she’d had with him.

  “She hasn’t lost all of them, I see. And you know it would be a shame to miss such an excellent opportunity.” Duncan reached for his glass and took a long swallow. “My sub and I will indeed be happy to babysit.” He squeezed her thigh again and this time moved his hand up to cup her pussy.

  Kerry lost her grip on her fork. The resulting clang against her dish sounded far too loud in the quiet room.

  Mark gave a short laugh, and Kerry swallowed nervously when she found herself at the receiving end of two pairs of male dragon eyes.

  “So, she has agreed then?” Mark asked.

  “Answer the man, lass.” Duncan’s voice held that deep edge of command, which spoke to her submissive side like nothing else could.

  “Yes, Sir.” She grimaced at the breathy quality of her reply. Mark smiled, drained the rest of his wineglass dry, and tipped his chair back on two legs.

  “What exactly are you agreeing to, lassie? As you’re in my house, and I vouched to the elders that you would be taken care of come what may, I really need to hear you spell it out for me.”

  The deep, annoyed growl coming from Duncan’s chest made her look over at him. She gasped at the sight of the blue flames that shimmered around him. She didn’t need to look down to know her leg and groin were also encased in that fascinating phenomenon. One she was fast beginning to realize was the outer manifestation of his dragon’s emotions. While heat licked across her skin—in a far-too-arousing way—she knew instinctively that she wouldn’t burn.

  Where the deep-seated knowledge, this utter certainty that Duncan wouldn’t hurt her, came from Kerry had no idea. She just felt the truth of it right down to her bones.

  “You did ring them then,” Duncan said. His grasp on her tightened, the heat increased, and Kerry fidgeted on her seat. She couldn’t help it, because that heat nudged her state of arousal up a few degrees. She would leave a wet stain on her jeans at this rate. Then again, with the amount of heat they generated between them, maybe steam would soon rise from between her legs.

  She laughed out loud at that thought, and squirmed some more because all three of the dragons in the room were now looking at her. Miri frowned from her position on the floor.

  Kerry mouthed a quick sorry, and the other woman nodded and dropped her gaze to the floor again.

  “Care to explain what is amusing you, lass?” Kerry flinched at the steel behind Duncan’s words.

  “Nothing, Sir.”

  Approval shimmered in his amazing eyes, softened the harsh angles of his face, as he studied her, and warmth spread through Kerry from knowing that she had pleased him with her answer.

  “You’re not going to ask me about the clans?”

  “No, Sir. If it’s something I need to know about, I’m sure you will tell me in good time. I trust you, Sir.”

  The truth of that statement took her breath away, as did Duncan’s reaction. His smile lit up his face, and she couldn’t help but grin back at him, which no doubt made her look utterly foolish. She couldn’t bring herself to care, however, not when this just felt so right.

  Mark cleared his throat, and Duncan’s attention shifted to the other man. Kerry too looked across, to see Miri’s husband smiling at them both.

  “Well, I guess that answers my earlier question. I’m glad you two are working this out.” He sobered, and Kerry breathed a sigh of relief that the intensity of his gaze was directed at Duncan.

  “I had to inform the elders, as you well know. For what it’s worth they’ve given their approval, especially as she’s marked.” He glanced at Kerry and smiled when she stared back at him blankly. “Even if she weren’t, she’s given her consent, so that’s good enough for me. You know where everything is. If Maddock wakes up, there’s some expressed milk in the fridge. He may or may not take that. If he doesn’t, come and find us. Otherwise, I’ll see you two in the morning. I have a sub to torture, so excuse me.”

  Mark pushed away from the table and snapped his fingers. Miri got up and followed him.

  Duncan exhaled sharply and then grasped Kerry’s chin to make her look at him. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip and smiled.

  “You must have questions, so ask them. I’ll do my best to answer.”

  Kerry blinked, and he let go of her, got up, and walked over to the kitchen island to set some fresh coffee to brew. Taking the hint, Kerry too got up and proceeded to clear the leftover food away. Duncan joined her, and they worked quietly side by side until the last dish had been stacked in the dishwasher and the hiss and spit of the coffee maker signaled the end of its cycle. Duncan proceeded to pour them each a mug and then watched her from over the rim of his own one.

  Arms crossed over his massive chest, with his delectable ass resting against the kitchen worktop, he looked good enough to eat. He also looked very human with no sign of his dragon anywhere. No flames of any kind, no forked tongue or reptile eyes, and even his scent wasn’t as strong as it had been. It was almost as though she’d imagined the previous events, were it not for the sheer power and strength in those coiled muscles, the careful, undivided attention with which he studied her, and the waves of possessive lust that she picked up loud and clear. They made her fidget in a futile attempt to relieve the ache in her clit and the throbbing pulse between her legs, which made her want to sink to her knees and offer herself to him.

  Saliva gathered in her mouth, and she swallowed hard when her gaze snared on his groin. The hard, long imprint of his cock was clearly visible, and she was suddenly desperate to taste him.

  “You’re thinking mighty hard there, wee one. Care to share some of those thoughts with your Dom?”

  A shiver went through her from hearing him refer to himself as her Dom. To mask her reaction, she took a deep gulp of her coffee and winced at the burn going down her throat.

  “Silly lassie, I have the asbestos mouth, not you.” Before she could react, he was on top of her, tugging the mug out of her hand and holding a glass of ice-cold water for her to sip on. Lord knows how he got hold of that so quickly. Then again, he was a dragon, and common folklore stated they had something called magick, so…

  “Can you do magic?” She blurted the question out before she could stop herself, and heat rose in her cheeks when Duncan threw his head back and laughed.

  “As in silly magic tricks, you mean, like you see on the TV?”

  Not trusting her voice to work, she simply nodded. Duncan flicked her nose in response.

  “No, sweetheart, we can’t.” That unexpected endearment gave her a nice warm glow inside, and her previous embarrassment fled. “Well, I suppose we could, but t
hat would be a waste of our talents. Besides, most of what humans would call magic is simply sleight of hand, clever lighting, and fast reflexes. Drop your water, go on.”

  Kerry couldn’t see the point in that, but she dutifully let go. Duncan caught it almost the second she’d let it slip from her fingers, and smiling at her astonished expression, he put the glass on the counter next to them.

  “Like all shifters, a dragon has reflexes much faster than a human’s. We also have the ability to affect the light around us and how it reflects so that we appear invisible, like this.”

  He waved his hand, and Kerry gasped when the large appendage seemingly disappeared into thin air. It hadn’t, of course. He demonstrated that quite effectively by stroking what felt like an invisible, calloused fingertip along her jaw. His eyes softened when she leaned into his touch and her breathing sped up.

  The air shimmered and his hand was visible again. He had also changed clothes, as had she.

  How the hell did he do that?

  The little summer dress she was now wearing should be hanging in her cupboard back at the flat in Inverness, not making the girls look as though they were in danger of spilling out of the far-too-low neckline. The dress had been a never-worn impulse buy because it was really too small for her, and she’d felt uncomfortable with all her curves on such display, especially as the spaghetti straps meant she couldn’t wear her usual scaffolding.

  Duncan didn’t seem to have that problem, because he slid his index finger lower until it skimmed over the top of her breasts.

  “Beautiful, you should wear clothes like these more often. Just one more thing.” Another flick of his hand meant her knickers disappeared, and she shrieked in surprise.

  “We also have the ability to teleport small objects, such as clothing. A very handy tool to have when your little subbie chooses to hide her luscious body from you.”

  His grin grew positively sinful as he leaned down so that her entire vision was filled by him, then inhaled sharply.