By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel

by Meghan Maslow

  Removing the lubricant lid, I dipped my fingers in the smooth oil, a faint smell of dragon-licorice scenting the air. Mmm.

  Reaching for Quinn again, I ran my fingers over his cock, not giving him a tight fist, just gently slicking him up, teasing him with my loose grip. He grunted, swore under his breath. His hips thrust up once.

  “Nuh uh,” I gently chided, testing his resolve. Giving me his submission couldn’t be easy for him. The way he’d fucked my mouth—was it only a couple days ago?—I could tell he preferred a more dominant role. That awareness caused goose bumps to ripple over my skin, both with desire and with unease. I’d never wanted to submit to anyone before, and neither had my dragon. If you asked me before meeting Quinn, I would have said it was absurd. But feeling his desire, knowing what he’d been through and how little control he held over his own body did something to me. Made me want to give him something I’d never given another.

  But not today.

  Today I needed to show him how it felt to be owned by a dragon. Let him understand that even though he bound me to him as his familiar, I wouldn’t be his docile little pet.

  When he opened his eyes and focused on my face, I grinned, showing my canines. He sucked in a harsh breath, his lips parting. I continued to tease him with my loose fist, not giving him what he needed, watching the battle that waged in his eyes. He wanted to push me over and show me who was boss. Well, I had news for him. I would breed him so good, so hard, there’d be no doubt it wasn’t him.

  “Spread your legs farther. I want to watch you come undone.”

  He groaned, his fingers still in a death grip on the sheets. He did as I asked, pulling his knees toward his chest, opening himself for my greedy eyes. So fucking hot. I continued to tease him with one hand while dipping the other back in the oil pot and getting my fingers nice and slick. He watched the oil run down my palm, his chest rising and falling erratically.

  With one lube slicked finger, I wrote mine across his chest in the language of my mother’s clan.

  I tweaked a nipple, not gently either, before trailing lazily down his abs, then the crease of his thigh. Moving to his entrance, I tapped him once with my index finger, watched in amusement as his hips arched off the bed.

  “Nervous?” I chortled. Yeah, I was a bastard.

  “Fuck you,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “That’s hardly submissive of you, Quinn. My dragon might get the idea you’re not truly submitting.” A growl came unbidden to my throat.

  “I’ve got my legs in the air, my ass on display, and my throat bared in submission to your beast. I think we can all agree I’m doing a bang-up job,” Quinn bit out.

  I chuckled again. Such a sweet and feisty human rolled all into one.

  This time when I returned to his entrance, I didn’t tap. I lightly swirled a finger around until I’d slicked him up. His appreciative moan hit me like an arrow to my chest, and a now-familiar warmth spread to my heart. The heady rush of emotion seemed to pool there whenever Quinn felt pleasure. I craved being the one to make him moan. Or smile. Or laugh.

  But I didn’t feel emotion during sex. Not ever. At least not until Quinn. Emotion meant . . . commitment. A loss of freedom. I needed to pull back.

  This was a trap.

  What was I doing?

  “Twig?” Quinn’s husky voice broke over my name. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, reaching for my control. Only I didn’t find it. It had been stripped away by a blond-haired human with a sassy mouth. My breathing became shallow, my throat too tight. I couldn’t do this, no matter what my dragon wanted. I wheezed and began to roll off Quinn, until a gentle hand rested against my rough cheek. Just his touch, slowed the racing of my heart, chased away the shadows of fears I’d never faced down before.

  “Hey, we don’t have to do this. It’s okay. . . . If it’s too much, I understand.”

  Looking into his half-lidded gaze, I was lost. Lust and something I could now identify as affection lingered there. My breathing leveled out and the terror released its piercing hooks. I kissed him softly then, memorizing the texture and heat of his mouth. He melted into me, opening for my hunger, dishing back his own.

  Our thoughts might be blocked from each other, but I could sense his want, his need through our link. How could I deny him? My hand returned to his hole and I slowly pushed inside, my finger sliding in and out in a gentle rhythm. His passage clamped down, hot and tight, another moan spilling into my mouth. Without breaking our kiss, I added more oil and glided back in past my second knuckle. He tensed.

  I forced myself to release his mouth.

  “You okay?”

  “Oh yeah.” He nodded vigorously.

  On my next withdrawal, I added a second finger and more oil, gently stretching him.

  “You don’t have to treat me like I’ll break. It’s not like I’m a virgin.” Though his words were without inflection, a stab of despair moved through our link.

  Pausing, I asked, “Were you a virgin when Brandsome . . . ”

  A harsh nod was his only response.

  “Ah damn, Quinn.” I began to pull my fingers out, but his hand clamped around my forearm, stopping me.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. I want this.” He arched his hips, while making sure we were eye-to-eye.

  There was so much I needed to say. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were already swollen from our kissing, an audible sigh escaping when our mouths fused again. He released my arm and I slid my fingers deep while simultaneously coaxing his lips open with my tongue.

  His mouth was just as hot as the rest of his body and I took my time to explore it. He relaxed into my touch, meeting each stroke of my tongue with one of his own. I’d had lots of sex, but this was something more. Maybe it was because of the bond we now shared, the excitement that sang between us. His emotions stroked mine, just as my tongue stroked his. It was . . . well, I didn’t really know. Just felt like I was coming home.

  I reluctantly broke our kiss and slid slowly down his body. Since I couldn’t remove the collar to reach the rest of his neck, I focused my attention on his tattooed shoulders, tracing the ink with my tongue. I rumbled as I outlined each one, enjoying the strong interlacing patterns, almost knot-like in their design. They fit him.

  I continued to stretch him gradually, a third finger joining the other two. He rocked gently on my hand as I prepared him, moaning each time I brushed his pleasure spot. He might not need it, but I wanted him to know I’d take the time, that he was worth it.

  Kissing down his torso, I ran my tongue over his well-defined abs, then followed up by tracing the curve of his hipbone. I ignored where he most wanted my mouth and continued to run my tongue down his thigh to his knee. He groaned. Impressed he managed to stay still. I’d have to try harder. Moving back up his thigh I slid my tongue in the crease where hip met pelvis. He chuckled.

  “Come on. Now you’re just being mean.”

  I smiled against his skin, ignoring his words, reveling in a leisurely exploration. I wanted to memorize every touch, every taste. After I finally took my fill of teasing him and he was squirming under me, I nuzzled his balls, my breath hot against his skin. His hands vibrated where they held the sheets.

  I paused my explorations, watching until his fingers loosened on the sheet and his body began to relax. Then I lunged forward and swallowed his dick. He shouted, his back arching and hands going to my hair in a death grip. I would have laughed, but considering my mouth was quite full, I concentrated on applying just the right amount of suction as I moved up and down his length. I loved hearing him pant like he was the one choking on cock instead of me.

  His thighs began to shake and if possible, he hardened even more in my mouth. I gripped his base, squeezed, while pulling off him. He mewled and called me some very inventive names. I’d have to remember a few.

  “Dammit, Twig. Are you ever going to fuck me?”

  “So impatient.” But I was also done waiting.
Moving into place, I added some oil to my length and pushed inside him. His body was ready. Even so, I wasn’t what one would call small, so I was careful not to move too fast. No easy feat since both Quinn and my dragon urged me to greater speed.

  When I finally sank to the hilt, both Quinn and I groaned. So hot, so perfect. I rested our foreheads together, giving him a chance to adjust. I hadn’t even started moving yet and I was ready to blow. I forced myself to think about unpleasant things—like the Alphae’s list of membership principles and some of the legislation on running a business that I’d become familiar with when opening my detective agency. Worked better than a charm.

  “Move,” Quinn hissed. His hand came down sharply on my backside and my dragon surged to the surface, my fangs dropping through my gum line. Before I could pull back, I was pounding him into the mattress. I tried to wrest back control from my beast, but it felt too amazing and the noises Quinn made didn’t help. He wrapped his arms and legs around me and held on.

  My aggression increased as I found his pleasure spot, pegging it with each stroke. His nails raked down my back and I roared, loving every second of giving my mate pleasure. And I needed to face facts; he was my mate. I’d been fooling myself to think otherwise, or that Brandsome had anything to do with this gut-deep connection.

  As I fucked him in long, hard strokes, my eyes wandered to the junction where his shoulder met his throat and I couldn’t look away. One simple bite and he’d be mine. Centuries with him didn’t even seem enough. As I bent toward his neck, he gripped my hair tight and yanked me away and into a blistering kiss, his tongue shoving to the back of my throat like he’d consume me if he could.

  Our tongues dueled, a give and take, with no prisoners. When we finally broke apart to breathe, my lips automatically began moving down toward his neck, every instinct driving me to mate him. I didn’t have the will to resist any longer.

  A gentle palm against my cheek stopped me. Our eyes met. His showed both desire, but also worry. It came through our link as well. He was scared. He tipped his neck so I could finish the mating bond. His distress increased and I saw the pounding of his pulse at the base of his throat and felt the slight tremor of his body.

  Something wasn’t right. He seemed to be fighting himself, waging some kind of internal battle.

  Though my dragon grumbled, I forced myself back toward his lips, giving him a gentle kiss. Surprise showed in every line of his face. He went to tip his chin up again, but I captured his mouth, soothing him more than inciting.

  Instead of mating him, I concentrated on how amazing our sweat-slick bodies fit together with each movement; how tight he gripped my length as I kept a punishing pace; how his eyes rolled back in his head each time I hit just the right spot.

  I lowered myself over him, so that his cock was caught between our bodies, the friction of our sweat-slicked abs making him moan my name.

  “Twig, I’m gonna . . . oh fuuuckk.” Quinn tightened his grip on me and convulsed as his cock shot a thin trail of cum onto our stomachs and chests. His words, and the fact he was practically strangling my dick, sent me over the edge a moment after him. Fire raced down my spine, pooled in my balls. No holding back now. I unloaded inside his ass, my vision whiting out, my limbs shaking with the effort to keep my weight from crushing him. I roared in triumph as I painted his insides. Mine, mine, mine, I chanted. His, his, his, whispered my dragon.

  When I collapsed after I’d been wrung dry, I rolled him on top so he could breathe. Neither of us spoke, and I could practically hear his heartbeat sync with mine. After a moment, I captured his hand and brought it to my lips.

  “We okay?” he asked, a crooked grin on his face.

  “I guess being a wizard and familiar could have certain advantages.”

  “Mmhmm.” He idly traced my new markings, the scale-like displays covering a large portion of my body in intricate designs. I hadn’t taken the time to look the markings over, but I had to admit, they were striking. Pride filled me. I was a real dragon.

  “You were always a real dragon.”

  “Didn’t realize you’d turned our thoughts back on.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Oh.” I ran my hands down Quinn’s back, exploring the texture and resilience of his skin. He sighed as I kneaded sore muscles.

  “If you keep that up, we won’t get any sleep tonight.”

  Tempting to make a lewd quip, though I held back. Time to change gears. “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?”

  “Huh?” Quinn pushed up on my chest so he could see me better. “Where did that come from? Why would you ask that?”

  “I just felt your fear when I neared your neck. You seemed to want me to mate you when we started and then it changed. Did I do something to scare you? I know my dragon can be a little overwhelming—”

  His hand covered my mouth.

  “No, Twig. Nothing like that. I’m not afraid of you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  I nipped his palm playfully and he jerked it back.

  “Then what? I don’t want to do anything to scare you.”

  “I-I wasn’t scared. Not of that. It’s just . . . at first you wavered, and I didn’t want you to have any regrets. Then when we got into things . . . look, I don’t know what’s going to happen with us and when I thought about being mated and giving Brandsome control over both of us . . . Twig, he owns me. I don’t want him to own you too.”

  “So, it wasn’t that you don’t want to be mated to me?” If that came out more timid than I meant, well, it wasn’t every day I considered mating someone only to have them hesitate.

  He clasped my cheeks between his hands. “I’d be thrilled to belong to you. It’s just . . . I’m not really free, am I?”

  “You will be, Quinn. I plan to buy you from Brandsome. Besides, we’re already wizard and familiar. I won’t be able to stay away.”

  His face clouded over, then cleared. “I’m going to look in my books and see if there’s a way we can modify the bond. I’m sure I can do something. But a mating is different, right? There’s no way to change that unless one of us dies. Or is that not the way it works?”

  “No, it’s definitely how it works.”

  “Then, I think it’s better we wait. I’ll figure out a way so that if things go wrong, you won’t be compelled to be with me all the time. Brandsome never needs to know we’re wizard and familiar. We’ll hide it.”

  “You think that’s possible?”

  “I think so.” He smiled. “In fact, I’m sure of it.”

  20

  I rummaged around in my pack, trying to be quiet so Quinn wouldn’t wake. I pulled out an invocation stone. Perfect. Now, I just needed to set it up. I placed the stone on the sofa, climbed up and began speaking in low tones. A moment later the stone sent up a soft glow.

  My father would probably keep me waiting. That was okay. I could use the time to pull myself together. Yesterday had upended my world. I was irrevocably linked to a wizard, I’d come close to mating him, and we still hadn’t retrieved the damn unicorn horn. Yet, for all of that, I was surprisingly . . . content. Last night had been amazing, my dragon and fairy sides both sated. I don’t think that ever happened before. Certainly not at this level of intensity.

  Because I wanted my father to take his time, naturally he didn’t. The stone glowed a muted white and his image appeared hovering over the stone.

  “Good morning, son. Dare I ask what brings you to contact me?” His expression was guarded. Couldn’t blame the guy. I did my best to pretend I didn’t have a sire most of the time. Our conversations were never easy and left both of us frustrated. Simpler not to talk. Though he clearly didn’t feel that way since he made every effort to keep tabs on me and then let me know how I fucked things up.

  “Don’t you know?” I joked. Totally fell flat, his raised eyebrow speaking louder than words.

  “I’m receiving reports of a change in the Rottingvale Quagmire—flowers, trees, and other things growing in it. Assuming
that means Sahara Burningwood has been . . . dealt with.” He held up a hand. “No, don’t tell me. Better I don’t know.”

  “I’m not calling about that.”

  “Of course not.” He shook his head, his downturned mouth speaking louder than his words. Then he squinted, cocked his head to the side. “Something’s different.”

  Naturally, even in hologram form, he would recognize the most minute details. I really didn’t want to go into it with him.

  “You’ve shifted?” His eyes widened almost comically. “I’d heard whispers of a dragon in the East, but I didn’t believe. . . . Should have known.”

  My cheeks warmed.

  “I like to think it’s a good thing, Dad.”

  He harrumphed. “I’m going to have to file a form ACS2b3F now. You’ll need an extension to stay until we can file the necessary paperwork to get you permanent residency.” He rubbed his temple like a massive headache was coming on.

  “I have permanent residency.”

  “Under the assumption you weren’t a real dragon.”

  “A real . . . What in the lower realms does that mean? I’ve always been a real dragon.” If Quinn hadn’t been sleeping I would have snarled. My father sure knew how to stab someone in the heart.

  “Yes, yes,” he waved his hand dismissively, “I meant for the purposes of the Ogbad Accord. Never mind, never mind, I’ll handle it, like I always do. Zephyr’s Principles of Transmorphaeting Creatures has some language which could be . . . interpreted . . . in such a way to make this process a little easier. We’ll see.”

  Forcing myself to take a deep breath and let it out, I said, “Dad, I didn’t call to talk about my residency status, either. I need to know where Nyx is living these days.”

  I watched my father’s face turn from bureaucratic ecstasy to horror. “We don’t discuss him. Ever.”