Dragon's Heart: Melanie's Men

by T. Cobbin

  Cole groaned, a sexual moan that drove Brock mad. He drove in the rest of the way, his balls hitting his mate’s backside. Cole again thrust his arse back.

  “Eager beaver.” Brock grinned. “Wait ’til you scent her sweet aroma, you will be hard for a week I promise.”

  Brock withdrew, then thrust back inside and began a punishing pattern. His hand rubbed up and down his mate’s engorged member while he pounded into him from behind.

  “Tight, oh so tight.” Brock moaned. “Can you imagine her pussy—tight, wet, and wanting? Just imagine sucking at her honey pot before we fuck her and watch her lose herself in ecstasy.”

  The office was filled with sexy groans and the sound of skin slapping against each other. Perspiration built up on Brock’s forehead. This was one hell of a quickie. If his female’s scent was this potent, he couldn’t wait to get both her and Cole naked and under him. He imagined his female’s mouth covering his dick while Cole thrust into his arse. The beginnings of a spine-tingling orgasm grew outward; he could feel his mate’s balls draw up against his body as Brock’s did.

  “Grab your cock,” Brock ordered. “I need to hold your hips.”

  Cole’s hand slipped over his and he took over stroking his own shaft. Brock grabbed hold of Cole’s hips and pounded harder and deeper. His hips snapped with each thrust. He didn’t have to worry if he was rough; he knew his mate could take it. His fingers dug into Cole’s skin as he continued to fuck harder. He watched his length slip in and out faster between Cole’s butt cheeks.

  “I’m coming.” He groaned the words through his teeth.

  A long groan was the only reply he received from Cole. Brock thrust one more time as his cock swelled and jetted his seed inside Cole. In that few seconds of pure ecstasy he wondered what it would be like to come inside his mate’s pussy, filling it with enough cum to impregnate her with his cub. With their cub.

  Cole stiffened underneath him and groaned again. The scent of fresh spilt cum filled the air around them. Brock pictured Cole’s hand covering the head of his erection, his cum filling his palm and slowly dripping to the floor below. He leaned over Cole’s back, panting, and tried to slow his breathing down.

  “Wow,” Cole panted. “If her scent does that to you... Fuck, we will never get out of bed.” He chuckled.

  Brock kissed his mate’s neck and pulled his softening cock out of Cole’s arse. “I can’t wait for you to get a whiff. Oh, the goddess has shined on us for sure.”

  Brock smiled, reaching over for a clean towel. He cleaned them both up and threw it toward a hamper basket in the corner of the room. Brock gave one of Cole’s butt cheeks a quick, light spank, then left his mate to pull up his trousers. They both then rolled over onto their backs, their hands entwining together in between them. Brock had his head turned so he could see Cole. He loved seeing the shine in his eyes after sex. He leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss.

  “I love you. This won’t change how I feel about you in any way,” Brock assured him, not that he needed to. Cole knew how he felt, and knew it would never change.

  “I know, you goof. I love you too,” Cole said, turning his head to look at him. The pair of them lay on the office floor for a few more minutes just staring at each other, the silence comforting. “Right,” Cole said, getting up finally, pulling himself together. “Show me our mate.”

  Brock jumped up from the floor and adjusted his clothing, then they exited the room.

  “Hey, you two,” Tina called out as they walked back into the heat and pounding music. “Sliding off together.” She sniffed at them both, a glint appearing in her knowing eyes. After a quick smile she asked, “Can you do me a favor? Can one of you take over the orders for Bubble Three? I gotta sort out one of the bedrooms. Todd says one of the wolf shifters who used it trashed both the bedding and mattress. It’s going to take a while to fix it up.”

  “Yep, sure,” Brock replied eagerly. Bubble Room Three was the room assigned to their potential mate. “I bet Todd’s pissed off about the room.”

  He chuckled, knowing full well taking a server off one of the VIP rooms was a no-no. But few non-shifter staff knew about the rooms upstairs. Tina was the person who dealt with those rooms. There were only three of them, often used by the VIP shifters, and most of the time as an emergency. Occasionally, a shifter found their mate in the club and would need a room pretty fast. Sometimes the mating pull was strong enough that they had to fuck there and then; going home or to the nearest hotel was just too far. There had once been an incident where a female wolf shifter had gone into heat, and for three solid days, one room had been constantly used. Troy had the rooms added after receiving numerous calls from staff to say the alleyway behind the club was being used for mating.

  Brock was chuffed, good fortune seemed to be shining on him tonight. Learning Tina was needed upstairs, it gave either himself or Cole a reason to get close to their mate. Deciding on the spot, he told Tina he’d take over for her. With a smile and a thank you, she headed off upstairs.

  “I have a feeling that our mate is in room three,” Cole said.

  Brock smiled at him knowingly. “It’s ideal, we can get close to her and I can positively see which of the females it is.”

  I tell you, I know which is mate. Brock’s bear growled in frustration.

  The human side wants to know, Brock retorted and received a low, rumbling moan from his beast.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Cole said with a nod, then headed behind the bar to serve drinks.

  Brock started for the till, searching for what the ladies were drinking that night. He made a pitcher of sex on the beach and placed it on a tray along with two cocktail glasses. With another smile toward Cole, he headed up the stairs to Bubble Room Three.

  With each step, his heart thundered. Could this really be their mate? He’d just fucked Cole like a rampant teenager, because of her sweet scent. But what if he had been wrong? Maybe the scent belonged to another. Would it matter to him if it was the redhead? Questions and trepidation bombarded Brock. Standing on the top step, he paused and calmed his mind. His bear was dead set on which female was theirs, and Brock trusted his lifelong friend.

  He hadn’t even seen the woman’s face yet, just her hourglass figure in that tight, white wraparound dress that showed her butt and that slight jiggle when she walked. His cock swelled again as if he hadn’t just fucked Cole. Yep, Cole was right—if this was their mate, they were going to need a whole lot of time off, because getting out of bed wasn’t in the future for a month or so. He drew closer to room three, and Jaxon, who was standing outside, frowned at him.

  “Tina had to sort out a room,” Brock said, motioning upstairs with his eyes.

  With a small nod from Jaxon as acceptance, Brock stood by the doorway. The females inside were laughing so hard they both had their hands clutched to their stomachs. He inhaled the scents from the room. Yes! Honey bread. Their mate was definitely inside the room. His sex was again thick, hard, and pushing against his zipper painfully. He clenched the tray in his hands until his knuckles went white. He had to force himself to relax in front of the women.

  The redhead stopped laughing and headed his way. She stopped just inside the doorway, her hand on a cocked hip. “Where did Tina go?” she demanded.

  “She had to take a break, so I’m the next best thing.”

  He inhaled deeply again, trying to work out the scents in the room. The fiery redhead in front of him had a lilac and another flowery scent he couldn’t put his finger on. He gave up trying to name it, knowing she wasn’t his mate. He turned his attention back to the other female, finally now managing to get a good look at her.

  “I’m Brock, and I’ll be taking over for a while, if that’s okay with you ladies.”

  “Oh, baby, that is more than fine with us. Why don’t you put that tray on the table over there?” The redhead pointed to a table by the door. “By the way, my name’s Bobbie, and this is Melanie.” She turned on her heel and went to sit back down n
ext to her friend.

  Melanie. The name rolled over his tongue. She had the cutest nose, bow-shaped lips, and very faint dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. Her eyes were the lightest shade of green.

  By now his bear was standing on its hind legs in his mind, roaring at the top of his lungs. Mine. Mine. Mine, he bellowed.

  Brock was surprised that his normally quiet bear was being so vocal. Very loudly vocal. Struggling to quiet down his other half, Brock fought to keep control. His bear wanted out and to take his mate now; he was impatient. Eventually, with a lot of coaxing, his bear calmed down but watched avidly through Brock’s eyes.

  Brock smiled and walked into the room. Turning his back to the women, he bent over, making sure his mate had a good view of his backside, and placed the contents of the tray on the table. Once it was empty, he stood, dropping the tray at his side, and headed straight for his female. Standing in front of her, Brock breathed in her unique scent and nearly groaned in pleasure. He bent and offered his hand to her, hoping she would take the offer and give him hers.

  Brock nearly howled when she scooted forward on her seat and placed her hand in his. He turned it slightly and brought her wrist to his nose and inhaled her scent again. His cock twitched. He placed a gentle kiss and reluctantly withdrew, dropping her hand. With another wink and a silent promise he would be back, he walked from the room with a “See you later, ladies.”

  Chapter 4

  All the way down the stairs Brock had to call on his inner strength to resist the urge to turn back around. He didn’t look back even once. He could feel her eyes on him, and he wanted to turn, to smile, to wink. Most of all he wanted to go back, pick her up, and cart her off to the nearest bed. Perhaps Todd was right to be wary. His bear was really wanting to take the caveman role right now. He walked up to the bar and placed the tray on it. Cole came over to him with a questioning and eager look.

  Brock smiled. “She’s definitely ours. I had her hand in mine. Oh goddess, her skin is silky, and her scent is to die for. My dick is fucking hard and painful. I don’t even think you could make it go down.” He chuckled, excitement rippling through every single nerve in his body.

  “Which one is she?” Cole asked, his voice filled with all kinds of emotion.

  Brock turned to look up at the bubble room the females were in to see them both looking down at him. He pointed to their mate, not bothering to hide the fact. “The dark-haired one. She has pale green eyes, bow-shaped lips, she even has tiny dimples in her cheeks when she smiles.” He glanced over at Cole, who was looking eagerly at the room. “Her name is Melanie.”

  “Melanie,” Cole sighed out her name. “That makes us Melanie’s men.” He looked at Brock with amusement shining in his eyes.

  Brock didn’t know if he should laugh or shake his head. He chose to look back up at the room instead. As he did their mate turned around, her gaze no longer looking down at them.

  “How are we going to get her?” Cole asked.

  “We charm her of course. By the end of the evening, we will have her either flustered enough to come on a date with us, or so turned on she will be screaming for us at the top of her lungs,” Brock said confidently. He looked toward Cole who had a dubious look on his face.

  “It’s easy for you to say, you’ve just become their server for the rest of the evening. Lucky bastard.” He paused, seemingly in deep thought. Brock could almost see the cogs turn in his mind. “Okay, yeah, we can do this. You take the room.” Cole gave him a wicked smile. “I’ll take the dance floor.”

  Brock watched Cole swagger off with more confidence than he felt right then. Lucky bastard? If he had the chance right now, he’d swap places. To be able to have his hands on their mate... With a deep exhale, he went back to serving behind the bar until he had the chance to run another pitcher of sex on the beach up to the VIP room.

  * * * *

  Melanie was beginning to feel the rough burn of a good night. She glanced at Bobbie in the corner of the room. Yet again her friend had found another bloke and was kissing him heartily. Turning her attention off of Bobbie, she peeked through the glass behind her down to the bar. Brock was serving another woman with her tits on show. If she thrusts them any further out, the cocktail stick currently in her fancy glass will fucking pop them.

  As if he knew she was looking down at him, Brock lifted his head and stared up at her. He smiled, and was that a wink? She quickly spun around in her seat. Nah, she was dreaming again. Surely he was winking at the woman he was serving. But something deep inside told her she was lying to herself. That wink was meant for her.

  Shaking her head to clear the self-doubts, she decided to hit the dance floor one last time before telling Bobbie she’d had enough for the night. Looking over at her friend, Melanie knew not to ask her if she fancied dancing. She was still too busy. At the rate she was going, Melanie wouldn’t be surprised if the glass in the VIP room started to steam up.

  “See you in a bit. I’m hitting the dance floor,” Melanie said.

  Bobbie raised her hand slightly, indicating she’d heard her.

  Melanie headed off, passing Jaxon, who was still standing outside their room. For the last hour or so he seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face. With that dark look, she wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark night. He gave her a weak smile as she passed.

  What was it with Dragon’s Heart men? Each of them were huge! And good looking. She could imagine the application form to work there. You must have a certain amount of muscles, and you must pass the female swoon test. She chuckled, thinking of these men walking past a line of females, each one swooning at their feet as they passed.

  On the dance floor, Melanie raised her hands in the air and let the beat of the bass fill her soul and the music flow over her body. The gloom she’d felt just five minutes before drifted away. She was who she was. One day some fine bloke who didn’t want to change her and accepted her as she was would come along.

  Melanie had a tough upbringing. Her mother had been a drunk, and her father… Well, he was in prison for liking little girls and would be there until the day he died. She’d been placed in care when she was five and been shipped from foster home to children’s homes until, at the age of fourteen, having had enough, she ran away. She’d bummed around camping. She had hiked all over the place, finding small jobs that paid cash in hand, until finally, when she was sixteen, she’d saved enough money to stay somewhere permanently enough to get into college. With a few extra jobs, she made it all the way through. It was there she met Bobbie. They became such firm friends—sisters of the heart—that in the second year of college they moved in together.

  When Melanie was eighteen social services sent her a letter—although she still had no idea how they found her—informing her they were no longer responsible for her, with a check enclosed for a whole seventeen pounds and forty-five pence. She felt it such an insult she didn’t even bother cashing it. After college, she and Bobbie had applied for positions at the same school, and both of them were offered jobs. Working together only strengthened their friendship. At the nursery they met their other friends—Sarah, Wendy, and Amy—and over the last few years the group had become a family. They were hardly ever apart. Until now.

  Amy was now a mother and was getting married in six weeks. It also looked like both Sarah and Wendy had found potential partners too. She’d watched with surprise this morning as her two friends were literally carted out of the hospital by two hulking men. Things were changing. She wouldn’t let the negative creep in though. Her friends would always be there. She just kept telling herself that her family was growing. Things were changing for the better. She had to believe that.

  A hand appeared on her waist, breaking through her thoughts and making her pause. Another hand joined it on the other side. Was it the same prick from before trying again? She swiveled to see a large chest in a black t-shirt. She had to take a small step back to look up. Surprise had her breath halting in her chest. She thought Brock had dark
enough eyes to be black pearls, but the ones she was staring into now were exactly that. A handsome face joined those eyes with a chiseled, clean-shaven jaw and pert, full lips. His hair was long enough hair to reach his shoulders, and his skin was a dark tan. This gorgeous human being with muscles on muscles had his hands around her waist. She instantly felt like she knew him. Her body was certainly aware of him.

  Melanie glanced around, almost expecting to see some disgruntled female looking at her because her boyfriend had curled up to the wrong woman. But no one else was looking their way, they were busy in their own little worlds and dancing.

  He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

  She inhaled, breathing in his scent. A manly, old spice scent hit her lungs, mixed together with something a little woodsy. A shiver rippled along her nerves and left each one of them tingling, all the way down to her clit. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples pushing against the material of her dress. She exhaled and inhaled quickly. She was practically panting in this man’s arms.

  He lifted his head from her neck and looked straight into her eyes. Those dark orbs. The world seemed to stop, the music from the club dimmed, and all she could see was this man’s eyes staring at her with the same intensity that she was sure he was seeing in hers. When he smiled, showing his teeth, her gaze darted down to his pearly whites, which briefly disappeared behind his pink tongue licking over his lips, leaving a trail of moisture behind.

  Thoughts of his tongue licking her lower lips, stroking over her clit, made her shiver.

  “Was that a dirty thought?” he asked, his eyes shining with mirth.

  He pulled her closer to him and swayed along with her to their own beat. She could feel the tight muscles of his stomach against her curvaceous one. She could also feel…his cock? It felt fucking huge. She broke eye contact to look down between them. Blushing when she realized what she’d done, she lifted her head back up and saw blatant amusement in his smile and eyes. Was he playing with her? She had been the brunt of many jokes being brought up in children and foster homes. She wasn’t one to put up with that any more.