Drawn by Dragonblood

by Lynn Burke

  I stepped into warmth that carried his spicy, alluring scent, my jaw dropping while gazing at the high, rock ceiling and the cut in stone stairs winding up the right side. I stood at the edge of the two stairs leading down into the living room with its massive fireplace on the left.

  “Sybil, music off,” Elijah said from behind me, and immediately, the haunting melody cut out, leaving us in near silence.

  “Your home is beautiful,” I said, my gaze flitting around the huge cavern.

  “Thank you.” Elijah’s whispered words so close to my ear caught my breath, and I shivered as he grasped my backpack. “May I?”

  I turned my head, our gazes colliding. The want in his pale eyes hitched my breath, and thumped my pulse in my ears. He felt the same attraction I couldn’t deny. Swallowing, I nodded and shrugged the straps off my arms, my gaze flitting to Jon, who pulled the slider shut behind him.

  Rather than scowl, he stared at Elijah with … what on his face? Had I not known better, I would have thought I wasn’t the only one attracted to our host. I should have been itching to run. I should have insisted on leaving, but nothing about Elijah or his home felt threatening to me. Quite the opposite. An energy hummed around and through me—beyond mere lust—strangely comforting me, evoking a feeling of almost … coming home.

  I swore Jon felt it, too, and I wondered why our small apartment in New York hadn’t ever evoked the same feeling.

  He blinked, shutting emotion off his face and turned toward me with a smile. “Hell of a lot better than trudging through the rain.”

  My own smile came easier, knowing Jon wasn’t concerned with Elijah and the man’s attraction to me.

  Jon slipped off his own pack but held it in his hands when Elijah didn’t set mine down.

  “Come.” Elijah motioned toward the stairs with his free hand. “I’ll show you to a guest room where you can shower. Would either of you care for coffee? Tea?” he asked, leading the way toward the winding stairs.

  “Real coffee?” Jon asked from behind me as I followed Elijah.

  “Freshly ground beans and French press real,” Elijah replied with a light chuckle.

  “Thank fuck.”

  I laughed at Jon’s mutter. He’d been full of complaints over the instant “shit” he had been sipping every morning on the trail. The man loved his coffee, piping hot and black as sin.

  A hallway opened ahead of us, wide enough we could walk side by side without bumping, an occasional section of rock wall, man-made with stones so snugly stacked together, I couldn’t find a trace of mortar. I trailed my fingers over the warm rocks, realizing the overhead lights brightened as we approached and faded to dim behind us.

  Maybe we did fall into Middle Earth somehow, I mused rather than focus on the fact a mountain rose above us. The ancient cave should have constricted my lungs, but fresh air filled the space, the high ceilings keeping my usual claustrophobia at bay.

  Elijah opened one of the rounded, oaken doors lining the hallway and motioned us inside. “This will be your room for the duration of your stay,” he said. “There is a full bathroom to your right.”

  A slider ahead let in a bit of natural light as rain slashed against it. One of the balconies I’d noted from outside lay outside with its wrought iron rail. Lightning flashed across the sky beyond.

  “Just in time,” Jon said, setting his pack on the floor.

  Dangling lights slowly brightened as though welcoming guests—but not by a dimmer switch, I noted glancing back at Elijah by the door who stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

  A gentle smile lifted his full lips, hardening my nipples again.

  I tore my gaze off him and glanced around, taking in the wonder of his ridiculously crazy home. The rock ceiling soared overhead. A massive bed sat on the left, a small, antique bench at its foot. Two huge bureaus, thick throw rugs, and an open door on the right beckoned me.

  I moved across the room, all too aware of Elijah’s gaze on my body, and paused in the doorway. The bathroom dwarfed our entire one-room apartment. A large sunken bathtub, double sinks, and a shower big enough for three…

  A shiver licked down my spine at the image of Elijah, Jon, and me beneath the spray together, steam and the scent of sex flooding the space.

  Jon cleared his throat, and I blinked the image away. I don’t want anyone other than Jon, I told myself, adding a few swear words for good measure.

  The door to the bedroom clicked shut, and Jon’s arms wrapped around me from behind, his chin on my shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear.

  I turned my face toward his and attacked his mouth with all of my pent-up lust, my soul needing to connect with his, reminding us both that I belonged to him alone. That I wanted no other.

  Chapter Four

  Elijah

  Both of my mates felt the pull between us—of that I had no doubt. Dakota fought it, fearing it and the fact it might hurt Jon. Even though I had yet to touch her skin, I felt a hint of the emotional undercurrents rushing through her that I would know fully once bonded with her. Desire, hesitancy, lust, fear, and a rightness she didn’t yet understand emanated from her.

  Jon, however, he recognized the attraction on all three sides and didn’t seem to be bothered by it—except for the desire he felt toward me. If I had to guess, the discomfort shifting his gaze from me countless times since our meeting at their camp would be over the fact he found himself attracted to a man.

  My beta, I thought, smiling at the closed door to the guest room.

  My darker side wanted to show him who the alpha would be between us. I wanted to chain Jon to a wall, make him shudder from teasing touches, fulfillment denied until he begged me for release. Begged me to take him, mark him. Own him.

  I swelled inside of my jeans and leaned my forehead on the door, eyes closed.

  Mine. Both of them.

  Fate had never been so kind. I deserved the possible future she dangled in front of me for all of the pain inflicted on me over the centuries, but would she allow my mates to accept me? Love me as a third addition to what they already shared?

  A lust-filled moan filtered through the door. Dakota. I strained to listen, sick with the need to share her with Jon. My stomach cramped, and my fingers flexed and relaxed with the desire to enter their room, to touch and taste them both filling my senses with everything they were.

  Their nearness comforted me, almost as if a part of myself bloomed back to life. The thought of them both, the images of them ingrained in my mind and soul, flooded me with a contentment I’d never felt. It also filled my body with the need to fuck.

  If their frantic coupling was any indication, they must have been similarly affected by my presence, my scent. Within my home, that heightened need for each other—for me—would only intensify.

  But I wanted more than just sex. I wanted all of them. Every insecurity. Every sigh and tear. I wanted to hear their every thought in every moment. They had to recognize the connection among us first, however, and accept it so we could be properly bonded to share everything I longed for.

  Jon’s groan tightened my ball sack up against my body, and I sucked in my lower lip to keep my own contained. Their combined grunts and gasps filled my ears, charging my blood. I squeezed my hard length through my jeans, my free hand flat against the door by my head.

  “Oh, oh, yes.” Dakota’s murmur nearly buckled my knees.

  “You like my cock deep inside you.” Jon growled the declaration. It was no question.

  “Yes!” Dakota gasped. “Harder … fuck me hard, Jon, please!”

  Her pleadings rang in my ears, the slap of their skin coming together tightening my body to the point of pain.

  “Tell me you want me,” Jon demanded.

  “Always!” Another gasp, and Dakota cried out his name, hers falling from Jon’s lips mere seconds later as I fought to breathe through my flared nostrils.

  Trembling, half-mad with lust, I turned away, intent on my room and nee
ding relief from the sexually deprived beast inside me.

  I wanted to sink balls deep inside Jon. I wanted Dakota’s soft sweetness between us as we both fucked into her. I wanted my mouth on her body, Jon’s on mine. I wanted us so damn intertwined that we couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, our heartbeats synchronized as though one.

  My bedroom door hadn’t clicked shut behind me, and a hint of my claws escaped, ripping at my jeans, shredding them to fall from my body.

  I palmed myself, silken heat over steel slickened with pre-cum. Leaning against the door, I closed my eyes and imagined myself with Jon and Dakota, loving them, claiming them in every way until seed shot into my fist, my teeth drawing blood from my lower lip to keep my roar contained.

  ****

  Changed into comfortable lounge pants and a t-shirt, I went to the kitchen to prepare the promised coffee. Dakota hadn’t asked for anything, but she seemed more the hot tea type. I suspected green with honey and lemon.

  “Sybil,” I addressed my home automation system I’d designed, “music on, living area only.” I placed the teapot on the stove to heat, and my heartbeat accelerated. The house’s system picked up where it’d left off, Barber’s “Adagio” once more caressing my ears.

  Coffee percolating and tea steeping, I decided on a fire to keep the chilled rain slashing at the windows and doors at bay.

  Not yet feeling my mates’ presence, I shot a single flame from my lips onto the tinder and kindling in the fireplace. Minutes later, a cheery fire flickered light and warmed the large half-circle sectional before it.

  I’d had the entire cave—upper floors and all the ones below the living space—upgraded with the latest technology. Although a sixty-five-inch screen hung above the granite mantle, I rarely indulged in mindless entertainment. I preferred spending my time nose-deep in a book, learning of different cultures, their beginnings, and the tales and lore of creatures none alive had ever seen.

  Hardly any of the earth’s original beings remained, and although ancient blood still sneaked its way into man’s DNA, I expected—or had, rather—that extinction lay in the dragons’ future.

  Jon and Dakota…

  Together we three could bring another life into being. While pleasure for both Jon and me, I wondered at Dakota’s having two mates inside her at the same time, spilling their seed together in her womb. The size of me alone filled every woman I’d allowed myself over the centuries. I couldn’t imagine having two at the same time. I feared pain for my gentle female, and promptly turned my thoughts into more pressing matters: that of making friends and creating a bond. Both required Jon and Dakota nearby. Merely waiting out a storm wouldn’t offer the time I needed.

  The sound of shuffling feet drew my attention to the top of the stairs. Both blond heads appeared tousled and still wet from showering, and their blue and hazel-green eyes turned my direction, not exactly unsure, but intrigued.

  Had they spoken of the draw among us?

  They came down the stairs, hands clasped together as though of one heart, spirit, and mind. Scruff still lined Jon’s jawline, but a young innocence clung to his slashed eyebrows and perfectly bowed lips—and the flash of dimples I’d seen back at their camp. The spattering of freckles across his nose solidified the thought of purity in my head. Skin kissed by the sun, his hair a myriad of golden and brown hung unbound almost to his shoulders.

  Much paler, Dakota’s face had been reddened from the wind and sun, her hair a lighter blonde, and no less innocent-seeming in her wide eyes and parted lips.

  What I had seen the night before let me know they were hardly innocent, but their fresh faces roused me in a way I fought hard to tame. My lungs constricted, and I tore my gaze from their entwined fingers to move back into the kitchen.

  “Make yourselves at home,” I managed once they reached the landing.

  I busied myself with making their hot drinks as they moved behind me, settling onto the couch in a whisper of rumpled, comfortable-appearing clothing.

  A thunderstorm, a cozy fire, and exceptional company … the perfect opportunity to prep them with a tale.

  Returning to the living area with a tray in hand, I inhaled the unique blend of their scents—Dakota’s freshness like morning dew on grass and Jon’s more earthy musk that reminded me of a brisk, fall day.

  Saliva pooled in my mouth at the thought of having their taste on my tongue. Sitting with them would prove a temptation, one that I must bear for the sake of my future. Their futures.

  “Coffee,” I said, handing Jon’s mug to him. Sitting before me, his bright blue eyes gazing upward into mine brought on images of him submitting to me in every way, and once more, I had to bite on my lower lip to steady myself against the darkness within me.

  “Thank you.” Jon’s fingers brushed against mine, and that same electrical current I’d felt when shaking his hand earlier in the day sent a rush of blood straight to my groin.

  “You seem more of a green tea type than coffee,” I said, my voice lower than usual, turning toward the beautiful woman curled on the cushion beside him, legs tucked beneath her body.

  “How did you know?” Her dazzling smile wobbled my knees, and at the first brush of our fingertips, she let out a light gasp, her eyes widening as she stared up at me.

  The pulse thrummed in her neck, and her nipples hardened beneath the over-sized shirt she had donned after her shower.

  I wanted them both on their knees before me, gazing up at me with the world in their eyes. Gods above, did I want that.

  They both kept their attention on me rather than the mugs in their hands as I sat a short distance away on the sectional, angled to face them. Both gazes dropped to the bulge in my pants. Both sets of lips parted.

  “Does the classical music bother you?” I asked, drawing their attention to my face and breaking the sexual tension spanning between us.

  “I rather like it,” Dakota said, glancing at Jon, “but it’s not his favorite.”

  “Yeah,” Jon agreed, lifting his mug to his lips, “but I can deal.”

  “Would you like to hear the tale about this ancient cavern and how it became a home?” I asked, rather than turn off or explain how one could and should appreciate such music. Perhaps one day…

  “Please,” Dakota said and sipped her tea while Jon settled back against the cushion, taking another swallow from his mug.

  My own sweetened coffee in hand, I propped one ankle over the opposite knee and began, explaining how centuries earlier the dragons ruled the land while man fought for existence.

  “Dragons?” One of Jon’s brow rose as he smirked, revealing his dimples and nearly causing me to swoon. He glanced at Dakota. “I think you’re going to like this tale,” he said with a light chuckle.

  “I love dragon everything,” Dakota said, smiling at me, her eyes twinkling.

  Warmth spread through me. “Then you will enjoy this story.”

  Rain continued to fall. Thunder rumbled over the mountains, and lightning flashed through the one-way windows overlooking the mountains that usually flooded the interior with light, but my human guests sat in comfort as I shared the story of the dragons’ downfall. Rather than openly declare myself a direct descendent of those who lived in the cave before me, I spun the magical into the reality of my inheriting the home my fathers had built for my mother—but kept the truth of my being the offspring of a triad to myself.

  Leaving out that doing so had occurred nearly five-hundred years earlier seemed appropriate, too, until they were ready to hear the truth of what I was.

  Dakota stared at me, her dreamy expression proof of her fanciful mind. I could imagine her thinking the truth about me, dreaming I was the last of my line, the last with dragonblood.

  Jon seemed more down to earth, one would say, one eyebrow arched again, a flashed grin over what he thought to be a mere fairytale. “Dragons and fated mates.” He laughed again, but his amusement didn’t ring true to my ears. “It must have cost millions,” he said,
glancing around the massive cave I hid myself in when not needing to travel to New York or Paris for business.

  “It cost enough,” I agreed, thinking about the ease with which a dragon could melt and move rock.

  I wondered—no, I hoped—they would both come to learn the extent to which I would reshape the earth to please them.

  Chapter Five

  Jonathan

  “So, your ancestors were dragons,” Dakota said with a dreamy sigh, and my laugh still sounded forced to my own ears.

  “I’ll bet he shits unicorn rainbows, too,” I said, tugging on a few strands of her hair.

  She glared at me and swatted at my hand. “I happen to enjoy having my head in the clouds, thank you very much.”

  “I know, and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  Elijah never answered her question, I realized a few seconds later as he moved into the kitchen with our empty mugs. My attention trailed after him. The carefully combed black hair, the wide shoulders, and ripple of muscle across his back beneath his tight t-shirt. Was it any wonder Dakota lusted after the man?

  Add the tale about dragons and fated love…

  I chuckled to myself, although my insides squirmed. If he wanted to get into my wife’s pants, he knew exactly how to go about getting there. Not that she would give in to him.

  I forced myself to focus on the woman beside me and ran my hand down her arm as she leaned against me with a sigh. I wanted to pry, ask what she thought of him, if she felt the need to take pictures of him for her “strange” file.

  “Tired?” I asked instead, not ready to discuss whatever the fuck was wreaking havoc on my insides.

  “You wore me out,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  My cock twitched at the thought of how she’d come as I’d fucked her against the wall of Elijah’s guest room. Her cries had seemed louder than usual, the contractions of her pussy around my hard cock pulsing with an intensity I couldn’t remember feeling before.

  That squirm in my stomach turned the acids sour, and I grimaced. Did the thought of Elijah do that to her? Was the thought of him while fucking me able to turn her on more than I could? Was she growing bored with the same old, same old of hopping in the sack with me?