by Ophelia Bell
She shook herself, hating that she’d compare any potential lover to the monster she’d seen earlier that night. Nothing of what she’d loved about Nikhil remained inside the psyche of the man who had found her. When she’d known him before, his craving to inflict pain was always balanced by his confidence in his abilities to give just as much pleasure. He’d been the perfect embodiment of both to her, but now nothing but hatred remained. She wasn’t sure whether she would react the way he hoped when she gave him that week with her. As much as her need for submission still burned in her belly—and had been reawakened by the very act of kneeling in front of her former lover—the idea of being taken to those places by this new version of Nikhil made her sick.
Lukas’s music promised release of a different sort. There was a shadow of sadness in the sounds, but they were always tempered by hope, and even joy. If all the turul made music like this, she couldn’t wait to find the man who would finally see her as his true mate—the one whose song sounded complete when he played it for her. In the meantime, she would enjoy the search, particularly if it meant she could experience these sounds over and over again.
Belah barely noticed the rest of the club, or even the fresh drink the waitress set before her. She closed her eyes just to experience the music, to surrender to it for a moment and imagine letting Lukas do just what his music seemed to offer—to carry her away
She opened her eyes again after the sounds took on an almost conversational, questioning tune—like he was trying to speak to her through the notes he played. She smiled up at him and was rewarded with a pleased look in his eyes that she’d acknowledged his message.
She let out a satisfied sigh when the song ended.
“He’s hot shit, isn’t he?” Erika asked, pulling herself away from Geva long enough to draw Belah into conversation. “His band used to tour worldwide, but I always love hearing them on their own turf. Especially Lukas. The man sure knows his way around a saxophone. His brother’s just as talented—they used to play here together.”
Belah nodded and took a sip of the wine in front of her. She closed her eyes, savoring the flavor and thinking how well the lingering mood from the music was complemented by the richness of the drink.
“He is nothing like I’ve experienced. Everything is so new and wonderful now. I wish I hadn’t had to wait so long to leave the Glade.”
She caught Erika and Geva both eyeing her with amused expressions and realized she’d been staring at Lukas, pondering whether he’d mind being watched by her Shadows while they made love—if he even knew they were there. He had a lovely, blue-tinged aura unlike those of the other musicians on the stage. It had the look of a smoky, glowing cloud around him, fluctuating with each breath he pushed into the mouthpiece of his instrument. When he began playing a new song, it was as if his aura pulsed in time to the beat, and bits of it flowed out of the end of the horn to drift through the air directly toward her.
In truth, she had probably chosen the perfect time to leave the Glade, particularly if it meant she found this lovely creature in his prime. Any other century, and she may have never discovered him.
The music seemed to have a profound effect on her companions, as well. Halfway through the next song, they disappeared from the private booth and didn’t return for some time. The band was well into another set when they finally slid back into their seats. Erika looked flushed and both of their auras glowed tellingly. Belah looked forward to the cravings of expectant motherhood, when she found the right mate.
“I’ll introduce you after their last set,” Erika said. “I think he already likes you, so maybe he’s the one.” She gave Belah a knowing smile. “You should know he’s a bit of a wild child, though. He’s never seemed the type to settle down, but he has other talents besides his music. At the very least, you could have some fun, and you never know—maybe you’re his true love, after all.”
Geva let out a low chuckle, making Belah raise her eyebrows and study the pair. Intrigued, she asked, “You two have both been with him?”
Geva quirked the corner of his mouth without looking at her, his eyes still on Lukas. “Erika has excellent taste in partners, but no, we haven’t had the pleasure of him yet.”
Erika laughed. “Back in the day, it was Ozzie who I spent time with, but I heard plenty about his cousins’ conquests too. Iszak and Lukas had quite a reputation.” She turned to her mate with a sly look and said, “Maybe we’ll have to ask Belah if she’d be willing to share.”
Geva only shook his head. “Maybe after the baby comes.” And with that, the couple were back to their tender kisses and caresses.
Belah sighed and set her attention back on Lukas, but her thoughts lingered on her hosts a moment longer. They were an inspiration for the kind of bond she hoped for, and when the baby quickened and grew larger in Erika’s womb, she intended to grant the child a Blessing for the hospitality they’d shown her.
Until then, she appreciated the subtle, enticing energy the Red exuded. Being near the two of them made her feel alive and eager to find a mate. If Lukas with the seductive music and smoldering eyes was the one, then that was all the better. She didn’t want to waste time.
The couple’s intensity was as seductive as the music, and Belah shifted her attention from Lukas, watching Erika and Geva over the rim of her wine glass. When Erika noticed and raised an eyebrow, Belah took a sip and set her glass down, smiling. “You two are refreshing companions, after spending so long away.”
Erika reached for her own drink and took a sip while studying her. She licked her lips, her gaze flicking back to Geva, and then to Lukas up on stage. “You know, I heard a bit about what happened during the ritual with Rowan. I admit I’m a little envious that Geva got to spend time with you before. And that I missed it.”
Belah’s skin tingled under the growing heat in Erika’s gaze. She recognized the fresh surge of aura that signaled an unborn baby’s craving for power beyond what the mother could provide on her own. Erika probably didn’t even realize herself that the impulse wasn’t entirely within her control.
Geva’s hand rested casually on his mate’s thigh, but he stayed silent, watching. Erika leaned in, her aura flickering with excited curiosity. The thoughts that accompanied the impression were playful, but beneath them, Belah sensed Erika’s own need to experience some of what her mate had. The music changed as Erika shifted closer, the tune becoming even more sultry and expectant—the drummer nearly missed a beat, but the bassist managed to pick up the slack. They must be quite accustomed to their sax player’s improvisations.
When Erika’s lips were close to Belah’s ear, she whispered, “One thing I heard drives Lukas mad is being forced to watch when he can’t touch.” She slid her fingers through Belah’s hair at the back of her head. The other woman’s breath was warm and sweet from her cocktail, her lips soft and supple when they pressed against Belah’s.
Erika’s tongue darted out tentatively at first, the warmth of it oddly shocking to Belah’s senses. She hadn’t been this intimate with another female in so long, she’d nearly forgotten how sweet this kind of contact could be.
With that one sweep of Erika’s tongue, Belah suddenly craved more and parted her lips, surrendering to the intensity of the kiss, giving herself up to it slowly. Erika deepened the kiss, her body shifting close enough that their hips and thighs touched. Belah clutched at her friend’s arm for balance. So decisive a woman she’d never known outside of her own race, and it felt good to let go after the very rude interruption she’d experienced with Ozzie earlier.
Through the haze of arousal that one kiss incited, the music changed again, matching the shift in Erika’s demeanor and the thoughts that clamored through her mind, all of them as plain to Belah as though she’d spoken. God, I can’t believe she’s letting me do this. Will she let me in more? I have to try. Geva said none of them would lay back and accept me so easily. Too overbearing, my ass.
I’ll show him. She might not accept my Nirvana, but at least I can have a taste of hers.
Beyond Erika, Geva’s emotions only signaled pleasant amusement and intrigue, but not surprise. No, the surprise was reserved for Belah when Erika’s fingertips traced a line along the slit in Belah’s long gown and teased beneath across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Erika pulled away from the kiss and pressed lips to the side of her throat, tracing a line with her tongue up to tease at her earlobe. “Can I?” she whispered, her voice husky, her aura crackling against Belah’s skin like static.
Erika’s fingertips lightly brushed against the edge of the lacy thong panties Belah had conjured, based on a description of what a potential lover might like. Her gaze drifted to the stage and locked onto Lukas. He was still a stranger, yet somehow she felt she was asking for his approval. He gave it with the slightest nod, the corners of his occupied mouth pulling back ever so slightly as though he were smiling around his mouthpiece. He couldn’t have seen beyond their covered table to know precisely what was going on beneath, but Erika’s position no doubt gave it away.
Without removing her eyes from his, Belah spread her thighs and sighed when Erika’s deft fingers found her aching core and began to tease.
Chapter Nine
Lukas knew the moment Erika went for broke with her fingers between his pretty Blue dragon’s legs. The woman’s raven hair slid over her shoulders as her head tilted back, the sapphires in her ears sparkling at him almost as brightly as her eyes beneath half-lowered lids. Her lips parted and a sound only he could hear reached his ears—the softest moan of pleasure, so sweet and hungry it made his dick swell inside the leathers he wore. With a clever shift of his fingers on his sax, he changed the key and tempo of the tune to match her breathing.
Every woman had their own rhythm, but they were almost never in sync with his. Hers, however, meshed perfectly. His band fell into the beat like always, and the entire audience ceased to exist except for her.
He knew Erika was doing it to goad him. Being forced to watch without the option to touch made him edgy and irritable. Or it would have, on any other day. Today, the simple conviction that she was here just for him made him amenable to playing along. And it appeared Erika’s Red mate was happy to go along with it, too—he’d slid up close to Erika’s other side, and his arm was positioned so that there was no doubt Erika was receiving a similar treatment to what she was giving.
Sweet Jesus, he loved dragons. Wait until his brother, Iszak, found out Lukas had found her, and that she was one of the creatures they’d always secretly desired.
Having her put on a show just for him while he played for her was the perfect introduction, too. It let them simply see each other; it let her understand what he could do with his music. The music was a gift many of his kind had. He and his brother were what the humans might have called musical prodigies, but their command of the Winds and the powers they possessed were revered by his own race’s standards—their musical talent was the least of it.
He wished he could draw this moment out longer, but it wasn’t his touch inciting her to breathe heavier and bite her lip in an effort to suppress her sounds of ecstasy.
Moan for me, baby, he thought, even as he coaxed from his sax a sensual note that mimicked the sound he was sure she’d make. He’d only heard the first sound she made before she’d stifled the rest, but she seemed to appreciate the tune. Her chest heaved quicker, her hand tangled in the waves at the back of Erika’s neck while Erika spoke into her ear. Erika urged her on with breathy words, hitching and rough from her own pleasure.
“Come so he can see—it’ll drive him so wild, he won’t be able to resist.”
No, he wouldn’t be able to resist. He’d been lost the second she walked through the door. Erika only needed to take credit for bringing her here.
As though it were his own fingertips playing her, the music’s climax hit at the exact same moment her head fell back against the seat and a ripple of pure pleasure coursed down her body. Erika grinned for a second, waiting and teasing until his blue lady’s pleasure finally ebbed. Then Erika turned, pulling her dragon mate into a deep kiss while the male carried her to her own obviously satisfying end, his ministrations still artfully obscured by the tablecloth.
The woman’s breathing began to slow at the same pace as his song, and she never once let her gaze wander from him. Then the set was over and Lukas pulled his lips away from the mouthpiece. Reluctant to turn away from her for any reason, but needing to cool off, he winked at her, then stood up from his stool and bowed to the cheering crowd.
“You look a little shaky, man. Everything cool? You good for another set?” Dan, his bassist, murmured from behind him.
“Yeah. Take five. I need a drink.”
He unclipped his sax and rested it on its stand, then turned and made his way down from the stage, past the expectant-looking blonde from earlier, only dimly aware of her excitement and subsequent disappointment when he walked past her table. He bee-lined straight to the booth in the back where his blue lady still sat, sipping a fresh glass of red wine and watching him come toward her as though she were expecting him. And shouldn’t she be, after that?
For the first time in Lukas’s life, words escaped him. He just stopped and looked at her, unable to articulate any kind of introduction. His fingers itched for his sax so he could play her another song, connect with her in the same way they had while he was on stage.
Erika’s sultry chuckle rang in his ears. “Lukas, I’d like you to meet my friend, Belah. Belah, this is Lukas North. Fantastic show, as always.”
“Thank you,” Lukas said, tearing his eyes away from Belah just long enough to politely nod at Erika. He had the craziest urge to bow, but instead only held out his hand. Belah, Belah, Belah, he said over and over in his mind. What a fucking beautiful name. Belah Blue.
He did bow when she placed her smooth, pale hand in his. He bent low over it and pressed his lips to the silken skin, enjoying the little intake of breath he heard when he darted his tongue out to fleetingly taste her. He resisted the urge to pull her up and into his arms, instead raising his head and nodding again at Erika and her mate.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure?”
Erika grinned, her cheeks growing even rosier as she introduced the Red. “Gavin Hayden,” she said, but stumbled a bit over the name. It hit him that she may not have been clued in by her mate that Lukas was a turul, otherwise she’d have used her lover’s real name. He glanced at the Red and raised an eyebrow.
“My friends call me Geva. You’re the first turul Erika’s met … that she knew of, anyway,” he said, reaching out and grasping Lukas’s hand with his, dwarfing it in the process. Lukas was abstractly grateful that the females of the race weren’t quite so large, but then the dragons did get to choose their human forms, unlike his race. He wholeheartedly approved of Belah’s shapely curves.
Erika’s eyes widened and she turned to whisper a question in her lover’s ear. Lukas would let them deal with the miscommunication on their own. Shifting his attention back to Belah, he smiled.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the seat beside her.
“Yes,” she said, scooting farther into the booth to make room for him.
One of the club’s waitresses promptly set his preferred drink down in front of him, and he thanked her before turning back to Belah.
She regarded him with an interested look that barely concealed a deeper hunger. If he didn’t know how dragons worked, she would have given him the distinct impression that he would be her dinner. Clearing his throat, he tore his gaze from hers and focused on the ice in his glass.
“Ah, how are you enjoying the show?” he asked lamely.
“More enthralling than my sweetest dreams,” she replied, her voice smooth and cool, with a hint of a deeper resonance that set his musician’s instincts vibrating. Hi
s cock definitely knew that song.
From the other side of the booth, Erika leaned forward. “Why isn’t your brother up there with you tonight?” she asked. Turning to Belah, she added, “The pair of them together are even better. Of course, Ozzie’s the glue. Their trio’s what I played for you last night.”
The mention of his brother and cousin made Lukas itch uncomfortably. Family meant everything to him, but ever since his sister died, their relationships had gradually degenerated. Erika had met them during one of their reunion phases about a decade past. They’d tried to be a family again—for their late sister’s sake—but that never went well. Evie had been their front-woman, before the Ultiori took her. She was the one with the voice. Adding Ozzie to the mix was supposed to revive them, but hadn’t really helped. Their music had improved somewhat over the years, but their relationship was still shit.
Erika didn’t know that about him, though. At the time, she’d been attached to Ozzie’s hip. She’d only known that he and his brother were broody musicians with short attention spans where lovers were concerned. Lukas loved his brother, but they’d established over and over that they simply couldn’t work together for extended periods or they’d both self-destruct.
“Iszak has his own solo gig now. Fate’s Fools still play at the Gatormouth once a month.”
The truth was, they couldn’t not make music together on a regular basis. He and Iszak still lived together, which was just about the maximum amount of contact he could handle with his brother—but necessary, according to their grandmother. So they compromised. Ozzie hated the band’s schedule, but he was young, and drummers never had a problem finding gigs.
