Fire in His Veins: A Post-Apocalyptic Dragon Romance (Fireblood Dragons Book 6)

by Ruby Dixon

  So I think as I walk, trying to decide what's the best way to draw a dragon out of hiding. The answer hits me as I pass by a dead skunk on the sidewalk.

  Smells. Liam's attuned to smells. I need to find a way to get him my smell. Of course. It's so incredibly simple that I want to laugh with pure joy the moment I realize it. He can smell tracks from days ago, and people from over a mile away. I just need to get my scent to him and he'll find me. It's the perfect answer.

  And when I get to the bank building and see a flagpole, I get an entirely new idea. There's a remnant of a tattered flag at the top, and I work the cords until I figure out how to get it down. Once the pole is empty, I consider which of my garments would be the best to carry my smell to him.

  The answer's obvious, even if it's a little bizarre—my panties. I toss my bag to the ground, glancing around the old plaza. There's a few stone benches and some overgrown shrubbery in front of the building, and the cobbled courtyard under my feet that's covered in leaves and debris. No one's around, though. It feels weird to strip out in the open, but I'm not going to let modesty get in the way of my plan. I take off my lace-up hiking boots, and then my belt. I have my jeans halfway off my hips when a new thought occurs to me.

  If he likes my scent, I should give him a lot of it.

  Biting my lip, I pull my jeans off. Instead of removing my panties, though, I slide my hand into them and begin to touch myself.

  It's not sexy. In fact, it feels downright awkward. I glance around the empty plaza again, inwardly cringing, and my pussy remains completely dry. I need to get wet so I can coat my panties in my smell, but this isn't doing it. Shit.

  Utterly frustrated, I take a deep breath and try to relax. I close my eyes, imagining Liam. I think of that first night on the roof, the first night our flirting went to the next level and he made me aware that he viewed me as more than just a good friend. That I'd been clueless about him for so long. I remember how many times he's made me blush, and the feel of his mouth parting under mine as we kissed the first time…and how quickly he took control of the situation.

  I think of him grabbing me by the hips and thrusting into me from behind. Oh god, that had been so fucking sexy. Or when we'd gone to the adult store and he'd made me stand up so he could lick my pussy. A little groan slips out of me and my fingers move faster over my folds. I touch my clit and imagine that it's his tongue there instead, his arms gripping my thighs tight and pulling them apart so he can taste me as deeply as possible. My nipples are hard against my T-shirt, and I toy with one even as I continue to play with my pussy. I'm wet now, and I circle my clit hard, imagining that Liam's overtaken with need for me and devouring me between my thighs. The image is so arousing, so delicious that I start to come, and with a little cry as I climax, I keep playing with my clit until I've wrung every ounce of my orgasm out of my body. Panting and exhausted, I look around the plaza, but no dragon has shown up to watch me get off. Well, drat.

  Panties up the flagpole, then.

  I step out of my underwear and rub them over my slick folds, getting them good and soaked with my release. When they're utterly fragrant with what a horndog I am, I knot the panties around the flag clasp and then use the cords to raise my little pink panties up into the sky.

  "Come on, panties, do your thing," I murmur.

  Nothing happens right away, of course. I tell myself he could be upwind, and I have to wait for him to pick up the scent. He could have moved on to a new territory entirely. He could have left and another dragon's going to smell my panties and think I'm his. The thought fills me with sudden dread.

  What if this dragon isn't Liam?

  I press my fingertips to my temples. No. No. No. This has to be Liam. There can't be another explanation for it. If my scent can't call him toward me, maybe my thoughts will. He's psychic, after all. His shields are down and his mind is open.

  Please, Liam, I silently beg. Please, Atalim. Hear me. Smell me. I'm waiting for you. I'll be your mate. And if you don't want that, I'll just be your friend…just come back to me.

  Over and over, I repeat the words like a mantra. I hug my knees, completely naked from the waist down as I sit in the plaza and wait for him. I don't want to run the risk of covering up any of my smell, so I strip off my T-shirt, too, and sit there in nothing but my bra and my braid.

  And I fill my mind so full of hope and of Liam that I ache.

  I love him so much.

  I miss him so desperately.

  A heaviness forms in the air. Not a physical heaviness, but an awareness. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I get the feeling that I'm not alone. I get to my feet and look at the skies, hoping to see a flash of golden wing. "Liam?" I call out, my voice ringing in the empty plaza. "Are you out there? Atalim?" When there's no response but the wind, I scream it even louder, standing on my tiptoes as if that'll increase my volume. "ATALIM! I'M HERE! IT'S ANDREA! COME AND FIND ME!"

  Nothing.

  Frustrated, I sigh and drop back down again. Maybe I'm just imagining things. Maybe I didn't feel anything at all and it's just my brain planting thoughts.

  A shadow falls over the plaza.

  I watch as the shadow skates down the highway and over the building, eagerness making my heart hammer in my chest. "Liam?" I call again. "Atalim?"

  It's quiet again for a long moment, and then I see him—a golden dragon, swooping back around and flying low. As I watch, he descends, maneuvering between the buildings with graceful flicks of his wings.

  If this is my Atalim in dragon form, he's massive. I stare up in awe as the dragon moves forward with sinuous grace. Despite his enormousness, he's moving like a panther, predatory and silent. His neck is long and sinuous and spikes jut from his brow down the back of his neck, all the way to his spine. His head is flatter and wider than Rast's is, with more deeply set eyes. His wings tuck against his big body, and then the long, serpentine tail slaps against a nearby car.

  The dragon's nostrils flare, and then the massive head lowers and looks me directly in the face.

  The eyes that meet mine are entirely black.

  Oh fuck. A prickle of worry moves over my skin, but then I remember that he can smell that, too. "Atalim, is that you, babe?"

  There's no response. His head is low on the ground, watching me, and the hind legs are raised, tail flicking. It reminds me of when our old cat used to pounce on her toy mousie, and right now, I'm feeling like the mousie. I rub my gooseflesh-covered arms, but I don't retreat, because I don't want to act like prey.

  He looms over me, utterly magnificent and terrifying.

  "Say something," I prompt him. "Do something. Show me that it's you. Please."

  The dark, whirling eyes fix on me, and one foreleg casually reaches for me.

  I sidestep, not wanting to be trapped—and gasp when I realize that all of his claws are blunted. "It is you!" I exclaim, excited. "Oh my god. Liam, I've missed you so much." Hot tears spring to my eyes and I laugh, full of excitement and misery both. "Please, please change forms and talk to me."

  One blunt claw reaches for me again, as if he can't decide what to do with me. I know it's him, so this time, I don't move. I wait to see what he's going to do.

  The claw touches my chin, scraping at my skin, and then moves down my front. It's still sharp for all that it's been squared off, and when he drags it through the center of my bra, the thin, worn material snaps and flutters to the ground. Now, I'm really naked. He doesn't stop there, though. He keeps dragging that claw lower, as if testing my reaction.

  I'm determined not to react. "Remember that first night on the roof?" I say, trying to keep my voice cheerful and even. "Remember how you said you'd always be there for me? Well, I'm not calling you a liar. I know shit happened. I know you're struggling to control this, but I want to take you up on your promise. I want you with me, Liam. I want us to be together. I love you so much. So if you could try really hard to transform and come back to me…"

  The words die in my throat when
that blunted claw pushes between my thighs. I gasp and stagger backward, slapping at him. "Don't do that." I love Liam with all my heart, but I'm not interested in making out with his dragon form, especially not when he's like this. "If you want to touch me, you have to switch to your human side."

  An utterly terrifying low growl builds in his throat. The black eyes narrow at me, but when he reaches for me again, I push him away.

  "I said no. Atalim, change back. Please."

  He recoils, and for a moment, I think he's a snake about to strike. His teeth are bared, his eyes two pools of midnight. I'm a little broken-hearted at the sight, and also just a tiny bit hopeful. He hasn't killed me yet, after all. That's a good sign, I hope.

  So I keep trying. "Atalim, if you want to touch me, I need you to change forms and ask. That's all that I request. If you do, you can touch me however you want. I don't even care if you burn me." I gesture at the old burn wound on my arm from my “cure.” "Well, I'm lying. I care if you burn me. But if you want me to touch you back, I'm willing to risk it, just because I love you so much and I miss you like I miss chocolate cake. More, even."

  The dragon lowers his head again, and he inches closer to me. His tail lashes back and forth, slamming against a nearby car and knocking it on its side. I do my best to ignore that sight, because I don't want to show fear. I just want Liam to see the love I have for him.

  "Do you like the sound of my voice?" I ask, adding a sexy, throaty note to it. "Is that why you're coming closer? Do you remember it?" I reach a hand out, wondering if he'll let me touch him like this.

  To my surprise—and relief—he leans in and presses his scaly nose against my hand. Each nostril is so big that I could put a fist through it, and his breath smells like char and smoke. I ignore the sight of his big teeth, and the fact that he could eat me in a bite, and gently caress his nose. In human form, Liam's skin feels like human skin—as soft and pettable as “normal” skin, just with a hint of scale patterns rippling through the gold. This close up, his scales are magnified, and each one feels like a rough chip of stone. No wonder Amy wears a saddle. I caress his nose, letting my fingers play over his scales. I want to feel that intense love, that possessive need that I've always felt from him in the past, but all I feel right now is that worried churn in my gut that he might be too far gone.

  "You said you'd never leave me," I remind him, my voice dropping to a low whisper as I gently touch his scales. "I can't think you'd want to lie to me. I thought I meant more to you than that."

  The dragon moves. He surges forward so quickly that I yelp and stagger backward, falling onto my ass. His claws flex on air, and I wonder if he was trying to snatch me—or just scare me.

  Either way, he looms over me, his eyes dark and terrifying as he gazes down where I'm sprawled on the plaza cobblestones. My butt throbs from my fall, but I ignore it. I can't even breathe, because I'm convinced that with the wrong move, Liam's going to snap and eat me.

  The dragon lowers his head, and then suddenly he's pushing his muzzle between my thighs.

  I gasp, thumping back onto the cobblestones again. I'm flat on the ground as his nose rubs against my pussy, and he lets out a breath that feels like a blast of heat. I make a small noise of protest, but he doesn't move.

  In fact, he's not doing anything. It's like he's frozen on the spot. A moment later, he inhales deeply, and I realize he's getting my scent.

  I want to fist pump with excitement. Yes! Finally! "Breathe it in," I encourage. It feels weird to be delighted that a wild dragon is sniffing my pussy, but if anything's going to bring Liam back to me, it's that. "You smell me? Do you smell how I touched myself while I thought of you? How wet I got for you?"

  The dragon growls again, but this time there's no menace in it. Some of the heavy malice and anger in the air feels like it's lifting, and I want to scream with joy. Instead, I focus on bringing him back to me even more. With one hand, I gently push his muzzle away from my folds. He lets me push him away, even though he's a hundred times larger than I am. His scales are a little damp from pushing against my private parts, and that gives me an idea. I keep my hand on his nose since he's not moving away, and I spread my thighs wider. I slide my other hand to my pussy, and for the second time that day, I start to masturbate.

  This time, it's not hard to imagine getting turned on for Liam. His presence—no matter how lost he is—gives me hope. So I slide my fingers through my folds, seeking remnants of moisture from before, and then smooth it over my clit, making it wet and slick. "You want me to come for you?"

  The dragon's nose pushes gently against my hand, as if trying to lower to my pussy again.

  "No," I tell him, slightly breathless as I work my clit. "You can look but you can't touch. Not like this. You have to be human."

  His tongue flicks out against his scales, and brushes against my hand. He's tasting me on his snout. I moan, imagining that it's getting through to him that it's me. That I’m here, performing for him. Enticing him.

  Encouraging him to come back to me.

  I'm already sensitive from the last round of self-pleasure, so it doesn't take much for me to come again. A climax shivers through me, but I play it up, moaning wildly and gasping when my juices trickle through my folds. It's not the best orgasm I've ever had, but I go all theatrical and make it seem like I'm fucking dying, just to get his attention.

  I have his attention, all right. The dragon pushes against my hand again, but I smack his nose lightly. "No," I tell him. "Atalim, you have to be human."

  The growl starts again.

  "You want this?" I ask, and take my passion-slicked hand and slide it over his scales. "Then ask me for it."

  The dragon's tongue snakes out again. His head lowers, and for a moment, I could swear there's gold in his eyes.

  Then, suddenly, the dragon's gone. There's a man striding forward, heading directly for me.

  Liam. Oh god, it's my Liam.

  I let out a sob of joy at the sight of him. He's utterly filthy, his hair standing straight up in short, wild hanks, and he's got scratches and dirt covering his golden skin. He's completely naked, and the way he stalks toward me isn't human at all. He's still the dragon, cornering his prey.

  I don't care. He's Liam again. There's gold whirling in the midnight black of his eyes, and when he stalks toward me, I open my arms wide, encouraging him.

  He stops just short of me, his hands flexing into fists and then opening wide again. He's twitchy with movement, as if he can't quite figure out how to approach, pacing to one side and then back again. His gaze is locked on me and where I still lie sprawled on the ground, utterly naked.

  Why won't he approach?

  "Atalim," I call gently. "Come to me."

  But he doesn't. He crouches low, one hand touching the ground as if he's just waiting for a chance to spring up again and attack. It's like he's waiting for something.

  What, though? What more does he need?

  I slide my hand toward my pussy again, and his eyes flare with even more gold, but it makes him start to pace once more. A low snarl builds in his throat. Not that, then. Something else?

  Oh.

  A challenge. He told me once that dragon males—drakoni males—are challenged by their female. It has to be a fight. The dragon women are fierce and combative, and they let a male know they want his attention by attacking him.

  All right, then.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I get to my feet and approach Liam with slow, measured steps. He stops his pacing, his hands flexing, and waits, staring at me.

  I reach out and slap him across the face as hard as I can.

  27

  ANDI

  His eyes flare utterly black again for a moment, and in that brief second, I think I've made a mistake. I've pushed him too far, and now he's going to kill me. But then gold floods into his gaze and he reaches out, grabbing my braid and pulling me close. There's a feral look of excitement on his face, like a predator that's just caught his prey. But he's n
ot hurting me, and he's in his human form. This is progress.

  So I reach up to slap him again.

  He grabs my hand, his teeth bared, and when I try to struggle free, he pulls my trapped wrist to his face and sniffs it. A low rumble starts in his chest, an ominous purr, and I can feel myself getting aroused. I know this is Liam, no matter how wild he is. I know the feel of his body pressing against mine, skin to skin. This is the man I want, the man I need. The man I love.

  I lean forward, trying to entice him into a kiss, but his eyes only flare and his grip slides to my waist. He tugs on my hair, indicating I should sink down, and I lower myself to the ground. Does he want a blow job like we did before? My heart skitters with a frantic, excited beat.

  Am I giving in too quickly, though? With that thought in mind, I reach up and lock my hand to the back of his neck, and when he pulls me down, I pull at him, too. A feral grin lights his face up and my heart skitters with excitement as we both lower to the ground. I keep my hand clenched on him, our faces inches apart, as if neither of us is willing to give the other any ground.

  I lie back, watching him, and Liam's wild gaze moves over me, darting and quick, as if he's absorbing the sight of me naked and under him for the first time. One big hand moves to my jaw, then skims lower, brushing over my breasts and then lower still. He watches his hand as it moves down my body, and when his thumb grazes over my navel, my breath catches.

  Liam glances up at me then, his eyes whirling with a mix of black and gold.

  "Do you want me to challenge you again?" I whisper. The last thing I want to do is challenge right now. I want him to touch me, to say my name. I want him to claim me as his. But my struggles make him pay attention, so I half-heartedly raise a hand, as if to strike him again.

  He bats it away as if it's nothing, rumbling low in his chest, and skims his hand lower, pressing over my mound.

  I gasp at the intimate touch.

  Liam presses against the inside of one thigh, and I part my legs for him, breathing hard. Say my name, I mentally beg. That's all I ask. Say my name and tell me that you know who I am.