Dragon Storm

by Katie MacAlister

  She flexed her fingers, making a rueful face. “No, just a bit stiff. Curses are always cold on the hand. Your fire helped a lot, though. Thank you for that.”

  The passersby had reached them, mostly denizens of the Otherworld, but enough mortals that Constantine did not wish to have to explain what happened. He pulled off the tattered remains of his shirt and wrapped Gary in it before escorting Bee out of the debris.

  “It’s done? It’s over?” he heard Ysolde ask before she whooped with joy. She flung herself on Baltic, the sight of which would have normally sent him spiraling into depression, but now he simply gave Baltic a nod and lifted Bee over a large chunk of splintered wall.

  “I have to say I’m glad that’s done,” Bee said, lightly touching his chest. Her pleased expression melted into one of regret. “The curse has scarred you, though. I’m sorry, Constantine.”

  “Sorry about what?” He stopped beside the remains of his motorcycle, mentally sighed, and took Bee’s hand to lead her to the street in search of a cab. “You lifted the curse that has plagued all of dragonkin for more than two years. You have done that which we doubted could ever be done. You have given back to us a future, one where we can restore the weyr and live in peace.”

  “I did my job, and that was only after screwing it up big-time first. And now we’ve lost the light sword.” She rubbed a hand across her head, looking so tired that it wrung Constantine’s heart. He stepped out into the street, stopped a passing cab, and demanded service.

  “I am just going back to the depot—” the driver started to say in French, but Constantine cut him off with a particularly potent look.

  “You may do so after taking us to my rooms,” he said firmly, urging Bee into the cab. She was clearly too exhausted to protest and slumped against the seat in a limp way that made him swear to himself that he would allow her food and rest before he seduced her.

  That noble intention lasted until he got her into his room at the brothel.

  “Go to bed,” he said, pointing at the bed that had, thankfully, been made up since they had last used it. “I will fetch some food.”

  “I have a hotel room—” she started to protest weakly.

  “Bed,” he said firmly, and with Gary in one hand, and the RC truck in another, he went downstairs.

  “I take it I’m de trop again,” Gary said conversationally, wagging his eyebrows. “I know you said you don’t like onlookers, but how do you feel about a threesome?”

  “I don’t share my women,” Constantine responded, amused despite himself.

  Gary’s eyebrows went into overtime. “I wouldn’t actually be interested much in Bee, charming though she is. I mean, I like women, I truly do. I’m totally in touch with my feminine side. I even like some of them more than others, if you know what I mean. But not Bee. She’s like a big sister to me.”

  “Bee doesn’t strike me like the sort of woman who is willing to share, either.” Constantine made a mental note to tell Bee just how Gary viewed her. He had a feeling she would find it as entertaining as he did.

  “That’s a shame,” Gary said sadly.

  Constantine thought for the time it took to trot down the flight of stairs to the ground floor. “Although I can recommend a light dragon who might be willing to entertain your offer. Baltic’s friend Pavel is back at Dauva keeping it safe from any attacking red dragons, but he is like you—he enjoys both sexes.”

  “Hmm. I’ll remember that if I’m ever in the area.” Gary heaved a dramatic sigh. “It’s just a shame that you couldn’t expand your circle of experience to include me, but if you insist…”

  Constantine ignored the hopefully coy look the head was giving him, and instead stopped by the brothel office and requested a pair of scarves, which he proceeded to use to strap Gary onto the RC truck, tucking the remote joystick under one of the ties, but within reach of Gary’s mouth.

  “Whee!” Gary said, zooming down the hallway in a ragged line. “Whoops, drifting to the right… my apologies sir. Er, madam. Oh, you’re both? Apologies, nonetheless. Woohoo, freedom again! This is even better than in the ball! You go ahead and love up Bee, Connie, and I’ll catch you in the morning. Beep beep! Coming through! I wonder if I could do a wheelie? Hey, guys, I’m back! And what an evening I’ve had. I’ll tell you all about it, but first, check me out! I’m burning rubber!”

  By the time Constantine collected food, made arrangements for Gary, and told reception not to disturb him unless the zombie apocalypse hit (and then only if the zombies were within biting distance), and made it back to his room, he expected Bee to be fast asleep.

  He wasn’t disappointed.

  She lay facedown on the bed, fully clothed, covered in soot, dirt, and plaster dust, one shoe on the floor while the other dangled from her toes. Her mouth was open, and she snored slightly.

  Constantine couldn’t recall when he had last seen such an attractive woman.

  “Not attractive,” he said aloud, shaking his head while he pulled Bee’s shoe off and placed a duvet on top of her. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Downright breathtaking.”

  He thought about that while peeling off his own filthy clothing in the bathroom, mentally pulling up a picture of Ysolde and comparing it to Bee. Where Ysolde was tall and blond and willowy, Bee was of medium height, a build that he would have thought of as stocky on anyone else (but modified it to pleasingly round), and with freckled skin that demanded to be stroked and kissed and licked.

  Although Ysolde’s ethereal beauty might attract most men, he had to admit that there was something else about Bee that appealed to him. She was an earth goddess, a woman who was straightforward and honest, and who was clearly devoted to helping others.

  “I could fall in love with her,” he told his reflection, rubbing his whiskery chin. “But then she’d fall in love with me in return, and I’d end up breaking her heart because she would want a proper wyvern, and I don’t have a sept. That wouldn’t be fair to her at all.”

  He sighed, momentarily feeling sorry for himself. All those centuries ago, when he had lost his heart to Ysolde, he swore he’d never love another, and he hadn’t. But sometimes, the thought crossed his mind that unrequited love wasn’t as satisfying as the chivalric texts promised, and once or twice he’d wished that he had a woman in his life whom he could love, and who would love him in return.

  Wouldn’t it be nice if that woman were Bee?

  He shook his head at that rogue thought. “She enjoys my body, but nothing more. She deserves a mate who will be able to provide her with everything she desires. No, I’ll just have to keep her at an arm’s length, emotionally speaking. We can enjoy each other physically, but nothing more. We’ll both be happier that way.”

  His reflection looked doubtful and more than a little disbelieving of that statement, but Constantine didn’t give himself time to dwell on the subject. He finished removing the last of his garments, turned the water on as hot as he could stand it, and stepped into the shower.

  Cold air hitting his back was his first warning. Bee’s scream echoing in the small bathroom was the second, but by that time, he had her up against the wall, holding her by her neck a good foot off the ground, his claws pricking into her flesh.

  “Ack!” she said, grabbing at his arm.

  Instantly, he released her, worriedly watching her take a couple of deep breaths of air. She was now naked, but he tried not to notice that fact while preserving an expression that was both contrite and concerned. “I’m sorry, I did not know you would surprise me like that.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, her voice a croak that she cleared with a little cough. “It’s my fault. I should know better than to startle a dragon.”

  “Especially one who left you sound asleep,” he agreed, dabbing at a little spot of blood where one of his claws had scratched her. “Did you want something?”

  She made an odd gesture, an embarrassed expression fighting with a smile. “Yes. You. I heard the shower, and thought I’d join you. I’m a mess,
and I thought we could—er—I thought—”

  “Ah,” he said, delighted. “You wish to engage in sexual activity in the shower. I applaud such a spirit, but I am a silver dragon.”

  He waited for her to say she understood.

  Instead she looked puzzled. “And?”

  “The green dragon’s element is water. It is not mine.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “And that means what?”

  “Silver dragons don’t like water. We like the earth and the forests and plant lore. We are master gardeners and healers. If you’d like to make love outside, I would be happy to introduce you to the dragon chase.”

  Bee blinked her brown lashes a couple of times, then waved him aside, and stepped into the shower, cocking her hip as she struck a pose. “No? All right, then. I’ll just take a shower by my lonesome.”

  “Water is a necessary evil, and not at all enjoyable,” he said, but as if he was pulled, found himself following her into the shower. There was something about the sight of her standing there, all slick, silken skin, and hips and breasts and legs, and all those other bits of her that he loved.

  “Perhaps, but soapy skin can be so very, very slippery.” She soaped up a cloth, and ran it across her chest, and instantly his head was filled with thoughts of his fingers doing a soapy dance across slick, satiny skin.

  He sucked in his breath, inhaled a little water, and spent a moment coughing it out of his lungs before he gave up his desire to talk her into lovemaking in another room, and took possession of the soap and cloth.

  “Sorry. Are you okay now?” Bee asked, her expression full of remorse.

  “Yes. But you see the danger of doing this in the presence of water. Why do we not get dressed, and find a nice private park—”

  “There’s no such thing in Paris.” Bee moved around him so that the water was to his back, and stroked a hand across his shoulder to his chest, and down to his belly. “But don’t let me stop you if you need to get a breath of fresh air. Personally, I much prefer the privacy of a cozy room. And I have to say, making love in the shower has always been one of my fantasies, but that’s not really your problem, is it?”

  “I shall make it my problem,” he said nobly, well aware of the fact that she was fast driving him to distraction, no matter if they were in the shower. He took both of her breasts in his hands, enjoying the weight of them, as well as the wet flesh that slid so enticingly across his palms. He also enjoyed the way her breath hitched when he bent down to flick his tongue across the nipples. “I have always been in support of fulfilling sexual fantasies, so it would be only right for me to fulfill yours. If you touch me there again, however, I will not be responsible for what happens.”

  Bee, who had been gently tugging at his testicles while stroking his penis, paused. “Touch you where? Which hand?”

  “Both.” He took a long, shuddering breath that had nothing to do with being in the shower, and everything to do with the enticing woman who was even now trying to rub herself all over him in an attempt to drive him insane with lust. “If you won’t let me chase you outside in a park, then let me at least take you to my bed.”

  “Tempting, but here we are undressed,” Bee said, releasing his genitals, but now doing a little shimmying move against his body that was almost as bad. “Don’t you want me, Constantine?”

  “More than anything else I can think of,” he said in absolute honesty.

  “Good, because I want you to take me here. Right now. In the shower, where we’re warm and steamy and wet, and I can slide against you.”

  He opened his mouth to tell her how much he liked her making demands of him, but nothing came out other than a little whimper of sheer sexual desire.

  Bee smiled, damn her arousing self, and slid her hands around behind him until her fingers dug into the heavy muscles of his ass. “I suppose I should ask you about this. Some men like—”

  “No,” he interrupted and, wrapping his hands around the backs of her thighs, he hoisted her up. “But I know you like this.”

  “Glorious goddess, yes!” Bee gasped and writhed against him when, pressing her against the wall, he released her legs and allowed his fingers to find her sensitive flesh. “Oh, yes, yes, that, do that again. No, not the pinching thing, the swirly bit with your thumb.”

  He smiled a wicked smile, one full of manly intent, when she closed her eyes in bliss, her wet hair streaming down those delicious breasts that bobbed so enticingly in front of him. He wanted to touch them and taste them, to taste all of her, but he couldn’t release her to do that. Her fingers dug deep into his shoulders as he dipped two fingers inside her, enjoying the feel of her intimate muscles clenching around them.

  “I want a turn,” she panted, her eyes open again. He was lost in the green-gray depths of them, warmed by the emotion he saw in there, feeling almost invincible. “I want a turn to make you insane with pleasure. No, I take it back, I want you to do that again. Hrm!”

  She almost purred when he rubbed his erection along her woman parts, her legs wrapping around his waist as she tugged on his hair and demanded, “Fire! Or wait, can you do that in the water?”

  “I can do anything,” he swore, and proceeded to set her alight. His dragon fire licked up between them as he tilted her hips and slid into her, groaning with the sensation of her heat even as she moaned his name.

  Her hands moved down his back, dragging her nails in a manner that was not painful, but stirred him on to more vigorous motions. He pressed her against the shower wall, mindless of the water now, needing only to give her the pleasure that he knew would spill over onto him. She kneaded the muscles of his ass even as he set up a rhythm that had them both struggling for breath, his fire burning around them despite the water.

  “I hope… you aren’t… going to be long,” he panted, trying to keep from just plunging wildly into her, as he wanted to do. “I’m not going to last much—Bee!”

  “Sorry. My hand slipped. I didn’t mean to encroach on unfriendly territory. And if you keep doing that little lunge to the left, I won’t last either.”

  He lunged. She squealed in happiness. Her hand slipped again, but this time he didn’t care. She bit his shoulder as she shuddered into a climax around him, making a thousand little muscles inside her tighten on him in a manner guaranteed to push him past all control. He lunged forward three times, then gave himself up to the joy that was Bee.

  And when his legs gave out from the strain of holding her up, combined with an orgasm the likes of which left him feeling as weak as a newborn kitten, he managed to get them out of the shower and onto a soft, welcoming bathmat before he collapsed entirely.

  It could have been a few minutes later, or it might have been an hour. For all Constantine knew, eons might have passed before he managed to recover.

  “The bathroom is on fire,” Bee said, not sounding in the least bit concerned.

  He cracked open one eye and turned his head to look at her. She lay rosy, wet, and flushed with the satisfaction of a woman well loved, lying on her back on the thick oatmeal-colored bathmat. He, being a naturally chivalrous man, had let her have the rug while he made do with his discarded clothing.

  “The room is not on fire. My dragon fire does not get away from me like that. I am fully in control of it at all times. It is a fact I have long prided myself—”

  He stopped when she pointed at something behind him.

  He looked. He pursed his lips. He considered her. “I blame you. You distracted me with your ladyplant and your breasts and your mouth that I want to kiss over and over and over again. Even now, I want to kiss you, and I am so exhausted by your demands for loving in the odious shower that I cannot even stand, let alone think, or work my mouth enough to do all the kissing.”

  She giggled when he waved a hand and tamped down on the fire that had, in fact, escaped him. “You have the best pillow talk. I want to kiss you, too.” She rolled over and slid herself on top of him, cradling his head in her hands as she leaned down and bit h
is lower lip. “I like your mouth a lot, you know. I like all of you a lot. You have nice legs. And thighs. And your chest is gorgeous, although I feel bad about the curse scarring it. And your butt! I could write odes to your butt.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and tolerated her kissing him, letting her twine her tongue around his, tasting him even as he tasted her. That lasted for about three seconds before he couldn’t stand it any longer, and taking her hips in his hands, he slid her up so that she could torment him more effectively.

  “You are a sublime kisser,” she said after some minutes, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck. “Even without the fire, although I like it when you do that, too. Why is it your fire doesn’t hurt me, and the other dragon I dated had fire that did?”

  “He was clearly inferior. What sept was he from?”

  “He had a red dragon parent and a blue dragon parent. Does that make him purple?”

  He drew little circles of fire along her back. “No. It means he belonged to one of the two septs. Neither of which is as superior as my silver dragons.”

  Bee was silent for a moment, then lifted her head and, resting her elbow on his shoulder, leaned her chin onto her palm. “But they aren’t your silver dragons any more, are they? Do you miss being a wyvern?”

  “Yes,” he said without thinking, then paused, frowning. “No. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I enjoy the freedom from responsibility. Other times I miss the camaraderie, the sense of belonging. I miss having someone to protect.”

  “Maybe it’s someone else’s turn to protect you,” she said, combing his wet hair with her fingers.

  “I was born and raised a warrior. It’s in my nature to protect.” He looked down at the top of her head and said something he never expected. “I would take you under my protection if you would allow it.”

  “Is that a proposal?” she asked, touching the tip of his nose, a little half smile curling her lips. Those delicious, tempting lips. “And if so, is it a proposal for illicit activities, or are you desiring my hand in marriage?”