by Celia Kyle
And when the delicate scent of her arousal tickled his nose, he did not believe she wished to be released. She gave a tiny shake of her ass, eyes widening and focused entirely on him.
“Oh.” She swallowed hard, the muscles in her throat working, and his mind drifted to some of the vids he’d seen. Of females taking a male’s dick into her mouth, suckling and licking the length until he…
Ivoth shuddered and swallowed the moan that threatened to break free. He closed his eyes and bent his head to rest it on her shoulder. She trembled, her ass caressing his cock, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. He rested his hand on her and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Cease, shaa kouva. Please.” He kept his voice low but had no doubt that Whelon and Zadri both heard his plea and scented the sparking desire between them.
“A-a-as I was saying…” Her tone turned crisp and sharp, the voice she used when speaking with employees. She once told him it was her shield against the world, a way to separate herself from any troubles she had to face—a hard shell none could crack.
Yet Ivoth could, and that pleased him.
“His exam has to be thorough. My body has gone through a lot, and he can’t repair my Pol Muta—”
He lifted his head and stared at her, eyes narrowed as he sought her expression for any hint of subterfuge. “You wish to have it repaired?”
Elle jolted. “Of course.”
“To test if we are true mates? Even if the Knowing does not manifest, I will not release you. I have told you this, and I tell you again—you are my mate.” He would forever remember reciting the words—when overwhelming joy surrounded him as worry and fear sought to overtake him.
Yes, he said the words, but she had not heard them.
“You were unconscious the last time. I will repeat them for you. By Earth treaty, I lay claim—”
Cool fingertips pressed to his lips, silencing him with that simple movement. “I don’t need to hear them. I trust you.”
He was not sure if he should believe her, but he did not have a chance to question her further. Not when an ear-splitting screech cut through the air. That was followed by Charlie bursting through the wall, the quasti using its abilities to escape whatever sent him racing for safety. He did not bother shielding himself from the world and seemed only intent on running.
And hiding.
The animal skidded to a stop at the center of the room and spun in place. His movements were frantic and sharp, as if fear spurred him beyond clear thought, though Charlie had focus once he caught sight of Ivoth.
Mate f-am! The animal screeched and raced toward Ivoth, claws and paws tearing across the ground. The moment he drew near enough, the quasti launched itself at him, catching the katoth with ease and then using it to crawl up Ivoth’s body. He did not stop until he reached Ivoth’s shoulders and burrowed beneath the long hair at the base of his neck, hiding from view.
“Charlie?” Elle’s voice trembled, and Ivoth knew that great emotion filled her.
Hot. Cha buh-urn.
Hot? Young burn?
“Charlie? What…” Elle slid from Ivoth’s lap, and he was torn between reassuring his mate and discovering why Charlie wished to burrow inside Ivoth’s flesh.
“CharlemKle’phi-juewee, young burns?” He waited for the quasti to explain, but soon no explanation was necessary.
The fiery scream was enough. It rose above all other sounds, the squealing shout a combination of anger and sadness with an edge of fiery heat.
And Ivoth sighed. “Lorrasyh spied you. I instructed you to remain hidden around the dragonlets, did I not?”
Not cha.
Ivoth growled. “I understand you are not a young, but quasti cannot protect against Preor flames, can they?”
Charlie grumbled, but quickly fell silent.
The screams grew closer.
“Ivoth, are you talking to him? I can’t hear—”
The soft slap of palms on metal announced that Charlie had been hunted. He would praise the dragonlet for a successful pursuit… Once he reminded her that she could not release her flames on Charlie.
Ivoth grasped Elle’s waist and carefully lifted her from his lap, replacing her on the platform. “One moment, shaa kouva.”
“But…”
He knew her question and hated the answer he would have to give.
Make sad cha.
Yes, he knew it would sadden Elle.
Cha mad CharlemKle’phi-juewee?
“No, I do not believe so,” he quietly murmured, and the quasti’s relief flowed through him on a gentle wave. Elle was hurt by her friend’s absence, but he did not believe she remained angry over Charlie’s actions. “You should have returned. The quasti are not cowards.”
Charlie did not reply and merely sniffed. Send hot cha way.
The quasti sounded like he believed ridding them of a determined Lorrasyh was so simple.
“Ivoth, would you like me to secure the dragonlet?” Zadri called out, and Ivoth waved the male away.
Ivoth was determined to have dragonlets of his own someday, even if they did not share his blood and were fully human. He’d resolved himself to learning the care of the miniature Preor.
“I am able to care for Lorra.” He released another sigh and kneeled in front of the door, prepared to catch the sobbing dragonlet. “Penelope, open the door.”
Unfortunately, Ivoth was positioned to capture a crawling dragonlet that breathed fire. Not two flying dragonlets that released random bouts of flame across the room.
Shanas clutched his elder sister in his small arms, his small wings fluttering and fighting to keep them aloft, and both giggled and laughed while they buzzed around the room— setting everything aflame.
Each object their fire touched burst into sparks of red and yellow, and it touched many objects as they flew a random path from one side to another. Both dragonlets squealed and cried out with joy, doubly so when Ivoth leapt into the air to catch Shanas’ small ankle and missed.
Soon Zadri joined in their game, fighting to capture the fire-spouting dragonlets before they destroyed the space. All the while Charlie clung to Ivoth’s flesh, digging his small nails into his skin and demanding he destroy the “hot cha.”
Not long after, Whelon attempted to help, spreading his wings and fighting to herd the dragonlets into a single corner.
But the ceilings were too high and their movements too nimble. Shanas might struggle to keep them in the air, but he was still quick. Ivoth would praise the dragonlet if he wasn’t attempting to grab him.
And all the while, Elle… laughed. She giggled and chuckled, and when he glanced at her, he found joy in her features.
Pure joy. It’d been too long since he’d seen her smile.
And her next movements made him believe he’d never see her smile again. Because Elle climbed atop the ryaapir unit, but that was not the worst. The worst was when she hopped and captured the volatile Lorrasyh with a tinkling laugh. She spun in place, holding the dragonlet high while she squealed with the young.
“I’ve got you! Yes, I do!” She spun again, still whirling when Ivoth reached her side.
But his attention wasn’t on his spinning mate. It was on the dragonlet in her arms. The dragonlet who drew in a great breath, her tiny chest expanding as she opened her mouth wide. The dragonlet whose eyes flickered yellow with hints of red. The dragonlet whose arms soon shined with purple scales.
The dragonlet who prepared to release a large gout of flame at his mate.
“Elle!” Ivoth shouted for his mate’s attention.
“Lorrasyh!” Zadri yelled at the dragonlet with a tone that frightened all Preor warriors.
“No!” Even Whelon roared at the dragonlet.
While Elle… just laughed and tossed Lorra into the air. Lorra went high, gusting out the ball of flame she’d gathered before Elle caught her once more.
Then they repeated the movement again. Toss, flame, catch. Toss, flame, catch.
“Last tim
e Lorra-bora…” Toss, flame, catch… and squeal from the dragonlet.
Elle carefully lowered herself back to the platform, Lorrasyh in her arms, and soon Shanas plopped onto the hard surface at her side, using her arm to pull himself upright.
“Elle,” Ivoth rasped. “You cannot…”
“Cannot what?” She cooed the words, attention on the dragonlets and not him.
He gently grasped her chin and encouraged her to lift her gaze to his. “You cannot risk yourself so. I could not bear losing you again.”
Ivoth waited for her argument—the same argument they repeated each time he attempted to place a claim on her. Yet this time, she didn’t. She looked at him, looked into him, and gifted him with a feeling of love so deep and profound he nearly fell to his knees. It was her love, the emotions she had not put to voice again since that day in the clearing. But he didn’t need the words. He had her emotions—their connection.
And that was enough.
For now.
21
If Elle didn’t look at him, she could ignore his fierce glares and the green scales covering his skin. She could ignore the twitching of his wings, too—pretend that she didn’t notice every single indication that Ivoth was pissed.
But just because she didn’t give him her attention didn’t mean she could ignore his emotions. The connection they shared grew stronger with every second, every moment they shared together. His emotions reached out for her, his dragon-self stretching beyond the barrier of skin and flesh to caress her mind. A gentle nudge from the dragon, a tender stroke from Ivoth. Even when angry, he was gentle.
Sweet. Fiercely sweet, but still sweet.
And very, very protective.
“I believe this is a mistake,” he growled, gaze on her as she padded around the room.
Nervousness had her pacing, fiddling with things in the condo while constantly checking her makeup, straightening her clothes, and inspecting her hair. A Davenport didn’t leave the house looking anything but perfect. Especially if she was going to see another Davenport.
Or rather, the Davenport.
“Elle…” That growl turned into a snarl and then he was behind her, his warmth bathing her back, and she ached to lean into him, yearned to let him take her weight—and her troubles. But that wasn’t fair—to him or the Preor.
This had to be handled. It needed to be done. She could not have a future with the threats hanging over her head. Once her father—and possibly Ben—were handled, she could let herself love Ivoth again.
She turned to face him, their bodies mere inches apart, and she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. He was so tall, so massive. Over six feet of muscle and male and… and all hers. If she was willing to reach out and take him.
“It will be fine,” she soothed and hoped he didn’t hear the lie in her voice.
“You do not know this.”
“Of course I do.” What was the old saying? Fake it ‘til you make it? That was what she would do.
Ivoth eased closer, what little space between them gone with the slight shift of muscle. “No, you do not.”
His bare chest brushed hers, and she’d never hated the trappings of being a Davenport more than at that moment. She hated the layers of cloth she had to wear, the precisely cut skirt-suit, neutral hued blouse beneath then followed by a bra. Each piece blunting the feel of his touch, but nothing could banish his scent—the spicy aroma that teased her nose and had her nipples pebbling in an instant. She wanted to rub all over him, make sure his scent coated her from head to toe. Her mouth watered, and she wondered if he’d taste as good as he smelled.
The mere thought of tasting him made her pussy clench and clit twitch, arousal caressing her flesh, and she fought back the shudder attempting to travel through her body.
Ivoth breathed deep and released the breath slowly, a wicked grin teasing his lips. “We could remain here, in the condo.” His husky voice caressed her like a physical touch, the rough tones touching her in all the right places. “I could prove my worth as a mate.”
And those words were enough to stomp on the hints of need his presence stoked. She dropped her head forward, forehead resting on his chest with a thump, and released a frustrated groan. So. Much. Frustration. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“I do not understand.”
She knew he didn’t, which made things that much more frustrating. “It’s not about proving yourself worthy, Ivoth.”
“It must.”
She shook her head, forehead remaining in place. “No, this meeting and the delay in curing my Pol Mutation have nothing to do with our…” She licked her lips, hesitating because she still couldn’t wrap her head around everything. “…Our mating.”
Though, in truth, the only thing she couldn’t understand was Ivoth wanting her. Even though there was a chance the Knowing didn’t manifest when her Pol Mutation was healed, he wasn’t going to let her go.
“I still do not understand why you choose to be difficult.” He wrapped his arms around her, one palm settling on her lower back while the other traced her spine. He pulled them together even more snugly, not a hint of space existing between them.
Which was when she felt him—him. Ivoth’s thick cock that filled his katoth pants, proof of his arousal and desire for her. The simmering desire she’d experienced sparked back to life, her body responding to his need.
“We could stay here. Even if you do not ever repair your Pol Mutation, I would remain your mate. I would show you pleasure, Elle.” He lowered his head and nuzzled the side of her neck. “I would give you all. You do not have to speak with him ever again.”
So very, very tempting. But she couldn’t have a future, one free of anxiety and worry, if she didn’t deal with her father and brother first. She wasn’t going to live in a bubble for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t pass the years constantly looking over her shoulder.
She brought her hands up and rested them on his biceps, relishing the feel of his hot skin beneath her palms. “I want it done. I want that part of my life closed first. Then we can talk about the future.”
He grunted. “I do not wish to talk.”
No, he wished to do other things. Things he’d explained in precise detail when he’d initially tried to dissuade her from her plans. But she’d stayed strong.
So far.
She nuzzled him in return, taking comfort in his firm embrace, the feel of his powerful, massive body surrounding her. He’d protected her with his body once, and she didn’t want him to ever be forced to do that again.
Elle brushed her lips over the skin on his neck, giving him the lightest of kisses before she leaned away. “I have to do this.”
“I wish to do this.” Ivoth rocked his hips, and she shuddered, the jolt of arousal too big to suppress.
She snorted and traced his arms, caressing his shoulders before she twined her fingers together at the base of his neck. “I know you do.”
His grin was filled with sensual promise—a promise she wanted him to keep. Eventually. “So I shall—”
She tugged on a lock of his hair. “No. You shall not.”
A soft ding caught their attention, and Ivoth slumped and blew out a low huff. “I am not happy with this…”
“But you’ll stay with me and protect me anyway.” She stepped out of his now loose embrace and went to the condo’s entry. A press of her thumb to the identipad had the doors parting to reveal the rest of Ivoth’s team.
They’d protected her in the past because she was a friend of Preor. They protected her now because she was a Preor, even if it’d only been a verbal claiming.
Two males stood shoulder to shoulder in the hallway, the other two members of the team with their backs to her, their focus on watching for anyone that dared to approach. They could turn vigilance into an Olympic sport.
“We ready to go?” Her professional smile fell into place with practiced ease. She looked from Triem and Argan before half-turning to beckon Ivoth. “You ready?”
Ivoth stomped forward. “I still disagree—”
“Ivoth disagrees? So, we do not have to do this stoo-pid thing?” Triem nodded. “Excellent. We shall proceed to medical and—”
“It’s not stupid. It’s not the smartest thing to do in the world, but it’s not stupid.” She glared at Triem. “And we’re still going. Just because he—”
“Your mate,” Argan interjected, and she glared at him, too.
“—disagrees doesn’t mean I’m going to listen to him. He’s my mate, not my keeper.”
Brukr glanced over his shoulder, a confused frown turning his lips down. “He is the keeper of your safety. Thus, your keeper.”
“I…” She shook her head. “I don’t have time to explain how wrong you are.” She held out her hand for Ivoth. “Ready?”
“If I must.” He sounded like Lorrasyh and Shanas when they didn’t want to eat their vegetables.
“You must.” Her professional smile slipped into a real one for a moment.
Until Charlie scampered into view—Charlie who hadn’t come to her since she’d woken. He hadn’t spared her more than a brief glance or even attempted to talk to her mentally.
Instead, he clung to Ivoth, and she… she wasn’t going to be hurt by that. She wasn’t. Yes, he’d physically hurt her, but his neglect was worse.
Not that she was allowing herself to be hurt. She wasn’t. She just had to remind herself occasionally.
Or all the time.
Charlie hopped and clung to Ivoth’s pants, using the katoth to climb up her mate. He used the straps of Ivoth’s uniform, as well, and was soon perched on the Preor warrior’s shoulder.
Watching her friend—her only family—shower love on Ivoth was too much for her at that moment, and she turned back to the entry and strode through the front door. “Let’s get going, then. Can’t be late.”
Davenports were never late.
“Shaa kouva,” Ivoth murmured in her ear, arm curling around her waist while he pulled her to stand beneath his wing. “You will always be at my side, beneath my wing. You are determined to do this, but it will be done as I desire.”
