Games of Fate (Fate Fire Shifter Dragon Book 1)

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  He was perfect—they were perfect. They read her body and touched in a rhythm that overwhelmed every one of Rysa’s senses. She stuttered in response.

  Ladon yanked her shirt upward with his teeth at the same time his fingers tugged at her bra.

  “It’s been a while,” Rysa said. She tangled her fingers in his hair. “I—oh!”

  He pulled a nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, and pinched and sucked just the right amount to fold a spark of pain into the penetrating pleasure. Another moan ripped from her throat and both her thighs rubbed against his sides. He chuckled as he bit, and flicked his tongue as he unhooked her bra.

  She yanked his t-shirt over his head and ran her fingers through the diamond of chest hair. Ladon responded by kissing her deeply. Every one of his abdominal muscles contracted separately. Each muscle skirting his chest and under his arms vibrated under her touch.

  Ladon splayed a hand over Dragon’s hide. His eyes flicked to the beast. Then he licked between her breasts as he unzipped her jeans. “We’re going to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

  “Better than this?” she asked. His kisses, his touch—she already felt more alive than she ever had in her entire life.

  A low half-rumble, half-growl rolled from Ladon as he caressed her belly. “Yes,” he said.

  He really was a god.

  She lifted her hips and he tugged at her jeans. Kisses stroked her thigh as he stripped off the fabric.

  He caressed the side of her knee, in the hollow, at the perfect pressure and angle to send dazzling flashes of pleasure up her leg. At her calf, he nuzzled down her sock, playfully kissing her shin.

  Her jeans hit the back door of the van with a loud snap.

  She scooted up and he pressed her against Dragon with all his body weight. The thunder of his heart and the pulse of his blood washed over her. When he kissed her, his tongue darted into her mouth and touched hers with the briefest flick.

  She wrapped her limbs around his torso. She wasn’t going to let go, let him get away, or let him move his body off hers, but he shimmied down. His kisses moved lower and he flicked his tongue into her bellybutton.

  Rysa moaned and curled her fingers into his hair. Not once did she respond to Tom like this. Not once had she wanted him as much as she wanted the man with her right now. Ladon was brilliant. Magical. He didn’t care about her attention issues and he knew exactly how to make her body feel good.

  “Ladon,” she whispered.

  He looked up.

  She pulled him close again. The dream resurfaced, as did their kiss in the store parking lot, but this time instead of the visions taking her, she took them. She kissed his lips, his jaw, and his cheeks, and touched their connection with all the joy only hinted at by her seers.

  Ladon closed his eyes and curled around her in a tight embrace. He stroked her back and hips, and trailed marvelous kisses over her neck.

  The entire interior of the van shimmered with Dragon’s wonderful lights.

  They understood, and they wanted the same as she did.

  Ladon curled his thumbs around her panties. He kissed down her chest again, and along her waistline, and yanked her panties off her legs. The lace fluttered to the floor after it hit the door.

  He kissed one inner thigh as he strummed the other. She moaned, not wanting him to stop, not wanting to ever be apart from either of them again.

  His fingers moved upward and tugged on her auburn curls. He licked his lips and bravado winked across his face.

  Her head fell back and her body rose toward him. “No one’s ever—” Dragon’s colors flooded her senses. “Oh!”

  Ladon’s tongue found her most sensitive spot and he lapped at it, playing with it, like a predator played with a kill. Intense waves of pleasure flooded through her with each stroke and she was unable to stop herself from pushing her hips upward. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her middle.

  Heat filled every cell, every corner and every curve. Her limbs trembled. Ladon’s tongue encircled and flicked at the same time. An orgasm broke free, stronger than any other she’d felt in her life. Thoughts stopped and her vision blanked. Her body lost all sense of itself.

  Ladon’s rhythm changed. He matched the ecstasy bursting from her core and fueled another surge as intense as the first.

  A low, deep moan rolled out of her and it floated away on the final tremors as Ladon kissed her thighs again.

  She pulled on his shoulders. She wanted to feel his weight and his body on hers. “Come here.”

  He slid off his jeans and pressed the full length of his hard erection against her belly.

  She wanted him to feel the same power as the orgasm still pulsating inside her. To feel his body respond to her the same way she responded to him. She wiggled and pulled him against her.

  “Not yet.” His gaze said that he wanted to plunge into her, but he didn’t. He stroked her cheek instead, kissing her gently.

  His shoulders tensed and his eyes lost focus. Dragon’s hide glinted as Ladon pushed his palms into the beast’s patterns.

  Their energy collapsed around her. The river contracted to a torrent. Its power concentrated into the short space between them—the space she occupied.

  Visible electricity flashed across Dragon’s skin, over hers, and onto Ladon. Every hair on her body stood up. A moan ripped from deep inside, the pleasure as penetrating as the orgasm.

  “This is how we feel,” Ladon whispered.

  Her body surged in slow waves. Their power clarified everything and the world became a blend of spectacular sensation. Dragon’s colors and the textures of Ladon’s body merged with the force of the desire in his eyes. The rhythm of his heart and the barely visible matching beats within Dragon’s patterns colored the scent of rain in the air.

  Everything inside her opened. Every need, every fear, every moment of happiness and pain and longing, opened to Ladon and Dragon. Her cheeks rounded. She gave to Ladon the same brilliance he gave her.

  Behind her, Dragon shifted into rich purples and burgundies.

  “Beautiful.” A rumble washed from Ladon’s body all the way to her bones. “I’ll earn what you give us.” He kissed her top lip. “I swear to you.” Then her bottom lip. “I swear.”

  She stroked his cheek. Past, present, and future, he had. He did. He would.

  Another rumble flooded over her body. It rolled not only from his chest as he leaned his forehead against her temple, but also from Dragon’s chest to her spine.

  She couldn’t speak. The torrent rippled her body but the rumbles warmed her soul. And when Ladon gripped her hips, if she could have rumbled too, she would have.

  She jumped when he moved into her. Pleasure and the pain twined together. He was bigger than Tom and it almost felt like her first time. But her body called to his, wanting him deeper.

  “Are you okay?” He stopped, only a little inside her. Before she could answer, his mouth covered hers and all his need flowed from his lips to hers.

  “Don’t…” she breathed as she returned his kisses. “Don’t stop.”

  He slid an arm under her bottom and lifted her away from Dragon until she straddled his lap. Then he moved her onto him slowly, in soft, swaying movements.

  Ladon filled her perfectly, fit perfectly, in her, against her, his arms tightening, touching, his mouth not releasing hers. His pelvis swayed in rhythmic pulses. Each sent a wave of joy through hers, and she answered, her voice staccato and her limbs jittering.

  Another orgasm, amplified by his mouth on hers, tore through her body and broke into her vision. She yelped, and pulled on his shoulders.

  “Rysa.” He pressed her into Dragon again as he traced her temple. “Beautiful woman.” His pulses turned to strokes and he pulled her down with each thrust upward.

  This man, this beast, their energy tight around her, his body against hers, in hers, moving with purpose. She was their purpose and they wanted this—he wanted this—as much as she did. To let go of
alone.

  He kissed her again as his pace quickened. He didn’t move like Tom or demand or grunt when he shifted her hips, but breathed in when she breathed out. His chin grazed hers and soft reflections of language flooded from his throat.

  She kissed his neck, holding tight, and her own pleasure kept her from speaking. Fresh, real, it increased with each thrust. She stroked his back, gripped his shoulders, touched his arms. Her body knew only him, understood only him, and his passion flowed through her, filling her soul as he filled her body.

  The muscles along his spine tightened and his fingers dug into her shoulder blades. He pressed her into Dragon’s chest again as his back arched. His orgasm jolted through his muscles, and his body rocked against hers. She responded in waves of elation that met his, stronger than the ones before.

  Dragon rolled backward. Rysa yelped, and she grabbed for the beast’s coat. His starbursts expanded and brightened, and her eyes filled with brilliance.

  He carried his humans upward.

  Ladon grasped an open vent to hold them steady. Still inside her, their legs entwined and his face intense, he continued to move. Secondary waves of frenzy rocketed through her oversensitive body and he responded the same. A quiet gasp moved from his lips to her ear. Another orgasm, one mirroring the beast’s pulsing patterns, flooded his body.

  The starbursts calmed. Dragon rolled again and Ladon dropped onto the blankets. He held her steady as she slid down between him and the beast. She pressed close, one hand on Dragon’s snout and the other on Ladon’s arm.

  They wanted her touch. They wanted her in their lives. Ladon, his body calming, kissed the curve of her ear. There was no other place she wanted to be.

  They tangled together and Ladon leaned them against Dragon. The beast shimmered in the gentle tones which calmed her chaos and placed his big head on the blankets next to her thigh. She rested in Ladon’s embrace, soothed by the rise and fall of his chest and the gentle touch of his hand as he stroked her back.

  How many minutes passed, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. This, now, with them, let her breathe like a normal woman. It allowed her to accept the comfort Ladon offered and the wonders Dragon presented without her fears and her issues and monster stomping on her life.

  Ladon kissed her hairline and his fingers caressed the little dragons on her wrist. “You are all we need.” It lifted from his throat clearly and with the full force of the energy curling around her.

  She sat up. His eyes and skin gleamed. Dragon touched her hip. The beast harnessed it all—their lights, what they felt—and pushed it into her mind.

  “Oh, Dragon.” She hugged his head and he puffed out a small flame.

  Everything would be fine. She had them and her world would be fine.

  She kissed Ladon with all the passion they’d just shared. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

  He pulled her back into his arms. “We do.” He traced her cheek.

  They’d find a surefooted path, one they’d navigate together. She smiled.

  He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. A quick grin danced over his lips. He tapped along her hip as he considered options. “Should we go? I don’t like being out in the open like this.” He moved away, only an inch or two, and reached for their clothes. “There are restrooms in the picnic shelter, if you want. Before we leave.” He pointed at the door.

  He moved away and the crack in the back of her mind brightened. Ladon handed over her bra and panties. He didn’t seem to notice her unease.

  “We could find a hotel.” He stroked her arm.

  She squeezed his fingers, determined to hold the weirdness in check. Her Ambusti Prime status might drop sudden and annoying blasts of Burner chaos into her life but she had control now and she’d tame it. She had the help she needed.

  Dragon nuzzled her shoulder and Cara Caras danced through her senses. “He’s still hungry. We should stop.”

  Ladon felt around for his socks. “We’ll get food. And I vote hotel. I’d like to sleep in a real bed tonight with the most beautiful woman who has ever walked this earth right here.” He grinned and pointed at his side. “And your head right here.” His finger moved to his shoulder.

  “Most beautiful?” She tossed a sock at his head and chuckled when he made a show of fumbling it.

  “Like no other.” He pulled his sock on. “America’s finally given us a reason.”

  Dragon opened the back door and rolled out onto the asphalt. Images of itch flicked to Rysa. The beast wanted a good rub against the big tree next to the picnic shelter before they left.

  “A reason for what?” she asked.

  Ladon pulled on his other sock, and watched her watch him. “To remember. To pay attention. To plan.”

  Dragon ambled away.

  For a moment, for a split second, for no reason at all, Rysa smelled fire.

  Ladon patted his pocket. “Have you seen my keys?” He turned his back and leaned away, toward the front of the van.

  The energy they shared stretched like taffy. It pulled away from her mind like silk lifting from her skin and she suddenly felt naked and exposed.

  Vulnerable.

  Glare flooded into her head like fire reflecting off ice. It yanked her mind sideways. It ripped and it clamped and nothing else got in.

  Death filtered into her nose. Death by fire. Death by acid. She’d never smelled death before, but she knew immediately what the stench meant.

  She was going to hurt them. The realization poked into her seers as a needle so sharp and ice cold it sucked away every ounce of the warmth she felt in Ladon’s arms. The thought poured into her seers, through the crack that had been enlarging since the Shifter terrified her in the electronics store.

  It swept in like a fountainhead of ice bugs crawling on her skin, fueled by a vision-stink of an acid death.

  “Two days together.” Ladon patted the driver’s seat. “And you’re already taking better care of Dragon than I ever have.”

  She stiffened. Her calm shattered like it had been stabbed. Everything she felt seized solid and turned dense and unbending.

  The future forced through a new vision—Ladon, rigid and in pain. Blood soaked his t-shirt. His agony raked her body.

  The control had been an illusion. Her seers lashed out, snapping and screaming, because she would cause Ladon’s death. The truth of what-will-be cut like a knife her nasty couldn’t block. Every one of her muscles contracted.

  “Two days,” she muttered. Snaring them like this, so fast—she should have known better. Impulsive and stupid, she’d wanted him and his body and she’d just put the best part of her life in mortal danger because she couldn’t pay attention.

  “Rysa?” A rigidness constricted Ladon’s abdomen and he grimaced. “Love, what’s wrong?” A groan pushed out of his chest. He leaned forward and dropped a hand to the floor.

  She bolted for the rear door. Their future held death and it was her fault. The burden of her actions solidified into an evil, serrated knife which attacked her physically, as if someone else wielded it.

  Her temples throbbed. She was a monster.

  She had no right to ensnare them this way. She’d trapped them in something they’d never step out of willingly. A net over their lives, that’s what she was. She held them to the dirty ground.

  Her feet landed on the parking lot. All she saw was blood and burning.

  She slid on the grit as she ran away.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The high shock of a new terror—of something so gut-wrenching it sliced into consciousness like a razor—is different from the low pulse of a terror remembered. The fear of the new is not the same as the dread of a repeated horror.

  Both types of terror wailed from Rysa’s seers and ripped like a dull saw through Ladon and Dragon’s connection.

  Then her seers fell silent—totally silent, as if they hadn’t just screamed through his mind.

  Ladon coughed. His fingers released the blanket under his hand
. He looked out the open rear door of the van just as Rysa vanished into the women’s restroom in the picnic shelter.

  “Rysa!” he yelled, but she was already inside.

  He pulled his t-shirt over his head and his boots onto his feet, and jumped out onto the lot’s gritty asphalt. He skidded and hopped but made it to the edge of the lot without tripping on his untied laces.

  She’d seen something. What, he didn’t know, but whatever sent her into the picnic shelter restroom hadn’t been a vision like the ones that took over her mind.

  A new wave from her seers burst from the picnic shelter. He fought a wince, but he needed to pay attention. Maybe he’d pick out something in the backwash.

  He felt nothing but terror. “Rysa!” he yelled again.

  The door of the women’s restroom slammed against the wall. Dragon forced his front through.

  She backed away from the beast. She huddled inside and refused to acknowledge either of them.

  Is she in a vision? Ladon pushed. Do you know what’s wrong?

  Dragon’s back end stuck out of the door. Her seers are silent. She will not respond to my questions. The beast mimicked the restroom building but his tail moved in a clipped arc across the asphalt walk. Random flashes sparked across his hide. He was a dragon-shaped cloud of churning fireflies between Ladon and the door.

  Rysa had muttered “two days” before running out of the van. What if the flare he’d felt had been her future-seer? Did they have a new fight coming?

  She won’t tell you why she cries? Ladon pushed. They couldn’t help if they didn’t know what to expect.

  No. Dragon paused. She pulls away. A punch of fear from Dragon hit Ladon before the beast reined it in. She is good for you. She must not leave.

  Loneliness carried its own type of dread. For the first time in centuries, someone had cut through Ladon’s own low pulse of fear. He knew it. Dragon knew it. Rysa was good for them.

  “Rysa!” Ladon ran to the shelter and tried to squeeze by Dragon, but this door was narrower than most.