My Dragon Lover

by Alisa Woods

  “No, we definitely can be killed.” I give her a small smile. I can already feel my shoulder knitting itself together under the constant pressure she’s putting on the towel. “But you have to really fuck us up to accomplish it. Or cut off our heads. Or simply wait long enough. Unmated dragons will wither away after a couple hundred years. We can die of a broken heart, as it were.”

  She scowls and looks away from my close and probably too-intense gaze. “What the hell is this mated business? Grace said she was a mated dragon now, and I just…” She purses her lips. “It’s still too crazy to believe.”

  “Did you believe the bloodbath in the alley?” I tease.

  She growls and presses harder on my towel.

  I pretend to wince, even though it’s mostly healed now.

  “Okay, fine. The magic is real. Really messed up, if you ask me.” Then she stops talking and seems to consider her words for a moment. “Thank you.” She meets my gaze. “You’ve been really good to me. And you saved my life. I just…” She’s opening her heart to me, and that’s more terrifying to me than a dozen Vardigah coming at me with swords.

  “Now you owe me a gratitude fuck, right?” I joke. It’s forced. My heart spasms a little, and it’s not from the blood loss.

  “Well, not anymore.” She scowls. The hurt on her face stabs me right through that wobbly heart I’ve suddenly got.

  “Good.” I peel her hand off my shoulder and use the towel to wipe away the blood. There’s a bright pink scar running from the meat of my shoulder down nearly to my elbow. “See? Good as new.” It’ll still ache for another hour, then it actually will be as if I were never injured. Eventually, even the scar will fade.

  She marvels at it, leaning away from me. “How is that possible?”

  I toss the towel in the sink. “Perks of being a dragon.” Since the hand on my injured side isn’t useless anymore, I put it to work—unbuttoning Jayda’s suit jacket.

  Her eyes go wide… but she’s not stopping me.

  “I don’t need your gratitude,” I say, sliding the jacket off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “But dragons are horny as fuck.” I start on her blouse and lean in closer, letting the nearness of my body and my growing hard-on speak for themselves. “Especially after a fight,” I whisper against her neck. “Or a shift. Or being near incredibly sexy women with brains that give me hard-ons for days.”

  She sucks in a breath as I open her blouse and let it fall off her shoulders, following the jacket to the floor. Her breasts are high and full, and my cock stiffens the rest of the way, ready for her. I drop an open-mouthed kiss on her neck, tasting and filling up on the exquisite smell of her, while I slip a finger under her bra strap and slide it off her shoulder.

  “Ree.” The need in her voice just amps up mine. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “No.” I pull back and lick my lips, tasting her on them. “I need your help with something.” I take her hands in mine and turn, so I’m pulling her as I step backward toward my walk-in shower.

  Her eyelids flutter. “What’s that?”

  I lift one of her hands and lace my fingers with it, urging her into the shower with me. There’s no door—it’s one of those open rainfall types activated by a touchless sensor on the wall. I wave my hand to start it up. The water falls in a square column behind me. I bring her to the edge of it with me and grab the soap off the tiny inset shelf in the rock wall.

  I hand it to her. “Wash me.” Everything in me tightens in anticipation of her hands all over me.

  Her lips part and her eyes dilate. I step enough into the stream that it slides a small cascade down my face and over my shoulders, washing away some of the blood and gore. She steps closer, right up against me, then reaches behind me to get the bar of soap wet. With a look that has me aching, she lathers up the soap in front of my face, sets the bar aside, and starts running those dark, beautiful hands all over my body.

  Fuck. Me.

  I hold absolutely still. My cock is a rod that she brushes with her skirt, which is slowly getting soaked while her hands soap up every inch of my chest. She gets more soap and covers my belly, methodically getting every dip and curve of muscle, meticulously moving on to my thighs and down to my calves, kneeling before me, her springy curls getting wet from the spray. She’s assiduously avoiding my aching cock. Then she looks up from where she’s crouched, giving me a saucy look.

  “I think you missed a spot,” I say through gritted teeth.

  She smirks then slowly runs her hands up the inside of my legs. When she reaches my balls, I can’t help the intake of breath, but she lavishes a hell of a lot of time on them, ignoring my cock trapped between us now. Her soaked-through bra clings to her skin, giving me an early peek at the glory of her nipples, dark and dusky, underneath.

  “Did I miss something?” Her smile is fully at my expense.

  “Are you quite done?” Even I can hear the strain in my voice.

  “Not quite.” Then she grabs my cock and strokes it hard.

  “Fuck!” escapes me before I can stop it. I’m done messing around. I grab her around the waist and pull her into the downpour. The soap is gone in an instant, and we’re both blinded by the spray. By feel alone, I reach behind her and unhook her bra, casting that aside under the shower. Then I bring those gorgeous breasts against my chest as I reach behind to unzip her skirt and send that to the floor. Her panties are all that’s left, but I’m saving those. I turn her, my cock now rubbing against her rear as I cup her breasts from behind, finding those luscious nipples, already hard before my fingers twist them. She gasps, and the full-body-press of hers against mine is driving me mad. I wrap one arm around her waist, so I’ve got her securely, and half-carry, half-walk her to the edge of the shower. We’re sopping wet, but now we can see. The spray is still warm on my back and trickling over her body. I slide down her panties, then find her hands and place them on the wall. She has to lean slightly forward to manage it, which leaves her in the perfect position for me. I reach for the small, hidden drawer in the wall that holds the condoms and bring one out.

  She twists to see what I’m doing.

  I rip the package with my teeth and sheath myself with her watching. “Now’s the time to tell me if you don’t want my cock.”

  The look on her face says anything but. “And if I don’t tell you?”

  I slide behind her again, my hand braced against the wall by hers, my cock in position. I glide my hand across her hip, enjoying the roundness of her bottom before I take her. “You’re going to find out just how horny a dragon can be.” I thrust hard, taking her all the way, burying myself to the hilt. “Fuck,” I gasp. She’s so tight.

  “Oh, God.” She’s clawing at the wall. “Ree.”

  “Yes?” I pull out and thrust in again. I’m just getting acquainted. The feel of her clenching me. The slickness of her skin. The incredible heat of her sex.

  Her one hand leaves the wall and reaches back, grasping at my leg, urging me on.

  I grab hold of both her hips and thrust hard.

  “Shit!” she cries out, bracing with both hands against the wall again.

  “You better hold onto that wall,” I warn her. Because this holding back will not work for me. I pull out almost all the way and thrust in again, garnering a whimper from her. I do it harder, and that fucking sexy noise is louder. Then I pound, thrust after thrust into the hotness of her sex. The aching tension deep in my balls coils tighter. “Fuck. Yes.” I’m gasping with how good she feels, how right, how sweet each thrust is, piling one on top of another and rocketing me up.

  “Ree. Oh, my God, Ree!” She’s getting there fast, too.

  I lean in, pushing her closer to the wall, bracing my hand against it and changing my angle, so I’m thrusting more up and taking us both higher.

  “Oh, fuck, please, please,” she’s begging me. And while I’d love to ride out her orgasm and give her another, I’m almost there already. I reach my hand around to that hot little nub she
has, all the while thrusting like a madman, lifting her up on her toes with the force of it. I work her sweet spot as I pick up the pace, and she cries out, shaking and shivering and clenching all around my cock. That tips me right over, and suddenly, I’m shooting inside her. I keep thrusting through it, but I’m blind with pleasure. It’s blowing my mind, whiting everything out, so intense, I can barely breathe. I’m wildly thrusting through the rest of it, panting and drawing it out, not wanting it to end, but of course it does. Slowly. With a spreading buzz through my entire body. I can barely tell where mine ends and hers begins, we’re so welded together, up against the rock wall of my shower, breathing heavily through our still-tingling orgasms. It lingers like I’ve seldom felt before, the aftershocks still coming, making me twitch inside her. She’s doing the same, softly swearing and shuddering against me.

  I finally stop the slow wind-down of thrusting and simply hold her. “Holy fuck, Jayda,” I whisper against her shoulder. “Do you have any idea… how good that was…” My mind is a scramble. I legit feel like I can’t move, or I might shatter.

  “Is this the magic?” she asks, her voice half laugh, half wonder. “I can’t feel my toes.”

  I laugh lightly. I can’t remember the last time I did that. I hold her tighter against me, my cock still buried deep inside her. “Oh, God, the things I want to do to you.”

  “I thought you just did them.” It’s like she doesn’t think there’s more.

  There’s so much more. “Baby, I’m just getting started.” And like that, I can feel my cock stiffening again. I move slightly, making a promise of more to come, and the way she moans against the wall feels like I’ve found a secret nirvana.

  I knew it would be good with her.

  I had no fucking clue.

  I’m so completely, utterly lost.

  Seven

  Jayda

  Ree is kissing me everywhere—everywhere—but on my mouth.

  I’ve never had so much sex in a single day. If the teleportation and dragon-shifting and miraculous healing hadn’t convinced me that magic truly was real, the unearthly sexual stamina would have. I’ve been with all kinds of men—Ree’s cock is not of this world. Not in size, not in girth, not in the time to be fuck-ready after orgasm. He’s a certifiable sex miracle.

  That doesn’t even count his lovemaking skills, which are also unreal.

  I called a halt to it earlier in the evening. I’m only human. I had to shower, eat, check my fucking email… but now that the office has stopped barraging me with follow-ups to the morning meeting, Ree’s back, feasting on me. I’m sitting at the kitchen table, laptop finally closed, and he’s come up behind me to entice me back into his sexual wonderland. He’s gathered up my hair in a bunch so he can move my head just where he wants me. Right now, that’s tilted to the side so he can consume my neck, one nipping kiss after another, down to my shoulder. He slides my blouse and bra strap down, slipping his hand down to free my breast. He manhandles that while running his tongue across my collarbone, then back up along my jawbone, ending at my ear, which he bites in a way that sends sparks between my legs. Then he switches sides, consuming every inch of my skin, whatever he can reach from the back of the chair, without me moving a muscle. He wants me to just allow it. Relax and let him squeeze my breasts, massage my scalp, feast upon the back of my neck, my cheeks, even my eyelids after he’s brushed them closed.

  I’ve never felt so desired by a man.

  It’s a thing completely separate from the fucking. And Oh Lordy do we fuck. That heavenly cock and my abused lady parts have been in so much intimate contact, I thought for sure I’d be crazy sore by now. But then Ree would go down on me and lavish his attention there. Something about dragon saliva having healing properties. I don’t know about that, but his tongue brings me a little closer to heaven. Then somehow, I’m able to take that enormous cock once more. I’m sure that’s on the menu soon, after he consumes my upper body as an hors d’oeuvre, but right now, Ree’s attentions are all about worshipping my shoulders and neck, and when I make the slightest attempt to reach for him, he holds my wrists far apart until I promise not to touch.

  But I can still talk. “You’re pretty hot for two hundred and ten.”

  I feel the huff of his laugh against my skin.

  “How many women have you had in all those years?”

  He pauses for just a half-second, then he straightens up and turns my chair around to face him. My blouse and bra are around my waist, baring my breasts.

  “None half as amazing as you.” He kneels between my legs, spreading them wide so he can lean in and tease my tight nipples with his tongue.

  I play with his hair, which must not violate the “no touch” rule because he allows it. “You don’t have to flatter me, Ree. I’m already your sex toy.”

  He freezes again, then he bites me, so tender, yet it’s electric. He peers up as he kisses over the bite marks. “You’re no toy. And I don’t flatter.”

  I believe him about that. I’ve never met someone as straight as Ree has been with me, even from the first moment. I trail my fingers across his cheek, just a gentle caress, but he pulls away from it. Then he manhandles my breast again, lifting the nipple so he can flick at it with his tongue. I let my fingers retreat to threading through his hair again. That seems safe.

  “So, you’ve never mated, then.”

  He freezes. My heart stutters. Did I just offend him? He looks up, still holding my breast, peering into my eyes. “No.” I don’t even understand this mating business, but if Theo and Grace are already hooked up, I don’t understand why Ree wouldn’t be. Then he stands suddenly and moves behind my chair again. I’m afraid I’ve said something awful without realizing it, but he returns a moment later… with a condom in his hand. He takes my hand and tugs me up from the chair. Then he pulls me against him, my upper half naked against his t-shirt, his erection strong against my belly. He’s in casual track pants, and I’m only wearing yoga pants, so I can feel every bit of his length.

  “I need you,” he says roughly. “Right now.” He walks me two steps back, up against the kitchen table. He slides his hands down my backside, baring my bottom, then hoists me up on the surface. Then he quickly pulls down his own pants, rolls on the condom, and before I can say anything, he’s thrusting fast inside me.

  “Oh,” is all I get out before he gets serious about fucking. His hands hard on my bottom, holding me in place, him thrusting hard into me, grunting as he does. Every time we do this, I can’t believe how huge he is—like each time, my body is all holy shit you’re getting laid, and it just quivers and tries to take in all his glory. I nearly always come right away, as if it’s a shock orgasm. Sweet mercy, we are getting fucked, hallelujah. This time is no different. Ree is pounding into me, grunting and groaning and bottoming out, his fingers digging deep into my ass as my heels bang on his legs. My arms wrap around his neck, holding on for dear life. The orgasm starts deep inside, where his cock strokes me hard, and trembles like an earthquake, building then suddenly letting loose. I’m cursing and shaking and arching into his glorious body. I take a moment to come back from that. Ree’s breathing hard, but he’s barely worked up. I know what that means—we’re visiting at least two more positions before he’ll let himself come.

  Sure enough, he pulls out and turns me over. I’m now bent in half, sprawled across the table, and he takes me immediately from behind, thrusting so hard, we’re jittering the table on the smooth tiles of the kitchen and banging the wall. God, he’s big—and he fills me so deep in this position. He loves it, too. I can tell by the grunts with each thrust, the way he digs his fingers into my backside, and how he runs his hand along my back as he fucks me, like I’m a beautiful sculpture he can’t help touching while he rams his cock deep inside. This is my least favorite position, mostly because it was my ex’s favorite—he liked to fuck me hard without having to look me in the face. I don’t feel guilty thinking about my ex while Ree’s cock is deep inside me—but it worries me
. I’ve learned to listen hard to that gut instinct. It tried to tell me for months before the Massive Flameout that something was wrong wrong wrong. But I didn’t listen. I thought I had it all, and I wanted to keep it too badly to let any little whisperings tell me something wasn’t right. So I shut it out and let the man I loved fuck me like he didn’t, and that should have been my warning signal all long. But Ree’s not like Jeremiah. They’re both white and male, but in every other way, they’re polar opposites.

  Yet my gut is saying something.

  Ree’s thrusting suddenly stops, and he’s pulling me up from the table. His eyes are a little wide.

  “Baby, you okay?” The words come out before I can think about them.

  “Where were you?” he asks. It’s a little panicked. Which I don’t understand, but it makes my heart flutter, and not in a good way.

  “I was on the table. Being fucked by you.”

  He swallows. “You were somewhere else.”

  I put a hand to his cheek and try to kiss him, but he moves his head and pulls back. It hurts, but I don’t really understand what’s happened. It hurts more when I realize: he’s never kissed me. In all our lovemaking, all our rough-and-hard sex up against the rock wall in the bathroom or in his bed or bent over his couch, there was no actual kissing. The sweet and tender times, he brushed his lips across my cheeks, my nose, everywhere but my lips.

  That’s a fucking red flag if I’ve ever seen one.

  Okay, gut, I’m listening now.

  Ree rolls off the condom, pulls his pants back up, and turns away. He drops it in the trash can hidden under the counter, then braces his hand against it, still not looking at me. I straighten up my clothes as well because it sure seems like we need to do less fucking and more talking. Or maybe I should just retreat to my room and let the man be. He doesn’t owe me anything. Whatever we had going here was fun—no, it was fucking hot—while we had it. But he’s saved my life. And my job. He’s my “protection detail,” and that’s his job, and he does it damn well. He doesn’t owe me anything more. And I’m not willing to be in any relationship with a man I can’t trust—there’s no compromise on that for me. Not anymore. I’ll trust Ree with my life, but that doesn’t mean I have to trust him with my heart.