by Woods, Alisa
“Is this all right?” he murmured against her back, kissing her dragon mark and caressing her bottom. He lifted her toga skirt clear, and she felt his cock slide between her legs, but not enter her. It was a delicious feeling.
“Yes,” she breathed, then she squirmed against him.
He groaned, pulled back and slowly eased into her. She gripped the window harder, but he stroked slow and deep, not the frenzied motion he used earlier in the pregnancy. He’d been exceedingly gentle with her ever since they arrived at his lair. She hinted once or twice that restraints would be more than welcome, but he would have none of it. Almost as if he thought her more breakable than before. Which was nonsense, but now with her belly so large… the slow and deep taking from behind worked her relentlessly toward her climax. And for the longer it took to get there, the more bed-shaking it would be when it arrived.
He quietly grunted, gripping her shoulder to hold her steady, but she could hear the strain in it inching higher. Her own moaning kept time with the slow beat of his thrust. Just as his breath became ragged, he slipped a hand around to the front of her sex, and his fingers quickly found her nub, sending her cresting again. It swept over her fast—too fast—somehow catching her by surprise even with the long, slow build. Her body convulsed, and her power pulsed out, launching him away before he finished.
“Leksander!” She whipped her head around.
He’d been shoved entirely off the bed, but he quickly scrambled up, returning to her and entering her once more. Harder. The quick, short thrusts somehow shot her higher still, but this time when the next orgasm gripped her, she shuddered and convulsed and channeled her power into angelsong. Leksander slammed into her through it, growling out his own release, his grip harder and more vigorous than normal.
Then he released her and withdrew and fell to the bed, rolling over on his back. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, throwing an arm over his face and panting. “We’re going to have to do that slow-fast thing again.”
Her body was still reverberating with bliss. She sank into the bed next to him on her side, so as not to crush the baby.
“You can take me as hard as you like, dragon prince.”
He growled and pulled his arm from his face to peer at her. “But the baby…”
The baby was humming quietly to himself. “I think he likes the rocking.” She smiled.
Leksander groaned and turned on his side to face her. “Then I will definitely rock you.” He kissed her gently on the nose. Then the lips. Then her cheek… she recognized the signs. He may be spent for the moment, but he would work another orgasm out of her before he was ready to “rock” her again.
She scooted back from his kissing.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s three orgasms by my count,” she said with a smile.
He grinned. “Is there a limit?”
There should be. But between their two forms of immortal magic, there hardly seemed one in reality. “No,” she admitted. “But I was thinking…”
His eyes lit up, and he propped his head on his hand. “Yes?”
“I’d like to see Rosalyn.”
His face fell. “You know we can’t—”
“Not in person. On the screen.” She gestured toward the giant one on the wall, the one he used for his communications with his brothers.
He frowned, but what could he possibly object to?
“We princesses of the House of Smoke have to stick together,” she said with a small smile.
And she could see that soften whatever objection he had. “Okay,” he said, then leaned forward to kiss her on the nose. “But Rosalyn had better not give you any terrible advice like Stop Having Sex or Don’t Let Leksander Nibble Your Toes, or I’ll have to have words with her mate.”
“I can’t imagine any dragon’s mate not wanting to have sex.” And it was true. She’d become almost as insatiable as Leksander since bearing his mark.
“That’s because we’re impossibly handsome.” He leaned in to give her another kiss.
“And well versed in technique.” She kissed him back.
He groaned and slipped a hand around her waist. “And we always want more.” His kiss deepened.
She had to shove him away. “Perhaps she will have the cure for that.” She smirked.
“God, I really hope not.” He swept his gaze longingly over her body, still clothed in toga, if somewhat disheveled. “Do you want to change before I call?”
She nodded and slipped off the bed to the bathroom. She splashed her face with cool water and teased the love-mussed tangles out of her hair. Then she conjured a training toga—substantially less revealing than her standard one. Leksander’s voice carried into the bathroom. It sounded like he was talking to Leonidas, Rosalyn’s mate, but by the time she emerged again, only Rosalyn was on the screen.
“Here you go, love.” Leksander kissed her quickly on the cheek. “I’ll be downstairs.” There was a lingering promise of more lovemaking in his eyes. Then he turned to leave.
She waited until he closed the door behind him. To Rosalyn, she blurted out, “How did you manage it?”
Her eyebrows hiked up, but she had a smile on her face. “All the sex? I guess I managed well enough.”
Erelah couldn’t help her smile. “No, I mean…” She ran her hands over the enormous mound of her belly. “This carrying of a child…” She looked up. “It’s much bigger than I expected.”
Rosalyn laughed. “Erelah, you’re gorgeous!”
“Angelings are naturally beautiful.” She frowned when Rosalyn laughed more. “It’s God’s gift to show his…” She trailed off because Rosalyn was gasping for air, her laughter was so strong.
“I’m sorry!” Rosalyn wiped at her eyes. “I’d forgotten you were…” She gestured helplessly at Erelah and her massive belly. “You.”
Erelah had no idea what she meant. “I'm serious.”
Rosalyn seemed to make a grand attempt at sobering up. “Of course. Erelah, every woman feels like she’s blown up like a balloon when she’s pregnant.”
“Are you sure?” Erelah was certain she was anomalous in this regard.
“Very sure.”
“I do not remember you being this large when you were with child,” Erelah said. “And I have two more weeks to go in this pregnancy. It is… concerning.”
Rosalyn’s expression softened. “Erelah, honey… it’s fine.”
Erelah found little comfort in that. After all, what would Rosalyn say if things were truly amiss? What was there to do about it at this point? Her shoulders sagged.
Rosalyn frowned. “Okay, look. I have something to show you.” She held up a finger. “Just give me a minute, okay?”
Erelah nodded, and Rosalyn slipped off screen. While Erelah waited, she contemplated how little she knew about any of this. Had she had some sense about her, she would have known much earlier that Leksander was in love with her. Then they could have had some kind of normal mating ritual… although she couldn’t imagine what that might be. Regardless, it wouldn’t have comprised him turning wyvern, attacking her, then her having to hunt him down with her blade and liberate a demon from his mind. She was certain that normal couples did not have to endure such things. Normal couples would have time to discuss the intricacies of dragonling pregnancies before such an event was upon them. Then again, none of the princesses of the House of Smoke were any luckier than she. Arabella’s mate attempted death before allowing her True Love to bloom. And then she was captured by Zephan, a despicable fae prince of the Winter Court, before her mate won her release. Rosalyn was even less lucky, having to risk her life to free Leonidas of his curse. Then Zephan intervened again, poisoning her and her baby with demon essence, such that the two nearly perished.
An overly large belly would be the least of their concerns.
By the time Rosalyn returned, Erelah was ready with an apology for wasting her time. But Rosalyn had brought another woman with her, one Erelah vaguely recognized… but
the bulging belly she sported was all too familiar.
“Erelah, honey—do you remember Rachel?” Rosalyn asked. “She’s Arabella’s friend. Mated to Cinaed. He’s—”
“A brave and good-hearted dragon,” Erelah jumped in. “Yes, I know of him.”
Rachel waved, beaming and giving Erelah’s belly as wide-eyed a look as Erelah imagined was on her face. Then Rachel ran a hand over her belly as Erelah often did. “Guess we’re going to have lots of dragon babies soon in the House of Smoke!”
“How long are you with child?” Erelah asked, glancing between their two forms.
“Four weeks. Same as you.” She smiled. It was difficult to tell over the screen, plus the diminutive woman was shorter than Erelah, but their bellies seemed about the same size. Her breasts were swollen even larger than Erelah’s, although she wasn’t sure how large they were to begin with. It wasn’t as if she needed to attend to these things.
But she nodded slowly. This was reassuring. “Does your baby move?” She wasn’t sure if this was a proper question to ask.
“Hell yes,” Rachel said. “Some days it feels like an entire rugby team in there!”
“Rugby?” Erelah asked Rosalyn.
“It’s a sport.” Rosalyn waved that off. “Doesn’t matter. But you can see that you’re both the same, right? Those strapping dragon men just make really robust babies. And you both are crazy gorgeous. Makes me wish I could do another dragonling.”
“Anytime you’re ready!” Leonidas’s voice came from off-screen.
Rosalyn scowled in his direction. “We don’t even know if that will work.”
Leonidas edged into the corner of the screen. He looked weary but happy. “Yet, I am totally down for trying.” He held baby Thorn in his arms, cradling the child, who was as beautiful as any angeling and radiated innocence in his sleep.
It was that sight which finally soothed her. Somehow the world ceased to matter—the danger, the treaty, the many forces who wished to stop her baby from breathing his first breath. All she wanted was to hold her own dragonling in her arms.
“Erelah, honey… are you okay?” Rosalyn’s concern reached through the screen and drew her away from gazing at little Thorn.
“Yes.” She was surprised to find tears glassing her view. She blinked them away. “Thank you,” she said to Rosalyn. Then to Rachel, “The House of Smoke will be blessed with both our dragonlings.”
“Well…” Rachel smirked. “Yours more than mine, Miss Angel. But okay.”
“No.” Erelah said it a little too forcefully, judging by the shock on their faces. “My child will bring peace. A renewal of the treaty. But the whole reason for it—the whole reason for peace—is so dragonlings such as yours can be born.”
“Okay, now… stop with that!” Rachel complained. “You’re going to make me cry.” She blinked and looked off-screen and wiped at her eyes. “Damn pregnancy hormones.” She grumbled something else then trundled away. Leonidas went after her with the baby.
Only Rosalyn remained, but she was beaming. “I made two pregnant ladies cry today. Go me!”
“I did not cry.” But Erelah could hardly contain her smile.
“Yes, you did. I saw you. Besides, aren’t angelings always supposed to tell the truth?” she teased.
“That is the fae.” Erelah tamed her smile. “Although, I do strive for the Truth in all things, occasionally a small lie is more important.” She knew that a simple Truth existed even in falsehoods.
Rosalyn’s smile slowly dimmed. Then she bit her lip and nodded. “I wish I could be there to hold your hand when this baby comes, Erelah.”
“I will be fine,” she said with a smile.
“I know.” Rosalyn nodded once to affirm this. “But you were there for me. You saved me… and my baby. I just wish… I wish there was something I could do.”
“You have.” Her smile grew. “And very soon our dragonlings will meet. And I will have need of your help then, princess of the House of Smoke.”
“Yeah?” She brightened. “How so?”
“I was taken from my mother at birth. Raise in a cohort by an angel.”
Rosalyn’s expression took on a kind of horror.
Erelah smiled. “It was not so awful. But I never knew…” She struggled for the right words to explain. “This love that I have with Leksander. And now the baby. It is all new to me. I don’t know how to… I don’t know the proper way to raise a child.”
“Sister, none of us do.” Rosalyn reached to the screen and held her hand to it.
Erelah felt compelled to do the same.
“We’ll figure it out together, okay?” Rosalyn said.
Erelah smiled. “Agreed.”
Then they said their goodbyes, but for the first time since Erelah realized she was carrying this special soul in her womb, she finally felt… at peace.
She shuffled back to the bed, crawled across the expanse of it, then sunk down on her side, nestling up to one of the pillows. She had awoken not long ago, but already sleep was stealing over her again.
Two weeks.
In two weeks, she would carry her baby in her arms.
Water sloshed up on Leksander’s chest.
He was sitting in a pool he had conjured in his great room, next to the windows where the sunlight streamed in and illuminated Erelah like a goddess. A true angel of light with pink-flushed skin and snow-white wings. A goddess who was riding his cock like she planned to ruin him with it.
And he was—utterly ruined for any other woman in the universe.
“Are you sure you’re all right, my love?” he gasped out between her magic-assisted downward slams. It was possible he could drown under the waves she was making. They were certainly slopping over the sides, flooding the great room floor, and splashing the windows. But he was getting close… so close… he might also die if she stopped.
“Have I fatigued you, dragon prince?” she asked breathily as she slammed down on him. Her belly at the five-week mark was a hindrance to many of their favored positions. But as she gripped the edge of the pool, gaze tipped up to the window, lips parted, he suspected this might be a new favorite of hers. He definitely liked it when she took charge like this, pushing him down on the submerged bench and having her way with him.
“I can never get enough of you, angel girl.” God, his voice was tight. Just like his balls. And his body. And the climax rushing at him. He slipped a hand to her nipple, already tight with the pleasure of riding him, and pinched. He slid the other hand down the tight round of her belly to where their bodies met—where she slid up and down his shaft. He found her nub and flicked, trying desperately to get her there before he—
She shifted her grip to rake her nails across his chest.
“Aahh!” he ground out. His climax rushed at him, taking him by surprise. He convulsed under her, gripping her hips under the water as she kept riding him. She was humming, then crying out softly, then louder… and louder…
He felt her climax work his cock as her angelsong shook the windows.
The sound faded.
Her movement slowed.
The water stopped threatening to drown him.
He slid his hands along her wet skin, marveling that she was here, carrying his child, still wrenching mind-blowing orgasms out of him. Five weeks. Nearly time for the baby… the tension of it was almost unbearable, so Leksander refused to think of it. They made love, ate, and slept. Even his check-ins with his brothers had dropped down to every three days. He lived in the moment—loved in the moment—and that was all that mattered.
Erelah settled in his lap, his cock still deep inside her. “The water is very pleasant,” she murmured as she ran her fingers through his drenched hair.
“The water, hm?” He slid his hands up to cup her breasts. “Not your mate? The one you just pounded into oblivion?”
She peered down at him over the swelling mounds of her breasts. She was well endowed before the pregnancy—now, it was like she was bursting with womanl
iness. Just the sight of her had him hard most of the time.
“My mate is also very pleasant.” She grinned.
“Hm.” He smirked and lifted her off his cock, separating their bodies. He’d conjured the water to be the perfect temperature on their skin, but it was nothing like the tight heat and magic when he was buried inside her. However, the water made it easier for him to float her slightly away, so he could slip off the pool bench and around behind her. “I think I want to strive for something more toe-curling than pleasant.” He reached from behind and guided her hands to grip the edge of the pool again. She was still facing the windows, but now she was standing with him behind her. His cock wasn’t quite ready to follow up on this position, but soon. In the meantime, he slipped a hand between her legs.
She squirmed, rubbing her adorable bottom against his cock, but she didn’t complain.
Neither did he.
The view out the window was mostly blue sky—from this angle, it was hard to see the sprawling forest below the keep. The tips of the nearest mountain tops were just visible. It was bright and hazy, and with absolutely no clouds in the sky, it was hard to picture there was anything but peace in the world.
Erelah was literally purring under his tender ministrations.
Or humming. Something. “What is that?” he asked.
“Angelsong,” she whispered. She was still rubbing her bottom against his front, and they had a nice little rhythm going now.
“Does it mean something?” He kept up with her but didn’t rush it. He needed a little more time yet.
“Joy. Love. Peace.” She stopped her seductive gyrations against him and twisted to look at him over her shoulder. “The baby sings too.”
“Yeah?” The baby. Their baby. How quickly he had become used to the idea, yet still it was foreign and new. “I guess that makes sense. He’ll be an angeling after all.” Which also seemed strange. He’d relentlessly thought of the baby as a dragonling.
“And dragonling. He will be both.” She gave him a single nod as if this was right and natural and good. It made sense—his father was a dragon and his mother an angeling.
