Falling for the Dragon_A Bad Boy Romance

by Scott Wylder

  “You’re tight, slave. I think the strap-on will work better for both of us.”

  Soon she was thrusting into him rhythmically, her end of the dildo working magic on her insides and her clit. She climaxed twice but didn’t stop. Gripping his dick, which she had purposely left untouched, she could feel the throb in his shaft with every thrust of her hips.

  “Mistress, may I come, please?”

  She gripped him hard enough to give a little pain. “No. I’ve not had my full pleasure, slave.” She thrust into him a few more times and then withdrew. As she took off the strap-on, she was pleased to see that her own juices flowed down her thighs.

  The session continued until Tank was begging for release. When she finally rewarded him, he came so hard she thought he would pass out.

  Afterward, she offered him the use of her shower, which he declined. She made small talk for about twenty minutes and then had had enough.

  The feeling fluttering in her chest was guilt. That was a feeling that was completely foreign to Jayda. Tank was in the middle of telling her about his new home-based job when Jayda stood and held up a hand for him to stop.

  “Tank, I’m really glad we hooked up today, but I have something I need to do. But it was really good to see you again.” She tried to smile, but nausea stole the expression and she gripped the counter to keep from doubling over.

  “Yes, it was great. I’ve been needing that.” He chuckled and turned to see her grab the counter with one hand. “Are you okay?”

  Wanting more than anything to be alone right then, Jayda said, “Yes. I’m fine. You can show yourself out, right?” She didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and headed upstairs to get a shower.

  The shower barely helped her feel better. Afterward, she went to check her cell and saw that there were five missed calls and ten unread text messages. All from Pepper and Jazmyn.

  Jayda’s heart did a little acrobatic flip in her chest. Something horrible had happened while she was playing with Tank. That was the only explanation. Her hands trembled so badly that she almost dropped the phone trying to open the texting screen.

  Fumbling the phone, she flipped open the messages from Pepper just because they were the first her finger came to. She read in disbelief to the end and then opened Jazmyn’s messages. More of the same.

  They were at Harley Heaven and their new biker friends had enlightened them about Drake’s absence from The Hideaway all week. He had sent an invitation for Jayda to come to Harley Heaven for a private tour before opening hours. The invite was sent via one of the younger set and was supposed to be delivered verbally. Apparently the kid had forgotten and Jayda never received it.

  Jazmyn wanted Jayda to come join them. They were having so much fun and the bar hadn’t even opened to the public for the evening yet.

  Jayda tossed the phone on the bed without answering them. That was no emergency. And an invitation sent via some irresponsible kid, was not a personal invitation in Jayda’s opinion. If Drake had really wanted to ensure she arrived, he would have asked her personally.

  He had some nerve. She was still nauseous and laid over on the bed. Why did she feel guilty about Tank? It wasn’t like either of them had significant others to worry about.

  Delving into this new feeling, Jayda ignored her phone as it rang. She didn’t want to talk to them about the bar today, she wanted to rest. Especially after her immensely physically satisfying romp with Tank. Physically, she was exhausted in a sublime way that made her want to sleep for a week. Mentally, she was a wreck. Sleep deprivation, constant lust, Drake’s presence constantly weighing on her were enough to make her scream.

  Jayda didn’t scream. She crawled under the covers and turned off her lights. She muted the phone and tossed it onto the nightstand. She thought she might be able to sleep for a few undisturbed hours.

  Jayda slept from three in the afternoon until ten that night without so much as rolling over. She awoke with stiff joints and aching muscles thanks to her excessive exertions in Toyland.

  Groaning, she rolled to the edge of the bed and sat on the edge, dangling her disagreeable legs to force the feeling back into them. The movements pulled at the muscles of her lower back. The pain moved up her back and into the back of her skull where a nice little headache formed. Jayda rubbed the back of her neck with both hands and gingerly put her tingling feet on the floor.

  She stretched with her hands in her low back and yawned wide and loud. It was a satisfying yawn. Moving slowly until her feet stopped tingling, Jayda thought about how she had ended up so sore and stiff. Remembering her playtime with Tank, she cringed.

  “I knew I should’ve quit sooner. Damn.” She spoke into the darkness at the top of her stairs. She was starving. The grilled chicken breasts in the fridge were calling her name.

  Thinking only of satisfying her hunger, Jayda mounted the stairs in the dark. She’d lived in the house for several months now and was sure of her footing even in the dark. Three quarters of the way to the bottom, Jayda lifted her gaze and stopped. There was flickering light coming from the living room. Had she left on the television? With her heart hammering in her chest, she thought back. No, she had switched it off well before Tank had arrived. Her pulse quickened and a sickly cold sweat prickled at the back of her neck and down the center of her spine.

  Tank hadn’t locked the door on his way out. Damn fool! Or, maybe he hadn’t left because he was worried about her. He could’ve fallen asleep in front of the television. The volume was muted—probably to keep from disturbing her rest.

  Easing the rest of the way down the stairs, Jayda looked for anything to use as a weapon, just in case it wasn’t Tank. Her senses heightened as she listened for any sound of movement at all. Surely, it was only Tank, though. An intruder would have other things on his mind than watching a muted television.

  Mustering up her brave, Jayda picked up a meat tenderizing hammer—just in case—and moved toward the living room. With the light from the television in her eyes, she couldn’t make out who was sitting on the sofa chair by the window but it was too late to do anything about it. She now stood exposed to whoever it was.

  Her brain coughed up images of Tank but the figure didn’t quite fit them. Her hand sweated around the handle of the hammer. This man was bigger and his hair, even in silhouette was different from Tank’s hair. It was longer and seemed darker.

  Was he sleeping? Was he watching her? Did he perhaps have a gun pointed at her right at this very moment? How long had he been there? What did he want?

  A tidal wave of panic flooded her mind, but her feet remained stubbornly planted and her hand tightened on the hammer’s handle. Forcing the panic out of her mind, she concentrated. Her knees would lock if she remained standing stiff-legged in fear, so she loosened them and moved her weight from foot to foot to get the blood flow back.

  The meat tenderizer’s wooden handle had grown to her hand, it seemed. Consciously, she loosened her grip and spun the handle without releasing her grip to reposition the makeshift weapon. She spun it again; and then a third time.

  The man didn’t move or make any sounds.

  With complete self-willed control, Jayda asked, “Who are you?”

  Her heart stopped in mid-beat when the hands moved to the arms of the chair. She stepped one step farther into the room, giving her arm enough room to really draw back the hammer if he charged her. She’d be damned if she’d turn her back and try to run away. He could likely overtake her before she made the back door anyway, and he was sitting far too close to the front door to try for it.

  “I asked who you are. Why are you in my house?” Jayda’s eyes stung from trying to see him more clearly.

  In one smooth, liquid motion, the man was on his feet and closed the gap between them by half, putting himself directly in the light from the television.

  The hammer was already in motion, arcing toward the intruder by the time she recognized him. The flash shot memory of him in The Hideout, fresh off his Harley had
come an instant too late and she couldn’t stop the hammer’s descent.

  Drake stepped toward her and caught her arm in mid-swing. The force of her swing caused him to step back a little and she heard him chuckle.

  Chapter 5

  Claimed by the Dragon

  “What the hell are you doing in my house in the middle of the fucking night, Drake?” As she stepped back he tore the hammer from her hand. She let him have it and stepped back into the open archway between the kitchen and living room. She was still scared but not as badly.

  “You’ve ignored messages and phone calls all day. Your girlfriends have been trying you all afternoon. When they said you’d not been sleeping, they thought that might be exactly what you were doing. I was on my way down the mountain and I decided to stop and check in on you.” He moved forward with slow, determined, sure steps.

  Jayda wanted to stand her ground and not let him see her fear, but she couldn’t do it. He had the hammer now. She’d just woken and was sore and stiff from head to toe. He had surely been sitting there awake and debating all the time he had been there. Every step he took toward her, Jayda took a compensatory step back.

  Drake twirled the hammer’s handle much the way she had and caught the spinning head in his other hand. He had backed her into the kitchen. Her back was against the bar and she had nowhere else to go. “How did you get in? How long have you been there in the dark like that?”

  “Your front door was unlocked.” He made a tsk tsk tsk sound of disapproval at her and wagged his finger side to side in front of her face. “That’s dangerous out in this neck of the woods, you know.”

  A bit of fire came back to her and she said, “Obviously, you never know what will come crawling through the door.” She looked for a way around him but there was none.

  He laughed at her remark but was not fazed by it. Mere inches separated them and his masculine scent filled her nose: whiskey, denim, leather, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

  Like a cornered mouse, her eyes darted and she shunted to the left but a large heavily muscled arm shot out and blocked her path. Immediately she went to the right, but he dropped the hammer onto the counter as his other arm successfully blocked her path. With both hands on the counter and leaning forward with his weight, he had pinned Jayda in place.

  She pushed at his chest and when he didn’t budge, she slapped his face hard enough that his long dark hair flew out to the side. “Let me go, Drake.”

  He leaned down and inhaled her scent. “No. Not yet.” His voice was low and deep. It held no threat.

  She tried to knee him in the balls, but he moved and she hit his thigh. “So, what? Are you going to rape me now? What? You have me at your mercy. If you want me to beg you can forget it. I’d rather die.” She tried to head butt him in the mouth as he leaned in again and she connected with his chin just below his lip but was rewarded with a surprised yelp as his head flew back. Jayda thrashed side to side, forward and back.

  Drake said, “You got a brass set, I can tell you that.” He wrapped his arms around her thrashing body and pulled her to his chest, pinning her again.

  She screamed in fear and frustration. In his python-like grip, she was truly helpless for the first time in her life.

  Lifting her feet off the floor, Drake said, “You can stop! I’m not gonna fucking hurt you. You might hurt yourself though, if you don’t quit.”

  Jayda, tiring quickly, stopped thrashing and screaming to look up at him. “Then why were you sitting in the dark like a serial killer?”

  “I’m going to let go but if you swing at me again, I’ll throw you on the couch and sit on you. Deal?”

  Reluctantly, she nodded.

  He let her go slowly.

  Jayda was sweating and her chest hurt from her thrashing and straining against Drake’s hard body. She raked her hair back and away from her face. Shivering against the sudden coolness on her skin, Jayda crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at Drake. “What do you want?”

  They stood in the flickering light again and she caught the glint in his dark eyes as he looked her up and down.

  “Isn’t it obvious what I want?” His voice was baritone and she could feel it on her flesh just like she could feel his hot gaze.

  “You think I’m an easy lay?” She tried to be angry but the same feelings that had been keeping her from sleep were resurfacing and she was having trouble concentrating.

  “If I thought that, I wouldn’t be here.” He reached out and flipped a strand of hair away from her neck. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it since our first meeting?”

  “About what?” Jayda hoped it sounded aloof, but feared it was less than that.

  “About us. I let you know that first day that I wanted you. I’ve not been able to think about much else. I’m used to being able to shake it off and walk away. Until now.” He stepped closer to her again.

  This time she didn’t move. He had come here to have sex with her? She couldn’t lie and tell him that she hadn’t wanted it since the first meeting, but she couldn’t see herself becoming submissive, either.

  “I’m a dominatrix by nature, Drake. I’m betting that isn’t your type of woman at all.” Even to her ears, it sounded almost apologetic.

  “Do you charge or is it all in relationships?” He was unbuttoning his flannel shirt.

  “No, I’m not a prostitute, either. I’ve always had relationships that involve BDSM and I’m the mistress, the one in charge.”

  His flannel landed on the arm of the sofa behind him. “Mm-hm. And, is that supposed to scare me away?” His wife beater disappeared and he stood before her, bare-chested in the flickering light.

  The twin dragon tattoos he sported were beautiful. A head hovered in an eternal serene expression over each pectoral muscle. The bodies wrapped around his torso with the tails almost meeting; only his navel separated them. There was a war hammer on each bulging bicep and more dragons on his inner forearms.

  Stammering, Jayda said, “I don’t know.”

  “And how do you know what my type is?” He pulled his belt free and tossed it to the sofa.

  “You like being dominated?” Suddenly she was wondering if it would be terrible to let him dominate her just so she could relish the feel of him on her, in her.

  “Not in the least.” He pulled off his boots and stood to tower over her again. “I admire strong women.” He stepped close enough that she could feel his heat. “I like strong women.” He ran his hands over her hair and down to her shoulders. “You’re a strong woman, Jayda.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Sometimes all a strong person needs or wants is to find someone stronger.”

  Her knees were going weak. Could he be right? Is that what she’d needed all these years? Had that stronger person been who she had been seeking? If so, her search had been long and useless. Until she met Drake. He was definitely stronger than she was. A moan escaped her as he ran his hand into her hair and fisted a handful.

  He pulled her head back and flicked his tongue over the tender spot just below her ear. She was instantly wet between her thighs. This was definitely a different experience for her.

  “Tell me you don’t want it and I’ll leave. I’ll stop and never bother you again.” He let her hair free and studied her expression.

  Jayda was silent. She was unable to form words—especially the words that might stop him from doing what he was doing so wonderfully. All she could do was stand there, staring at him, feeling his heat, seeing his desire in his eyes.

  “I’ll take your silence as submission. If you don’t want me, say so now.” He pulled her to him and she could feel his desire, too.

  The hardness throbbing against her belly. Her arousal was so complete that she could do no more than close her eyes and let him have control.

  Grunting his pleasure, Drake bent into her and put his hands on her ass, gripping. He hoisted her up and she instinctively locked her legs around his muscled waist, his head between her breasts.


  Drake carried her to Toyland number two and kicked the door open with his foot as he nuzzled her breast through the scant material of her nightshirt.

  “How did you unlock the door?” Jayda felt a spike of fear shoot through her.

  “I took your keys. There are only two skeleton keys; it wasn’t too hard to figure out what they opened. Your friends told me about your Toyland rooms, so…” The rest was lost as he nuzzled her breast again, this time with a little pinch from his teeth. Just enough to tease.

  Her fear faded and was replaced by desires she had never felt before tonight. She arched toward his mouth, pulling his mouth back to her breast.

  Drake eased his grip on her and let her slide down his body, arching his hips forward as her full weight slid over his hardness. She gasped. He was big everywhere. Strong all over. He definitely put Tank to shame. Her feet came to rest on the heavily padded rug.

  He didn’t ask, or command, Drake reached down and pulled the hem of her shirt over her head and let it go to float to the floor behind her. Just as quickly, he was out of his jeans. Jayda was shocked at his length and girth, but tried not to show it. She reached for his swollen cock, but he pushed her hand away. Shocked, she looked up at him.

  “Not yet. I want to enjoy you for a minute, Jayda.” He let his hands roam over her nakedness, avoiding her cunt.

  He was reversing the dominatrix role on her. Grinning, she reached for his cock again and he grabbed her wrists, hauled them behind her and held them securely with one of his huge hands. She couldn’t free them. Her struggle seemed to arouse him more.

  With his free hand, he teased and pinched her nipples until they were hard little nubs that he rolled between his thumb and forefinger until her knees went weak and she moaned.