All for a Rose

by Jennifer Blackstream

  It wasn’t until that moment that Maribel realized what was truly driving Daman mad. “Daman, what have you done since you stopped rescuing changelings?”

  “What have I done?” His tail slashed across the floor, flinging up a fresh cloud of dust. “I have done nothing. I am far from my homeland and there are very few creatures who are familiar with my kind around here. To the changelings of this land, I am a monster, something to terrify, not comfort. They are already abused, taught that the world is a hateful, violent place. They do not trust easily, and this form makes it difficult to even approach them, let alone gain their trust enough to convince them to come with me, to let me help them.”

  “Oh, Daman, you can’t just turn off that kind of passion, that kind of dedication.” Maribel took his face in her hands, cupping his jaw in her palms. He vibrated in her grip, silver eyes shining with some sort of inner light. She smiled ruefully at him. “No wonder you feel like you’re going insane.”

  “Nagas do not change their purpose once they have found it,” Daman whispered, his voice a bitter mix of longing and despair. “I cannot simply take up a new mission.”

  “Do all nagas work alone?”

  Daman frowned, his handsome face twisting with the expression as he focused on her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Your problem is that you cannot approach the changelings because you are physically frightening. You need them to know you mean them no harm, you need them to know you before they see you.” She raised her eyebrows. “You need an introduction.”

  She could see the moment he realized what she was suggesting.

  “You… You want to help me.” His brow furrowed, eyes going hazy as his mind turned the idea over. “So…I would find the changelings, but you would approach them first. You would get to know them—”

  “And after I’ve earned their trust, I would tell them I know someone who could help them,” Maribel finished. “I would introduce you in a controlled way, after preparing them.”

  Daman dropped his head, no longer meeting her eyes. His entire body trembled, a violent shaking that had Maribel’s heart leaping into her throat.

  “Oh, Goddess, did I say something wrong?” She tightened her grip on his face, tried to make him look at her. He resisted her efforts, shaking his head, and her heart pounded ferociously in her chest. “Daman, please, tell—”

  A strangled cry tore from somewhere deep in Daman’s chest. The next thing Maribel knew, she was being crushed against his chest, his mouth covering hers in a possessive, searing kiss.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Daman’s head spun under the wave of heat that flowed from where his mouth was pressed to Maribel’s, melting down his body to pool below his waist. She tasted as sweet as he remembered, her lips the same velvety texture that haunted his dreams. Her words echoed in his ears, dragging hope kicking and screaming from the depths of his body.

  She wanted to stay, no matter what his physical form, she wanted to stay—she wanted him. To be offered a chance to get his life back, the purpose he lived for, he needed to keep him sane, on top of that was…

  A surge of passion washed over him and he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, careful not to drag his claws over her body as he held her like a lifeline. She’d done herself in now—he’d never let her go.

  Maribel moaned into his mouth, her sharp intake of breath stoking the flames inside of him. It took more effort than it should have to keep from deepening the kiss. His fangs retracted against the roof of his mouth, but there was still a good chance Maribel could cut herself if the kiss went too far. Adrenaline was adrenaline, and he had very little practice with passionate kissing in this form.

  This was a dream. It had to be a dream. Somewhere in reality, Maribel was running as fast as she could away from him, her arm around her two-faced sister. She’d come in at such a horrible moment, caught him at his worst, towering over her sister with what must have been a demonic expression on his face, fangs bared. She wouldn’t have stayed. She wouldn’t have come to him when her sister was working so hard to poison her against him.

  Maribel pressed her lower body against his, her hips sliding against his scales. A growl trickled unbidden from his throat, his body rolling in an undulating motion against her. He swallowed the sharp gasp that fell from her lips, the taste of her desire sending a fresh wave of liquid heat through his veins. His head swam as a ferocious urge to drag her to the ground tightened his muscles, demanded that he take what she offered so willingly.

  Daman broke the kiss with a sharp inhalation of breath, the last scrap of sanity he’d managed to retain warning him that he was letting things go too far.

  Stop now. Don’t throw it all away.

  Maribel’s head fell back, exposing the long, pale line of her throat. Daman’s honorable intentions to put some distance between them melted away, the light scent of vanilla wafting up from her delicate flesh beckoning him closer, drawing him in to taste that silken flesh.

  Memories overwhelmed him, reminding him of days spent in the garden, nights spent hovering in the kitchen, watching Maribel coax untold delights from the simplest of ingredients. Even now he could see the pleasure on her face, the slight quirk at the corner of her mouth as she swatted him away from tasting the meal before it was finished. Those were the nights he couldn’t sleep, kept awake by thoughts of what he couldn’t have, of the day she would leave and never return. The day he would scare her away for good.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He groaned in surrender as he dropped his mouth to her silky flesh, dragging hot kisses against her skin, tasting the scent of the garden that always clung to her.

  Maribel’s hands slid over his shoulders, trailing along the thick ridges there. Despite the half-crazed desire pounding a throbbing beat against his skull, Daman froze. Maribel’s fingers danced over his scales, stroked the heavy silver flesh that was more like armor than skin. The urge to pull away seized him and it took every ounce of his self-control to remain where he was.

  “The only one who has a problem with your form is you.”

  He would never convince changelings not to be afraid of him if he couldn’t be comfortable with himself. Maribel cared for him, had no fear of this form. He would not get a more welcoming reception, so perhaps it was best to start here.

  He concentrated on breathing through his nerves, holding still as Maribel’s fingers slid into his hair and combed through the short strands. His heart slammed against his ribcage with every beat, his nerves taut as he let her explore as she would, waited for her reaction. She’d already kissed him, had been sprawled over his body, but she’d never touched his scales this way. It would make it harder to ignore what he was, harder to imagine he was human.

  She lifted her head and gazed at him, her eyes cloudy with desire and a lazy smile on her lips. One hand slid from his hair and she ran a fingertip lightly over the heavily scaled ridge over his eye, following the curve around to his cheekbone. Bit by bit, tension eased from his body as she touched him, caressing the parts of him that should have scared her away.

  A heavy, languid feeling wove through his muscles, making his body pliable. He didn't even realize his tail was moving until the thick coil had risen behind Maribel, pressing against her and holding her to him.

  She pulled his head closer for another kiss and Daman surrendered, releasing the last of his worries, his insecurities. His mind was fracturing, breaking apart and rebuilding into something better, stronger. He didn’t have the concentration to worry anymore, not when there was so much else that required his…attention.

  Maribel traced her tongue over his lips and he parted them willingly, letting her dart inside his mouth to explore as she would. He held as still as the desire coursing through him would allow, willing her to be careful, but not warning her away. Her tongue found his fangs, and Maribel slowed the kiss, carefully avoiding the sharp points as she continued to explore with small licks and playful nips.

  By
the time she pulled away, Daman’s head was spinning, a heated mess of pleasure and desire. He stared down at the willing woman in his arms, hungry for more of her, tormented by thoughts of her pale, naked body spread out before him. Never in his life had he wanted a woman so badly.

  Her fingers trailed down his chest, not stopping at his waist. A half-choke escaped his mouth and he grabbed her wrists, closing his eyes as if not seeing her would give him back some semblance of control.

  “Maribel,” he rasped.

  Maribel went still and he opened his eyes to see a deep blush staining her cheeks. She met his eyes, but the strain in her neck betrayed how hard she had to try to keep from looking away.

  “Don’t you want—”

  Daman nearly swallowed his tongue, the huskiness in her voice very nearly too much for his increasingly fragile self-control. “Yes,” he said hoarsely, not strong enough to let her finish that sentence. He swallowed hard. “But you deserve more than… I can’t ask you to…” Words abandoned him as quickly as his sanity and all he could do was look down at his draconic half.

  Understanding dawned in Maribel’s sapphire blue eyes. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

  “No. It’s not. I can’t…”

  The color in Maribel’s face deepened to a near-purple hue. “Can’t?”

  An answering heat started at Daman’s neck and consumed the flesh between it and his hairline like wildfire. “Not like that,” he mumbled. “I can, but I…” He cleared his throat, consciously pulling his tail away from the small of her back, forcing himself to withdraw his arms from her waist. “I couldn’t ask you to—”

  Maribel frowned at his retreat, but didn’t move to hold onto him. Her hands slid away from his body as he pulled back and she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were suddenly cold.

  “Corrine says that without Jeanne’s help, she can’t lift the curse.”

  Daman tensed, blinking through the haze that clouded his mind in the wake of Maribel’s kiss. “So you said,” he said carefully. Unease trailed sharp claws down his back. Hadn’t they already discussed this?

  Maribel kept her eyes on the floor for several long moments. “You won’t tell her where Jeanne is. And you won’t go see Jeanne, ask her for the rest of the spell yourself?”

  Every nerve in Daman’s body tightened, one by one, slowing the maddening flow of desire through his veins. “It would be too risky. I never see the changelings again after I’ve found them new homes. There is too great a risk that the ones who abused them might follow me and I would never lead such danger into their lives.”

  “Then you’ll be in this form forever,” Maribel said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

  The tightening of his nerves increased, causing a sickening sensation in Daman’s stomach. He forced himself to keep looking at Maribel, scanning her face for some sign of where her thoughts were, what her purpose was for this line of conversation. A voice in his head was screaming at him to give her whatever she wanted, do or say anything to get her back into his arms. A voice from lower in his body bellowed at him for ever letting her out of his arms to begin with.

  “Yes.” He steeled himself against the shriveling hope being strangled inside of him. He could not betray Jeanne’s trust. Not for any reason.

  Maribel raised her eyes to his and stepped closer until a deep breath would have had them touching. “Then that bares the question, will you keep yourself from me forever?”

  “I—What?”

  Maribel held his gaze as she touched his chest, slowly trailed her hand down. Daman’s skin sizzled with an anticipatory buzz and his throat went dry.

  “Your scales don’t bother me,” Maribel said firmly, sliding her hand farther down until it brushed his ribs. “Your tail doesn’t bother me.” Her fingers danced over his stomach, trailing the line of scales that led farther, farther down. “Your teeth and claws don’t bother me.” She stopped, holding his gaze, her hands closer than she knew to the point of no return. “If this is to be who you are, then this is who I want to be with.”

  Molten heat flowed up Daman’s body, melting his veins until the fire from his blood spilled through the rest of him. He couldn’t think, could barely see.

  “Maribel,” he choked.

  She stopped then, tilted her head. Words failed him as she slowly raised her hand to lift her hair off of her neck, pivoted slowly until her back was to him.

  “Help me?”

  Daman stared dumbly at the fastenings of her dress. Laces and buttons mocked him, suddenly requiring great feats of intellectual and physical skill that were far beyond his mortal brain. His hands moved of their own accord, his body not sharing any of his brain’s doubts. Horrified, he saw himself drag a claw down the laces, slicing them one by one. His shame was mitigated by the intense appreciation of every inch of skin bared by his heavy-handed tactics.

  “I owe you a new gown,” he managed, his voice rough, barely intelligible.

  “You gave me this one,” Maribel answered in a voice almost musical with amusement.

  He didn’t bother trying to come up with a response, his breath quickly leaving him as the material finally released, parting to reveal smooth, creamy skin. The breath left his body as the gown fell away like flower petals opening to reveal a gorgeous bloom. The soft swells of flesh beckoned to him, called to him to drag his mouth and hands over every hill and valley, to worship the perfection that was Maribel’s feminine form.

  Maribel turned around, her pink cheeks the only crack in her confident façade. Her gaze faltered and fell as if her bravado had suddenly abandoned her.

  Daman surged forward, outraged that she could be anything but gloriously arrogant of the body she’d bared so willingly for him. One arm locked around her waist, dragging her naked body against him, the other rose to cup the back of her head, holding her still so he could ravage her mouth. He didn’t know if he imagined it or not, but Maribel tasted different now, warmer, more exotic. He followed that flavor into her mouth, stroking his tongue along hers, fighting to get closer, deeper, wanting to meld their bodies together until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

  He shifted the hand holding the back of her head, carding it through the silky brown waves as he slid it down her body. Her skin caressed his palms, so supple, so different from the harder planes of his own body, mottled as it was with scales. Warm curves melted into his hand as if yearning for his touch, every sound falling from her lips encouraging him to explore further, touch more.

  Maribel caught her breath in a sharp gasp as he cupped the swell of her breast, claws pressing ever so lightly against her skin. The sound drove a sharp ache of want deep inside him and he muffled a groan against her mouth as he put just enough space between them to let him lift her breast in his palm. Maribel gasped, breaking the kiss as her head fell back. A whimper escaped on a sharp inhale as he flicked his thumb over the hardening bud of her nipple. Her hands groped against his shoulders then slid up and clutched at his hair, anchoring herself to him.

  The movement lifted her breasts and Daman licked the line of her jaw approvingly as he slid his other hand around to cup her other breast. He pushed his tail farther out behind him, lowering his torso in a swift, limber motion no bipedal creature could manage. Maribel gazed down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, her breath coming in heavy pants, doing wonderful, sinful things to her breasts. Daman kept his eyes on hers as he closed his mouth around one succulent nipple.

  Maribel cried out, a delicious, passion-rich sound that urged Daman to lave at her nipple, nipping gently at the puckered flesh then soothing it with his tongue. There was a split second of hesitation as his forked tongue caught his attention, the moment the two points were on either side of her nipple, framing it and mocking him at the same time.

  He glanced up at Maribel, searching her face for some sign of repulsion. Maribel held his gaze as she pressed her breast more firmly against him, fire sparking her blue eyes to flame. Hot satisfaction rose in
side Daman and he renewed his efforts, cupping her breasts and holding them to receive his equal attention.

  Her skin tasted like the air on the first day of spring, fresh and sharp, holding a small bite of winter. An odd thought skittered across his brain, the impression that she had to be some type of nature spirit, perhaps a sidhe. Any further speculation drowned on a wave of hunger as he slid his mouth down the taut line of her stomach, his hands drifting along her sides to clutch her hips. He tightened his grip and lifted her until her feet left the ground.

  Maribel gasped, clutching his head to keep her balance as he swung his body in a rapid arc, positioning himself so that she straddled him. He kept his grip on her hips, holding her firmly as he brought his mouth between her legs.

  “Daman!”

  Maribel’s voice rose to a fevered pitch and her entire body tensed at the first touch of his tongue against her wet, heated flesh. Daman groaned, sending vibrations into her body as he dipped his tongue between her velvety folds, licking at the nectar that clung to her. Maribel writhed in his arms, her fingers tightening spastically in his hair, and his muscles bunched as he held her through her contortions. He focused his attention on the bundle of nerves throbbing before him, begging for his attention.

  Maribel’s hips bucked rhythmically in his hold, her body striving for the release his mouth promised her. His ego swelled, filling him with the masculine satisfaction only a passion-drenched woman could give. He watched her up the line of her body, watched her eyes close, her lips part. She was beautiful in her abandonment, free and wild as she was always meant to be.

  He licked and sucked at the bundle of nerves, his own hunger building as her movements became erratic. Her hair tumbled around her in waves that bounced with every movement, the curling tips caressing her nipples, still hard and straining from his earlier attention. Suddenly her entire body tensed, her fingers digging into his scalp as her head fell back. Her mouth parted, but no sound came out, only strangled breath as her hips thrust in tight little jerks against his mouth. Her passion lasted for wave after wave, and then the tension melted from her body, and she was boneless in his arms.