by Viola Grace
A tingling sensation started in her skin and George knew it was time. The hiding in the open was over and the glamour was down. She kept her back to Rikard as he came to the sudden awareness that she was a dragon. She held perfectly still, but her senses were on overdrive.
She could feel his power skating along her skin. He was much older than he had let on. In truth, even her mother hadn’t known how old he was. That fact alone frightened her. It meant that the time that Arabel had met him, he had hidden his power from her.
Now he was hiding nothing, and that was the most chilling thing of all.
His footsteps sounded behind her, a brush of hardened leather against carpet and then tile. She deliberately did not look over her shoulder. Without touching her, he leaned in and exhaled along the line of her neck.
From left to right, he scented her, breathing her in as if to memorize her.
A shiver ran through her as his own aura enveloped her, she dug her nails into her palms to keep from reaching for him.
“Strange. You smell like a dragon.” His tongue darted out to the side of her neck and she almost moaned, “You taste like a dragon. But up until just now I was willing to bet that you were a regular mage.”
Suddenly, he spun her, then gripped her by the upper arm and pulled her up to face him. “Are you truly what you seem to be?”
She swallowed. “Do you see me as a dragon? Power, an aura of flight and the wild night dancing in my soul?”
“I see you as mine.” That was the end of polite conversation for some time as his mouth took hers in a wild joining that set her blood on fire.
Chapter Two
As hard as his grip was, she held her own, grabbing handfuls of hair and keeping their mouths together. His groan of approval made her smile, which let his tongue tangle and twist with her own.
It wasn’t enough. They were still too far apart. Getting a firm grip on him, she used a fair portion of her supernatural strength to turn him and slam him into the wall so that she could use one hand on the sconce to steady herself as she pressed her hips into his.
They were fairly close in height, so it didn’t take much to align their bodies, and by the time Rikard had recovered from the shock George was grinding against him, the contact through her clothing spreading a damp heat between them.
“You will follow my lead, Grace.” He pulled her away from him by the expedience of gripping her hair firmly.
“I am not good at following leads, Rikard. I tend to blaze my own path.” As she spoke, she ran her hand down his chest to the hard length that was threatening to burst the zipper of his trousers.
He reversed their positions and slammed her against the wall, hard enough to break the plaster and cause the sconce to drop from the wall. “You will submit to me today, Grace. And every day hereafter.” He held her to the wall with the pressure of his hips on hers and she was already squirming against him.
“Says you. I am not one to stay put.” Challenge flashed in her eyes. Her fingers tore at his clothing and shreds of fine linen were soon decorating the floor. Her manicurist would kill her.
“Enough of this.” He pulled her legs around his hips and walked out of the morning room, down a hall, up a flight of stairs and into the master bedroom.
Their route was marked by their clothing as it was torn off by one or the other on the way to the bed. She squealed as he tipped her onto the sheets, then shrieked again as he took one breast in his mouth with a suddenness that left her breathless. He could not fit the entire mound in his mouth, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t trying.
The burning pulse of pain and pleasure caused her hips to arch against him in a silent plea. She was writhing in heat and waves of sensation as he switched his attentions from one breast to the other, teasing the nipples ferociously in turn.
Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she gasped and moaned as he moved two fingers between her thighs to tease at her slit.
Dampened with her juices, he twirled those fingers around her clit and she screamed as the flames of lust consumed her from head to toe, magic released as her body did.
Rikard did not let up, but kept his fingers running around her sensitive nub until she shrieked again, losing her breath as sparks shot from behind her eyes.
When she finally ceased to shake in reaction, Rikard spread her thighs and settled between them. She had not yet seen his cock, but it felt larger than was comfortable as he slowly moved into her.
It was a short series of rocking thrusts that took him into her to the hilt. She felt stuffed and squirmed for relief of the pressure. Apparently, this was his cue to begin to pound into her with savage purpose.
Her body slowly caught onto his rhythm, then had to start again as he shifted up on his heels, raised her right leg over her body and laid her on her side. Her left leg was positioned between his thighs and this position left her wide open to him, which he exploited in seconds.
Sliding home once again, he supported her right leg as he thrust and slid into her, her breasts bounced, her breath caught, and the complete pressure on her from anus to clit had her shrieking in release over and over again, until she finally begged him to stop.
He lay them down and took her from behind, spoon fashion, slapping his hips into hers with a steady rhythm until he groaned and shuddered in his own release.
Graylin was unsurprised to feel teeth dig into her neck as he came upon his release. She leaned back into the bite and let him have his munch.
When he emptied into her he relaxed, but stayed within her. He held her tightly against him and fell asleep with the sun streaming in through the open windows.
* * * *
By the time she awoke, the blinds had been pulled down. His hands were running over her and flames were consuming her once again.
It was slower this time, but just as hard as they came together in a whirlwind of passion. He simply felt right. No lover she had ever had had felt this right.
There was no need to temper her strength or hold back, and as his tongue delved between her thighs, her hands shredded the bedding, feathers flew and fabric screamed along with her own voice as she came.
Snarling in frustration she flipped him to his back, writhing against him until she felt his cock seated within her to the hilt. The talons that her fingers had become dug into his chest as she rode him, her wings breaking through her skin as she savagely took what she wanted.
Her tail wrapped around one of the bedposts and anchored her as she flexed her hips and slid across his sweaty skin.
Rikard’s growl preceded a howl of triumph as his body arched beneath hers, carrying her into the air and holding her there as his balls discharged their cargo of scalding semen. Her flesh welcomed him and she laughed in triumph, exposing her fangs to the darkness as she took his release into her and revelled in it.
His hands teased her body, kept the flames of sensation heating her blood as his erection came to life inside her once again.
This time he was having none of it. He pushed her aside, took his own draconic form and drove into her from behind. The sensitive skin between her wings was vulnerable as he ran his tongue along her spine.
George’s tail wrapped around his thigh and kept him close with alarming strength. Her climax was elusive, she was more aroused now than she had ever been but she couldn’t cum. It was only when she felt his body cover her completely, his hands holding her hips and his teeth finding her neck that she rocked and shook as the coil of tension released.
Pleasure and pain combined, her body sang in triumph as it felt the chemical cocktail of his venom hit her bloodstream. This was how dragons mated. Lust, blood and sex; all in a chemical blend that was designed to get her pregnant.
Too bad she was on magical contraceptives. They might just have to do this again.
Chapter Three
It was only when the dawn beat its way through the gaps in the blind that she stirred again. She twisted in the remnants of the sheets and grunted as her shou
lder pulsed in complaint. It was time to go.
Carefully, trying not to wake the sleeping beast beside her, she shifted toward the end of the bed. As soon as she swung her feet off a hand clamped around her wrist and pulled her back with a thud as she hit his chest.
“Morning, Rikard. Well, it’s been fun, but I have to get going now.” It was a blatant lie, but she wasn’t going to let him just claim her and hide her away.
“You are not going anywhere. Where did you come from? Who are your parents? Why aren’t you registered?” He rumbled his questions in her ear as his hand kept her firmly pressed against his morning erection.
“Well, I will answer the ‘where did I come from,’ question. My mother didn’t want to be kept by a male and so arranged to run into one while in dragon form, and while she was in heat. Nature took its course a mile or two above the ground in Realm; she knocked him down and flew away.”
“A year later, she laid an egg in the mortal world, and twenty years later, I hatched.” That was it. Well, there was a lot more to it.
He didn’t speak again for several minutes. “You are an egg-hatch? I thought that those were only a legend.” His hands and his entire body were still. Playtime was over.
“Apparently not. I know that it isn’t common for a flight mating to result in pregnancy, but it does if the dragon is willing to remain in larger form for the entire year. If she shifts at any time in that year before laying, the egg is lost to the magic of transformation.” Her mother had explained the facts of life to her very early in her life, while she was an egg actually.
Well, she had been a fully-formed adult when she hatched, so it made a certain sense. Her twenty years in the egg had been spent listening to her mother teaching her. Spells, facts of life, facts of dragon life, and how to live amongst humans. When she emerged, she was fully formed and had all the knowledge that she had been taught in the shell.
It had still taken years for her to move and speak like a real human, but her mother’s estate had given her plenty of room to grow, to master her forms and her magic. When she had gone to the county fair at the age of fifteen, she had met the other members of the club, and she had discovered friends.
Hookey began the glamour that would conceal them for the next nineteen years on that very day. It let them all breathe a little easier and kept their parents calmer. The girls could now practice their magic without having someone seeking out their growing power.
“Why did your mother hide your existence from your father?”
“She never told me. I assumed that she just wanted to be a single parent.”
“Where were you going when I grabbed you?”
“I was heading home. It’s been fun, but I have places to be, spells to sell.” She shrugged and tried to be nonchalant. Her confinement in his arms made it difficult.
“I don’t think so. Not until I make you mine. Including in the eyes of the council.” His mind made up, he let her go and rolled to his feet. In an instant, he had retrieved something from under the bed, and a second later he had her ankle in his hand and was snapping a cuff around it. A delicate and deceptively sturdy chain was dangling from the cuff.
“What the hell are you doing, Rikard?” She tugged at the cuff and swore softly.
“I am not going to unshackle you until I have returned here with the council’s approval of our mating, and your official registration. Sometime before lunch.” He smirked at her and walked to the doors that opened onto his balcony. With a smouldering glance over his shoulder at her, he leapt off the balcony and transformed on his way down. A ferocious black dragon hovered with his eye looking in the window for a moment, and then he was off to his gateway to Realm. Off to speak to the Dragon Council.
“Shit!” A few more futile tugs at the cuff and she gave up. “Right. Plan B.”
A cursory look at her surroundings let her know that Rikard was a neat freak, last night to the exception, and he favoured oak for his dressers and wardrobes. She stepped off the bed and then noted that the chain led to a neat coil that would be enough length to let her in the en suite bathroom. She shrugged then used the facilities for her morning ablutions.
On her way back to the bed she noted a pile of clothing. It was her skirt. Hope flared in her. She fumbled with the zippered pocket and was rewarded with her cell phone. Success!
A blush formed as she prepared to make the call that would set their courtship in motion. She hit her speed dial and was nibbling at a lock of hair as the other phone rang.
“Okay, Hex, how did you know?” George was genuinely curious as she held the cell phone to her ear and swung her free leg off the edge of the bed. Her mind was recalling the last meeting of the club, when Hex had offered her help when George needed it.
“I saw it. I didn’t know exactly when, but I did see you in trouble.” Silence fell. “What do you need?”
“I need you to get me the heck out of here.” She grumbled it as clearly as she could.
“Can’t you fly out?”
She hissed, “I can’t transform with this stupid shackle on my leg. He chained me to the bed, Hex!” Now that the shock was over, she was furious.
“He chained you?” The laughter in the mage’s voice was not something that George appreciated.
“Yep. There is just enough play to let me get to the bathroom and back, but my clothes are nowhere to be found. I need help here.” She didn’t want to admit that her clothing was in a shredded heap.
“Where is he right now?”
“He flew off at dawn, about five minutes after he locked me in place. He said he would be back for lunch.” She looked out the window warily.
“Is there a large mirror nearby?”
“Oh, Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Yeah, there is one right across from the bed.”
“Touch it and hold on until I come through, Okay?”
“You bet, I’m on it now.” She reached out to flatten her palm against the cool slick surface of the mirror.
Seconds later, the mirror it began to ripple and shimmer. A hand appeared in the silver pool, then a foot, then seconds later Hex stepped through. Shimmering with energy, she looked ready for battle. She stopped short and took in the scene, fighting a laugh. “Wow, looks like you had a lot of fun last night.”
* * * *
She surveyed the room. Sconces were askew on the walls, pillows had been disemboweled and the sheets were escaping the confines of the bed. The ambiance of the room was also heavily colored by the scent of sex that hung in the air.
Perched on the edge of the bed was her friend, Graylin Treel. Known to the half-blood club as George, was splendidly nude. Black waves of hair partially concealed the love bites and bruises that decorated her golden skin. Her black eyes were tired but shining.
“Yeah, it was tons of fun. I just want this damn shackle off so that I can get the hell out of here and contemplate trying it again.” Her left leg lifted slightly and waved in the air to cause a gentle jingling noise.
“Uh, why did he shackle you?” Hex knelt down and began to chant in a low tone. Energy built up and surrounded the cuff.
“Something about making sure that I was here when he got back.” George watched carefully and sighed.
* * * *
No matter how closely she watched, she would never be able to pull off the spell with as much dexterity as Hex. It did seem a shame that with all that talent, she would never be acknowledged as one of the greatest powers of the modern age unless she joined the aegis of the high council.
With a shimmering pop, the cuff released.
“C’mon. I think I hear something.” Hex looked uneasy as the air filled with the presence of power approaching rapidly.
“Me too. Let’s go.” She jumped off the bed and stood next to the mirror.
Hex raised her palm to the mirror and began to chant softly once again. The mirror turned into a pool of silver and she reached out to grab George’s hand as she began to enter the pool.
“Sh
it, let’s go!” She shoved Hex into the mirror as Rikard came into the bedroom at a full run.
His roar of rage followed the women through the mirror as they tumbled out the other side. Hex waved her hand frantically at the frame in her living room and it became a mirror once again.
“That was too close.” Hex slumped onto her couch and flipped an afghan at George.
Blushing slightly, she tucked the blanket around her naked form and scooted onto the other end of the couch.
“I am so sorry. I never meant for you to get involved.”
“Was that Rikard?”
“Yep.”
“As in, dragon council Rikard?”
“Yep.”
“As in, not going to stop until he finds you now that he knows you exist, Rikard?” Hex had her eyes closed, her head leaning back onto the couch.
“Yep.”
“As in, able to call upon the entire high council for a tracking spell to pinpoint your location at anytime, Rikard?”
Hex was really not making this sound good.
“Yep.”
“Well, you sure can pick ’em.” She sat up and eyed her friend. “How long do you think it will take for him to find you?”
“I think I have about a week. After that I am going to have to be ready to move very fast, very suddenly.” She sighed.
“Why him?” She sounded curious.
“I needed a dragon, right?” George waited for her nod. “So I did my research. Who was the best looking, who was not my father—that was a big one—and who had the best ratings in bed.”
“Whoa, how did you find that last one out?”
“I polled his ex-lovers. He likes it a little rough, very fast, and very often.” She blushed. “So do I.”
“So, it was good then?”
