The Dragon's Rebellious Sacrifice: a Dragon Shifter Romance (The Last Dragons Book 4)

by Ines Johnson

  “I don’t like sex,” she said.

  That smelled true. Ilia straightened and regarded her. "You don't like sex?"

  "Of course not. I'm a woman. Sex is for men."

  “I don’t believe that’s the way the Goddess designed it to work.”

  "Men trade favors for sex," she said.

  "I told you, I won't force you.” Ilia couldn’t abide the doubt on her face. But he also smelled the bittersweet heat coming off her pores. She wanted him. She just wasn’t ready to admit it. That was fine by him. They had forever. “In fact, I won't touch you until you beg me to."

  "So you won't touch me unless I want you to? Unless I say it?”

  Rose broke out into a smile, and Ilia lost his breath.

  "Deal,” she said.

  Ilia took her hand. A trail of heat skittered up his arm. He saw her shiver before she yanked her hand away.

  "So, what do you do with a woman if you're not going to fuck her?"

  Ilia's face split into a grin. "Loads! Let me show you."

  Chapter Twelve

  If she heard the woman scream one more time, Rose was going to bang her head against the wall.

  On the screen, a scantily-clad, pixilated woman raised a hand to her head. Or at least Rose thought that was a hand. The graphics on this game were too bad to tell for sure.

  A dot-grid brute picked up the pixilated princess and ran off with her. The brute could’ve been an ape or a dragon? The color blocking was all over the place with greens and browns. So Rose couldn’t tell.

  “See,” said Ilia, chucking his head at the screen and not his fingers, which were occupied with the joystick to the video game. “The evil villain has captured the princess. It’s now my duty to save her.”

  The villain dropped the princess up on a high tower, then climbed back down in a blink without moving his arms or legs. Instead of walking down the tower or punching the villain in the nose, the pixilated princess screamed again.

  Rose pressed her fingers to her temples. What the game lacked in high definition and a believable plot, it made up for in stereophonics.

  “Watch this move,” said Ilia. “It’s really complicated and took me weeks to learn.”

  Ilia’s fingers flew over the controls. On the screen, Ilia’s character, who was a beige-faced man with a mustache, spun and jutted out a leg, making the villain step back. Fire spouted out of the villain’s mouth.

  So, all those green and brown dots turned out to be a dragon. How apropos. Or rather cannibalistic, given who the hero was controlled by in real life.

  Triumphant horns blared as the villain went from upright to flat out on the ground in a blink. The dragon stayed down on the ground, a gray plume of defeat coming out of his mouth. Ilia dropped the controls and thrust his hands into the air.

  “I won,” he exclaimed. “Didn’t you see?”

  Rose sat on the farthest end of the couch away from him. True to his word, he hadn’t touched her or tried to make a move. No, instead, he made her sit and watch as he played video games. She had never imagined anything could be any worse than going on a casting call and being objectified.

  She was just proven wrong.

  “So, you see. I’m not a villain. I just saved the princess.”

  Rose knew she should humor him. He was a fire-breathing dragon who was holding her captive in real life. But her tongue had always had a mind of its own.

  “You do realize the princess could’ve simply walked down the stairs to find her own freedom?”

  Ilia stared at Rose as though he didn’t understand what she was saying.

  “I mean, that’s what I would’ve done, especially if I was dressed in nothing but a few skimpy rags. Poor girl must be cold.”

  “She’s wearing a beautiful ball gown.”

  Rose snorted. No woman would dare be caught in that Pepto-Bismol pink concoction. “Why is she even a part of this game? The story clearly has nothing to do with her.”

  “She has to be saved. She’s the hero’s very reason for existing.”

  “No, his reason for existing is to beat the villain. The princess is nothing but an excuse for the dragon and the hero to measure their dicks.”

  “They don’t have dicks in this game.”

  “Why does she have boobs popping out of her gown? They shouldn’t have bothered wasting all those graphics and just made her a round ball that they were fighting over. But I suppose a ball can’t scream, and they needed more sound effects.”

  Ilia stared. His jaw slack. His brows near to his hairline.

  “What? You can’t really expect a woman to like a game where her entire gender is shown as the weaker sex?”

  The look on his face said that was exactly what he thought. Or rather, that he’d never even once thought about it.

  “She’s put in distress, from which she clearly can escape on her own. She’s the hero’s motivation for the quest so he can prove his prowess. I’m only surprised she wasn’t tied up and tossed onto railroad tracks, and the villain didn’t stand by and twirl his mustache.”

  Ilia’s slackened jaw perked up. “What game is that?”

  “Look, I’ve never liked video games. The women depicted are either a prize, a treasure, or a goal. She’s a possession that’s stolen, and the men fight over her. At least she should be given the ability to fight for her own freedom.”

  “You mean so that she can rescue herself?” Ilia asked.

  “Yes. That is what modern women do.”

  “You still think I’m the villain here. You still think you’re in need of rescue.”

  Ilia hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. He looked every bit the little boy whose ball Rose had just deflated.

  “I just want a safe place for me and my sister. A place where I can do honest work and not have to watch my back in fear some man will try to throw me on my back and take something he thinks belongs to him.”

  “I won’t throw you on your back, Rose.” His features were solemn, as though he was a Boy Scout making her a promise. Then in the blink of an eye, the Boy Scout shifted into a man with sinful thoughts on his mind. “Not unless you ask me to.”

  Rose felt hot. The same heat she’d felt when Ilia had backed her against his bedpost. She’d expected him to throw her on the bed and take her. When he didn’t, it had left her breathless. Not the relieved kind.

  “As for a house,” he went on, “you can have any room in this castle.”

  “I thought I was sleeping in your room?” Why did her voice sound so breathless? She didn’t want to sleep in his room.

  A slow grin spread over his features. His eyes did a lazy tilt down from her head, to her chest, and then her lap, where she had her hands folded primly. Men had ogled her since she was a teen, likely before as well. Their stares had always made Rose feel dirty.

  Not this time. Everywhere Ilia’s gaze touched, it left a heat trail. How was he doing that? It must be the dragon inside him.

  “You’re welcome anytime in my room. I’ll eagerly await your arrival every night.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t hold your breath cause you’ll be waiting a long time.”

  “Did you know dragons can breathe underwater? I can hold my breath for a very…” He leaned in close, then closer, all without touching her. “…very long time.”

  There was space for her to get up and run. Enough room to reach out and slap him if he did anything wrong. Only none of this felt wrong. Why didn’t it feel wrong?

  “It’s hot in here,” she said. “I want to go outside.”

  “If you want to go out, I’ll need to mark you. Otherwise, the lions, bears, and wolves will think you’re fair game.”

  She ignored the lions, bears, and wolves comment and focused on the other thing. “Mark me?”

  “I would have to bite you, which would leave a mark. So that the others would know you’re mine, and no one would touch you.”

 
“Bite me?”

  He nodded. “At the base of your neck, so everyone will see.”

  His gaze latched onto Rose’s neck. The spot where her shoulder met her neck column burned. That burn radiated heat throughout her chest, making her nipples hard.

  Ilia cocked his head to the side like he could see the temperature inside her rising. The tingling sensation increased. Rose knew her cheeks, her chest, both had to be red.

  He made no mention of it. He simply glanced at her, his tongue snaking out of his mouth to lick at his lower lip. But he didn’t pounce. He didn’t reach for her.

  The realization that he wouldn’t, that he truly would do nothing unless she asked him to, left Rose with a surge of power running alongside that heat.

  “Will it hurt?” she asked.

  “No. I would never do anything to cause you pain or sorrow.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine… what?”

  He was going to make her say it. “Bite me.”

  She hoped her tone conveyed the opposite meaning of that phrase that had been popularized in the eighties. Ilia, being a connoisseur of that long-ago time period, smirked as though he caught her drift. Instead of taking offense, he threw back his head and laughed.

  When his gaze came back to her, Rose saw the predator behind his gem-colored eyes. She should run. She wasn’t trapped. She could make it to the door.

  Rose held still and waited.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ilia let the joystick slip from his grip. He was no longer interested in holding the plastic controller. Not when he’d just been offered the opportunity to handle a warm, supple woman.

  He'd told her he wouldn't touch her without her permission. That didn't mean he wouldn't look. And look his fill, he did.

  Rose was aroused. Her pink lips were flushed, just like a flower whose bud was ready to burst open. With each of her quick breaths, her breasts rose higher, straining the top of her blouse. Even if he couldn’t see it with his own eyes, he scented that she was aroused.

  She wanted him. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Which was why in the past, dragons often tied up the women brought to serve their needs.

  For a long time, women had been taught to be shameful of their desires. But if they were tied down, then they would have no responsibility in assuaging their needs. The ropes would set them free.

  Except Ilia didn’t have any rope in the game room. He didn’t want to leave Rose while the heat of want was coursing through her blood. Her pupils were dilated. Her lips parted with sweet, shallow breaths escaping.

  She’d breathed the same way when he’d tied her up the first time. Her entire body had gone languid from the pull of the ropes. His groin tightened with the memory.

  There had to be something in this room he could use?

  The chip-tune sounds of the game played on in the silence between Ilia and Rose. The descending bass notes let Ilia know that his character had lost, and the villain had won. For the first time in his gaming life, Ilia understood why the villain desired to kidnap the damsel and fight to the death to keep her.

  This damsel was not going to get away from Ilia. Pretty soon, she would be cheering to have him wrap his arms around her. Hopefully, after his bite, Rose would want more than just his teeth sunk inside her.

  “Give me your hands,” he said.

  Rose’s lashes fluttered. The haze lifted, and her gaze narrowed as Ilia reached down to the floor. He grabbed the controller and pulled until the console slid across the floor to him. Once he had the box in hand, he tugged out the cords and cables.

  The sound of the music cut off.

  The screen went blank.

  “Hands,” he repeated.

  “Why?” she demanded.

  Unlike any of the times she’d spoken to him earlier, there was no bite to her tone. She sounded breathy, as though she was trying to swallow down her desire. But couldn’t.

  “You’re not going to tie me up again?” she said. “Are you?”

  “Yes.” Ilia stretched the length of one of the cables. It was twice the length of his arm. Perfect.

  “I said I’d let you bite me, or whatever.” Rose’s gaze was on the cable.

  “I’m going to bite you.” Ilia let the cable glide through his fingers. He stopped when he found the middle. With his index finger and thumb, he pinched the middle section of the cable and let the two ends fall to the sides. “This is part of the ritual.”

  Rose eyed the length. Her gaze tracked the swinging ends. “You said you wouldn't force me."

  She didn’t scramble off the couch. She didn’t cover her arms over her body to shield herself. She simply watched the sway of the rope.

  “Give me your hands.” Ilia said the words gently, quietly. Not a hint of force in his voice or in his posture.

  Rose’s gaze flicked to his. Only briefly. Slowly, she raised her wrists to him.

  “You’re not my captive,” he said. “I am yours.”

  Ilia wrapped the cable around her torso. His knuckles skated just under her breast. Rose’s lids fluttered, but she did not close her eyes. Her gaze stayed focused on his hands.

  Just under her breasts, he made a loop. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the binds, increasing the tension. A small gasp escaped her lips.

  "You can get away from me anytime, Rose. I haven't kidnapped you. I do have every intention of keeping you.”

  Ilia wrapped the cable just above her breast bone. He made another loop, folding the cable over and under. The end result looked like a flowering rose.

  Her arms were bound to her body, leaving her neck and collarbone exposed for Ilia’s mark. The dragon inside him clawed at his belly, ripping it to shreds to be let out. To be let at her. But Ilia wasn’t done with his conversation.

  “I want to go on an adventure together with you. We must first pass this level."

  "Because when you mark me, it'll give me special powers?”

  He grinned. "Exactly. Everyone in our world will know you're protected and that they'll have me to contend with if they dare mess with you."

  Ilia tugged the rope tight. The tightness was for her protection. His dragon wanted her. Any wrong move, and it would pounce. He needed complete control.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  Rose opened her mouth. Her lips moved. But no sound came out.

  Ilia doubted he would’ve heard her if she made a peep. He likely wouldn’t have heard her scream either. The desire rushing through him was too loud.

  He tilted her head and struck her neck. The taste of the salty sweetness of her pulled him under. He was marking her as his own, but when her flesh met his lips, it was clear who had claimed whom.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It had to be the food. That’s what was making her act so wanton. Like a glutton.

  Rose had never been full a day in her life. And now that her belly was full of all the delicious, exotic food, her loins had decided they wanted in on the action.

  Well, screw that.

  She might have opened her mouth, but the hell if she was opening her legs. Been there. Done that. Didn’t want the t-shirt to remember.

  What she did remember was that sex had been a messy, awkward, painful affair. She’d only done it once. Everyone said the first time often hurt. But there was the bump your knee ouchie that lasted for a few seconds, and then there was the stub your pinky toe tearing pain that radiated through your entire body and lasted for hours -maybe all day.

  Sex with Curt Melber had been a mix of the two. He’d bumped into her untried vagina and continually stubbed her sensitive flesh. Luckily, it had only lasted a few seconds. Which had been long enough.

  After that brief encounter, Curt spent the next year telling every male casting director, photographer, and model that he’d hit that. From that moment on, Rose had to doubly watch her back—and her front—with men thinking they could tap that ass. Even though they all thought they could tap her ass before her ill-fated virginity loss. With her
ass normally being on display on magazine spreads and catwalks, most people thought they had a right to a piece of it.

  The second Rose felt Ilia’s breath on her neck, her knees unknotted. A small piece of her decided it wanted to be tapped. That piece grew larger and larger, making her wonder if she’d taken a hit of something.

  Her hands were bound tight, leaving no room to reach out and push him away. Not that she had a single inclination to do so. Her fingers trembled. Not with fear. With the need to…need for…?

  She wasn’t sure what she needed. She only knew that she did. She needed.

  It must be a drug.

  Most reptiles had venom in their fangs. He was a dragon. That had to be what was happening. Except? Had he broken the skin?

  He must have. It was the only explanation. It was the only reason she wanted to pull him close. But she couldn’t. Her hands were bound.

  Rose gasped as she felt his teeth on her neck. The twin sharp pinpoints raised over her skin. The bliss of it knocked her knees open wider. The need grew stronger.

  What was this heat she was feeling?

  What was this ache?

  It couldn’t be desire? Ilia was a man. With a penis. If she kept acting like this, if her knees kept parting, he was going to want to put that penis inside of her. Then there would be more pain.

  Except, she wasn’t feeling a single twinge of discomfort. Instead, she wanted—no, she needed more.

  Her fingers straightened, needing to reach out and touch Ilia’s flesh. To push him away? To bring him closer? She still wasn’t sure?

  No matter what she wanted, the ropes prevented her movement. She could get up and run. However, the ropes prevented that too.

  Not physically. Her legs were in working order, as proven by her ever more wantonly opening knees. Just like when she’d hung from the ropes in the cave, Rose didn’t want to move. She wanted nothing more than to allow the ropes to take all of her weight, all of her worries, all of her cares.

  Ilia wasn’t touching her, save for the sharp points of his teeth. His body hovered over her form as his teeth sank downward.