by Delia Castel
As the music reached its finale, he twirled her into a low dip. “Excellent,” he murmured. “I’m looking forward to seeing where else your talents lie.”
She grimaced, and his stomach clenched. Marigold despised him! He straightened up and released her. Her long, relieved breath and the relaxing of her features was another blow to the gut. In all his interactions with she-dragons, none had ever shown him such obvious disdain. Not even Kaida when she had decided to mate with his cousin.
Her brows furrowed, as though to ask him whether he honestly believed she would respond to his flirtations when she had access to two better dragons? Matheson stared back, not knowing how to react. Marigold had not said anything outright—she hadn’t needed to. Not when she radiated every ounce of disgust with those fiery, green eyes. She stepped away and muttered, “I’ve been neglecting my guest.”
He flared his nostrils but held his silence. It was time to reclaim his dignity and leave. Turning to the other dancing couple, he said, “Ella, please instruct my lovely mate on how to curtsy.”
As he walked out of the room, he listened to the conversation. “Mother was a favorite of the late Queen Reina, as her fertility elixir helped her to conceive Princess Snowdrop. I used to go to the palace with her, as she wanted another daughter, so I perfected my curtsy.”
He pulled the door shut and headed for the entrance to the left, which led to an extension room used for dining. It had not been cleaned for ages, and he clapped his hands over his nose to muffle a sneeze. Berrin’s voice echoed through the room. “Your mother owned a chain of magical apothecary shops. Who is running them now?”
Matheson walked through the maze of tables to reach the wooden room dividers. They were lightweight, gilded frames set on castors, holding embroidered pictures. Connecting each frame were three hinges, evenly spaced over its length. The gap between them were large enough for Matheson to watch proceedings. Before he made the ultimate commitment, he had to observe her. Berrin might be a naive little brat, handed a power he didn’t deserve, but he was still his brother. If Marigold’s feelings toward him were false, he would probably die of grief.
While Ella explained how Lady Brimstone had sold each shop one-by-one and made Ella serve the buyers tea on her mother’s finest china, Matheson observed Marigold’s expressions. Her face had paled throughout the story, and she had not once looked at Berrin to make him see her compassionate expression. She seemed mortified for Ella’s plight and even asked the half-blood if she had any distant relatives who could represent her in court.
Matheson shook his head. He would have poisoned Lady Brimstone and the two horse-faced stepsisters for pillaging his family legacy. If he had the opportunity, he would do similar to that wretch, Uncle Hertz.
“Enough about my woes.” Ella turned to Marigold, somehow managing to sound brave. “You have a King to impress. Let me teach you to curtsy.”
Marigold stayed silent, and her face twisted, as though trying to work out what to say to Ella. Matheson supposed that after Ella had rejected their generous offer of coming to live with them as their ward, she didn’t know how else to convince her friend to leave the mad she-dragon who appeared to be under the influence of Uncle Hertz.
It was Berrin who broke the silence with false cheer. “Should I pretend to be the King?”
“Maybe later,” murmured Marigold. She pointed at the sumptuous velvet sofas lining the edge of the ballroom. “Go and sit over there on one of the chaises. We’ll call you when we are ready.”
“Yes, my ladies.” Berrin bowed with a flourish.
Matheson raised his brows. No wonder Marigold preferred his youngest brother. He’d been catering to her every whim since they had met. Berrin, the inexperienced fool, probably performed acts she would never request of a gentleman. Matheson’s cock stirred, and his lips formed a smile. What the wanton little strumpet didn’t realize was that he was well versed in every way to pleasure a woman. Lilac had never had any complaints.
In no time, Ella taught Marigold how to dip into a low curtsy. Each movement had the linen fabric straining over those plump breasts and prominent nipples. His mouth watered, cock straining against his breeches. If he ever got the chance….
Ella giggled. “You’re a natural at this!”
Matheson growled low. Marigold was a natural at more than curtseying.
The doors opened, and Polaris stepped in. Matheson strained to catch his expression. From Marigold’s wide eyes, it seemed that something bad had happened. His stomach twisted with apprehension, and Marigold asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I have just spoken with King Vulcan. The news isn’t good.” Polaris turned to Ella. “My apologies for not properly acknowledging you at the stagecoach station.”
She shook her head. “It’s all right. Before you say anything, you should know that your uncle and my stepmother sent me here to spy.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I see. Thank you for your… forthrightness.”
Berrin placed his hand on Ella’s elbow. “Why don’t we go upstairs and feed the griffins? I think Polaris and Marigold have a lot to discuss.”
Matheson’s jaw dropped. What was the fool doing? Leaving them alone would only lead to one thing, and it wouldn’t be a chaste, polite discussion.
“I remember the way,” said Ella. “Meet you upstairs?”
They stared after Ella, who hurried out of the room. As soon as the doors shut behind her, Polaris turned to Berrin. “What are you—”
“Even a blind dragon can see what’s going on between you two,” said Berrin.
Matheson nodded. But if he noticed how the pair wanted to devour each other, why leave them to discuss their mutual lust? He shook his head. The professors in St. Fafnir’s Academy for Male Fledglings obviously hadn’t taught him how to defend his mate from filthy interlopers.
Marigold’s breath caught. “I haven’t—”
“Berrin, I would never—”
He raised a hand. “I know you haven’t acted on your feelings, and I want you to know that it’s all right. At the Academy, we all grew up knowing that if we were lucky enough to find a she-dragon, we would not keep her to ourselves.”
Marigold threw herself at him, a sob in her voice. “I’m sorry for—”
“Don’t.” He grabbed her arms and murmured into her pretty, blonde curls. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than having us all happy together. I would never make you choose between us, Mari. However, I think the two of you need to discuss how you wish to proceed. The tension between you is rather uncomfortable.” Berrin backed out of the room, and the door clicked shut.
Matheson’s face drained. Not out of shock, but because every ounce of blood had rushed to his cock, which now felt ready to explode. He needed to leave, but his feet wouldn’t move. His heart sped up, pulsing in time with the organ threatening to burst through his breeches.
Marigold turned to Polaris. “I don’t know what to say.”
He cupped her cheek. “I never hoped to meet a she-dragon. None in their right mind would consider mating with an officer of the King’s Regiment.”
Marigold didn’t reply to his expression of self-pity. But then, if he were a she-dragon, he would ditch the staid General and clamber after his wealthy, titled brother with the handsomer face, flame-colored hair and larger cock.
His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “Even when we believed you were human, there was something about you that intrigued me.”
Marigold peeked up at him through her eyelashes. “Really?”
Matheson rolled his eyes. What was wrong with Polaris? Berrin had handed her to him like a Festival Week gift, and he didn’t have the common sense to throw her down and mate her until she roared his name!
Polaris gave her a stiff nod. “I’ve never met a female with a combination of beauty, strength, and fighting spirit. The dragon in me believes you would be a ferocious mate, capable of defending our young. I can’t tell you how compelling that is.”
Mari
gold flushed. Why, Matheson didn’t know. Berrin had likely murmured equally as cloying statements.
“I know some she-dragons have more than one mate, but I need a little more time to decide if that’s what I want.”
Matheson’s brows rose. Did she not know that a she-dragon could have as many mates as she desired? Most would jump at the chance of mating with one of the most powerful young dragons in Igneous, happy in the knowledge that she could move onto someone who offered more lucrative prospects, keeping him in reserve whenever she needed his strength… or body.
Polaris nodded. “I understand. I… wouldn’t have been in the position to mate with you, but I enjoyed the fantasy.”
Matheson scratched his head. As far as he knew, Polaris had no females in reserve. Not even a human mistress. If the King blessed Matheson and Marigold’s union, then Polaris would be free to join the haremage as a secondary mate. Most officers whose brothers were mated with she-dragons did this, and it was something that Father had planned for Kaida. He was about to draw back the room divider to explain this, when Polaris spoke.
“That being said, I would like to know, even if it is for once in my life, the pleasure of kissing a she-dragon as beautiful as you.”
Marigold’s hands slid up his chest, and Matheson’s heart stopped. Her fingertips brushed through his hair. Matheson jammed his eye into the gap between the frames of the room divider, not daring to breathe in case he interrupted her sweet seduction. It was clear to him that she had wanted Polaris to beg for a mating, and when he failed, she was using some of the femme-fatale techniques she had learned in prison. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. He was acting worse than the lechers who hung around the back of bathhouses, trying to catch a peek at the female bathers.
“Marigold,” said Polaris, “I—”
Her fingers wound around his neck, and she pulled him down for a kiss. Polaris, understandably, kissed back, and Marigold secured him in place with a forearm around his neck. Ignoring their pleasured moans, Matheson closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. The wench knew how to get what she wanted. If he stayed any longer, things would progress, and his brother would start pounding into that wanton little piece. He still had to dance with her this evening, and the last thing he wanted was a bulge the size of his forearm straining through his breeches at the palace ball.
He edged out of the side room, making sure not to disturb the furniture, and eased the door open. If he was quiet, no one would know he had stayed to watch. The door clicked shut, and he limped down the hallway, back to the main wing of the house. If Polaris had any sense, he would be undoing those tight, little breeches and tasting her quim. He licked his lips. That was what he planned to do if he ever got the chance.
The memory of her grimace returned like a bucket of festering urine, making his erection vanish. She hated him. He balled his fists. Why would Polaris, the one who had originally locked her in the wine cellar, get to enjoy that luscious she-dragon? He hadn’t yet avenged himself for that heinous magical purgative that had him writhing in his own vomit in front of Nanny. He turned on his heel and stalked back to the ballroom.
Whatever Polaris was doing, it seemed to be eliciting the most arousing groans from Marigold. He clenched his teeth. Not for long! He threw open the doors, and curled his lip, enjoying how Polaris bolted up from one of the sofas. “I came to check on your curtsy, but it appears that Polaris is doing an adequate job of inspecting your… abilities.”
Polaris made an annoyed grunt. “Must you use such innuendo?”
“Once again, you paint me as the villain. Be ready in four hours, Goldilocks.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “Although I’m not sure how Polaris will entertain you for the remaining three hours and fifty-eight minutes.” With a final smirk, he backed out of the room and closed the double doors.
He paused to listen to the aftermath of his interruption. After a bit of shuffling, Marigold said, “Maybe I should go look for Ella and Berrin.”
There was a pause, and Polaris replied, “Catch up with them later. Now that I’ve tasted you, I can’t let you go.”
Matheson rolled his eyes and hurried back to the main wing. He wanted to get out of earshot before Polaris gave her the good, hard fucking she deserved.
Chapter 13
Marigold’s heart thudded in her ribcage as fast as raindrops in a summer thunderstorm. Warmth flooded to her core, now slick with arousal. Polaris wrapped his arms around her waist. It was a good thing, because her head had turned into clouds and her legs to water. She gazed up into eyes that blazed like coals. Hot breath escaped his nostrils, making her tremble with anticipation. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. Sliding her arms down to his chest, she licked her lips, not knowing what to say. “I…”
“I’m going to have you. Any objections?”
Her mouth dried, her breath came in shallow pants, and all sensation rushed down between her legs. Every nerve ending ached for his touch. “Polaris, we—”
His lips crashed down on hers, teasing, demanding, and making her lose all thoughts of propriety, and she wrapped her arms around his strong, broad shoulders, digging her nails into the already torn fabric. She needed more. She needed to feel his skin under her fingertips, to kneed and caress those taut muscles. She needed him to take hold of her, to claim her, and to take his pleasure as she shuddered with ecstasy under his touch.
He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her neck. Securing her in place with one, firm hand on the small of her back, he slid his other hand to the swell of her breasts. Her breath caught, and her nipples hardened. He cupped one breast and groaned. “Tell me to stop.”
She held her silence, wanting more of his touch. Polaris’ kisses moved down to her collarbone, igniting a wildfire across her skin that spread straight to her core. She moaned, tilting her neck to the side, urging him to caress her more with those hot, strong lips. and the hand kneading her breast hovered over her top button. He murmured, “Say no.”
She couldn’t. Not when her body ached for him. Not when all she wanted was for him to throw her down on the sofa and take her. With hands as steady as a surgeon’s, he slipped the first button out of its hole and kissed her exposed flesh. He continued kissing and licking and unfastening lower and lower until he had opened the entire shirt. A draft cooled her fevered skin, making her shudder.
“Marigold.” He murmured into her belly button. “It’s not too late for us to turn back. Say the word, and I will stop.”
Her hands twisted into his dark brown hair, and she pulled him up. He was breathing as hot and hard as his dragon form. She cupped his face with both hands, making sure to hold his burning gaze. “I want you.”
His lips spread into a wide grin. “Then you have me.”
His eyes, which seemed to have darkened, sharpened into a predatory stare. Marigold’s stomach flipped, and she stepped back. This wouldn’t be the same as making love to sweet, safe Berrin, who took direction from her and would go at any pace she demanded. This was a fully-grown, experienced dragon. Her legs, which now trembled, took a few more steps back. Before Berrin, she’d never been with a shifter, she’d never been with any male except Unwin, who she couldn’t exactly describe as a beast.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m just a little nervous.”
“Don’t worry.” He stepped forward, mere inches away, and pinned her against the wall. “I will take care of everything.”
He started with the gentlest of kisses, each press of lips making her skin tingle and her thighs clench. While she moaned and shuddered under his touch, he slid the linen shirt off her shoulders, laying her upper half bare.
“You are exquisite.”
A warm flush suffused her cheeks. No one had ever called her that. The word in itself seemed too poetic for a servant girl like her. She didn’t have more time to ponder his choice of words, because he growled, bent down and sucked on her nipple.
Marigold�
�s internal muscles clenched with a yearning for him to fill her. How she wanted to clamp around his organ as he stretched her open! Her fingers, which she had threaded in his hair, moved to his jacket. She slid her hands under the heavy wool fabric and pushed it off his shoulders.
Polaris grinned up at her. “Is that your way of telling me to disrobe?”
“It’s not fair that I’m half dressed, and you’re covered up so much.”
“Ah…” He rolled a nipple with his fingers, which sent sparks of pleasure through her belly, fueling the flames of her arousal. “If the lady insists, I must divest myself.”
Marigold licked her lips. He was far more playful than she had imagined. Any feelings of apprehension about having sex with an experienced dragon evaporated. This was Polaris, after all, and she trusted him as much as she trusted Berrin. “Go on, then.”
He pulled himself up in one, graceful movement. Marigold’s gaze shot straight to his breeches, where a long, thick erection bulged up to his waistband. It was glorious, and she couldn’t wait for him to slide it between her slick folds and ravish her.
“I’m waiting,” she murmured.
“How remiss of me.” He undid the last few buttons of his King’s Regiment uniform jacket. There appeared to be claw marks over the epaulettes, but she didn’t want to distract him with questions. He slid the garment off his shoulders, letting it fall to the wooden floorboards. “I will endeavor to rectify the situation immediately.”
Marigold stroked her left nipple. She would have undone her breeches and fondled her nub while he stripped, but she wanted to climax under his ministrations.
