Crouching Tigress Horny Dragon (Fire Mates #3) (3 page)

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Authors: Lexxie Couper

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Crouching Tigress Horny Dragon (Fire Mates #3)
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It had unsettled her in the bar, but she couldn’t stop wanting to touch him. It had been unfathomable, but undeniable. To say she was drawn to him, aroused by him, sexually attracted to him, was the understatement of the millennia. Her unexpected and thoroughly unnerving reaction to him had messed with her plans. And her head.

She hadn’t intended to let him kiss her.

She sure as shit hadn’t planned to let it go
beyond
a kiss in the alley. A kiss had been all that was needed to nudge the Australian to where she’d needed him to be.

But when their lips had touched, when his tongue had stroked over hers, when his thumb had brushed her nipple, her plans had somehow gone to hell.

Hot, burning hell.

Like her body was on fire.

On fire and lusting for more.

So much more.

Dragging him away from the alley hadn’t changed that. Only intensified it.

Tearing her gaze from his, she knotted her torn shirt between her breasts and scanned the dark park around them, her heart racing. If she kept looking at him, she’d fling herself into his arms and beg him to fuck her right there and then.

That was something she couldn’t do. God, had Julian witnessed her debauchery? What would he think? Especially seeing as she’d also fled the alley without her—

“Answers.”

The Australian’s voice jerked her away from the worrying thought and shattered her flustered calm. She frowned at the shadows around them, wondering if Julian was out there. Better to wonder
that
than to look at the Australian beside her.

But he’s so damn nice to look at…

“I want answers.” He moved to stand directly in front of her, his hands wrapping her upper arms. “Why did you want to get me into that alley so badly?”

Deanne shook her head. “I just…” She stopped, swallowing. The need to wrap her legs around his hips and impale herself on his cock burned through her, so powerful she could barely think.

What the fuck was going on? Had he drugged her somehow? Was it some kind of fucked-up dragon magic? She’d never heard of this kind of reaction to a dragon. And if he had drugged her or enchanted her, how did she—

“Tell me,” he growled, his fingers hard on her arms. “You were
desperate
to get me out there. Did you know that
Extraho Venator
was there, waiting?”

At the title, an icy finger of steel slipped up Deanne’s spine. It didn’t abate the fever ravishing her, but it cleared her head…a little. “The dude with the crossbow? Of course not,” she snarled, trying to shake his grip from her arms. She failed. He didn’t let her go. Nor did he stop staring into her eyes.

She wished to hell he would. It was hard to fight whatever he’d done to her while he was studying her with such open lust.

Crap, she needed to get away from him. Just for a few moments. Just to clear her head and regain her focus. Who knew where Julian was right now? Hopefully nowhere near here. Maybe he was dealing with the dick with the faulty crossbow.

Squirming in the Australian’s grip, she tried to step away from him. “I need…”

His fingers tightened harder around her upper arms. “Why did you lure me out into the alley? I don’t give a rat’s arse if you
are
my Fire Mate, I want to know what’s going on!”

Deanne frowned. Her belly fluttered. The need to tangle her fingers in his shaggy russet-brown hair and take possession of his mouth with hers, to press her body to his and burn up in their pleasure, intensified. “Fire Mate?” she said. Crap, why did she sound so panty and breathy? “I don’t know…”

She stopped, licking her dry lips as her stare moved to his mouth. She needed to feel his tongue sliding over hers again. Now. She needed…

She destroyed the minute distance between them and captured his mouth with hers.

A groan rumbled in his chest, one not at all human.

Hot ribbons of desire and rapture threaded through Deanne, combining with her delight. She had no idea what he was doing to her, but if she could keep her head long enough while it was happening, maybe she could get him to shift and then she could…

His fingers dug into her arms with brutal strength a heartbeat before he tore his lips from hers. “Enough,” he snarled, glaring down at her. Tall. He was so tall. And so, so fucking hot.

Her pussy contracted, squeezing a cock that wasn’t there. She stepped toward him again, aching for his touch.

Fury flared in his eyes, warring with the raw hunger she saw in their light depths. “No more kissing,” he said, holding her at arm’s length. “No fucking, no mating, no
anything
until you tell me what’s going on. We were just attacked by an
Extraho Venator
. You’re a dragon. Behave like one for a fucking second and think about that.”

Deanne blinked. Another chilly finger traced up her spine. “Dragon?” She shook her head, staring at him. In her chest, her heart thumped like a freaking cannon. “I’m not a dragon. I’m a Rider, that’s all.”

Disbelief guttered the sexual hunger in his eyes. For a split second. “A Rider? A
dragon groupie
?” His jaw clenched as he raked his gaze over her from top to bottom. As before, a pleasurable heat consumed her, pooling between her thighs and stealing her ability to breathe.

How was he doing this to her? And how did she stop him without—

“Bullshit.”

His blunt voice snatched a gasp from her lips.

“For starters,” he went on, his stare once again holding hers, “the so-called
Riders
rarely survive a sexual encounter with a dragon long enough to give themselves a title. And secondly, no human, no matter how into dragons she might be, smells like you.”

“It’s true.” Deanne jutted out her chin as she struggled to fight the hunger overwhelming her. She wasn’t scared of him. She’d never been scared of a dragon shifter. It was one of the few things Julian praised her for. And one of the reasons she was so revered.

Oh, but you’ve never come face to face with a dragon like this one, have you, Roe?

His nostrils flared. His eyes narrowed. He drew closer to her, his head lowering to an inch from her face. “Bull. Shit.”

“I could tell what you were when I first walked into the bar.” She barely resisted the overwhelming urge—no, the craving—to close the small distance between their faces and capture his mouth with hers. “Why else do you think I walked over to you? Because I wanted to have a conversation? Because I wanted to hear you say
g’day
and
crikey
?” She barked out a laugh, fighting to stay motionless. “No. I wanted to be fucked by a dragon.”

His eyes flickered, an unreadable silver light that sent liquid tension straight to the junction of her thighs. “And you just
happen
to exude the same pheromones as a female dragon? What? Did you buy it by the bottle on eBay?”

His accent—very Australian, very unsettling—grew thicker with each sarcastic word. As did the undeniably rigid length of his cock pressing against her belly. She stared up at him, her heart thumping fast in her throat. Pheromones? What the hell was he talking about?

“You’re mistaken,” she insisted, shaking her head. God, why did her voice sound so breathless? She was never breathless. Never unsettled. She’d been interacting with dragons her whole adult life. Longer. Since she was a young teenager. Since her father had introduced her to the world of dragon shifters. She knew everything there was to know, everything that had to be done.

And yet, the pheromones? Why didn’t she know about the pheromones? Why hadn’t Julian told her about them? And what the hell was a Fire Mate? It sounded important. He’d called her that. Surely she should know what a Fire Mate was. Surely her father should have mentioned it. Why didn’t she know about Fire Mates?

Because you’ve never done
this
before. For all your interaction with dragon shifters, you’ve never been devoured by lust before. You’ve never lost yourself to the moment. Whatever he’s done to you, it’s made you—

“Now tell me again.” The Australian’s voice growled over her senses, sending a ripple of wicked excitement through her. Damn it, why did just the
sound
of his voice push her close to orgasmic rapture? “Why did you want me out in that alley so badly? Why are you denying you’re a dragon?” He drew closer to her still. “And while we’re at it, what is your name?”

Deanne forced herself to remain motionless. “I’m
not
a dragon. I’m a Rider. You’re not my first. My name is none of your bus—”

His mouth closed over hers before she could finish, the kiss brutal and savage. Before she could stop herself, or contemplate what she was doing, she poured herself into the kiss, her tongue mating with his. This wasn’t the plan, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t
want
to stop.

The ends justified the means; that had always been her way. The ends justified the means.

Oh, but you’ve never experienced “means” like this before, Roe, have you?

The Australian’s hands scraped up her rib cage, covered her breasts. She whimpered, pressing her hips to his. She was on fire again. Burning up in her desire. Her need for him. To be filled by him.

She reached for his fly, her pulse racing at the feel of his trapped, engorged cock straining against the denim. That was good. It would spring free the second she released it. She could impale herself on its hard, thick length immediately.

She could—

His lips tore from hers. There one second—gone the next. As were his hands from her body.

Deanne snapped open her eyes, her breath ragged.

He stood but a few feet away, the edges of his mouth twitching. “Now tell me what your name is. Or shall I spend the rest of eternity calling you Fire Mate?”

Fire Mate.

The two words seemed to reach into Deanne’s core like a tight fist. Her pulse accelerated until it was a painful hammering in her throat, her nipples grew hard and painful. A heat more intense than the sun’s rays caressed her flesh, her limbs. Laved at her sex, her clit.

She gasped, her eyes wide, her breath caught.

What the fuck was going on? None of this made any sense.

“What
is
a Fire Mate?” she asked. The faintest stirrings of fear licked at her. Tainted the concentrated lust heating her blood.

The Australian’s stare narrowed. “How can you not know?”

Deanne licked at her lips. They were dry. And craving the touch of his. “I told you,” she snapped back, although even to her ears it sounded like a whispered plea. “I’m not a dragon shifter. I’m a groupie. I get off on sex with your kind. I hunt your kind to—”

“Hunt? Fuck, I forgot…” The man’s snarl made her flinch. He stepped away from her, scanning the dark park around them.

He suddenly looked dangerous. Very dangerous. Menacing strength seemed to claim his tall, lean body, and a low growl—unlike any she’d heard a dragon shifter make before—rumbled in his chest. It should have made her worried. On edge. Instead, the whole package made her aroused.

Made her want to throw him to the ground, strip his clothes from his body, and impale herself on his cock.

“The
Extraho Venator
may have tracked us,” he said, turning back to her. “It’s not safe for us here with the hunter likely on our tail, and I’m not in the mood to shift to incinerate him.”

Deanne’s heart slammed into her throat. Shift.

Oh boy, Roe, that’s exactly what you want him to do. Of course, the timing completely sucks now.

“We need to get out of here,” he said. “Now.”

“Or we could go back to the alley,” she suggested, head roaring, pulse pounding. “My bike is there. We could go back together, and I could maybe take you to wherever it is you go to stretch your wings.”

Silver-gray eyes turned to her. His nostrils flared. “
What
is your name?”

The tone of his voice sent a wicked thrill into the pit of her belly. She’d never met a dragon like him. He was…intoxicating. Swallowing the sudden lump of confusion in her throat, she lifted her chin and met his unwavering stare. “Tigress.”

He burst out laughing.

Deanne gaped at him. Laughing? He was laughing? At her? Right now? How did a man go instantly from being almost petrifying in his menacing intensity to downright sexy in his boyish mirth?

“Of course your name’s Tigress.” He grinned, shaking his head. “The ink should have given it away.”

Deanne’s hand flew to the tiger tattoo above her hipbone. “Do you have a problem with my name?”

“I do if you expect me to call you that from now on.” He chuckled. “Especially when we’re having sex. A dragon should not yell out
Tigress
while fucking another like rabbits. One too many animals in the mix, I’m afraid.”

A fresh ribbon of lust unfurled through Deanne at his words. She pressed her thighs together, willed the craven want away and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Who says we’re going to have sex? Maybe the way you’re behaving is too weird for me to actually
want
sex with you anymore. And what’s wrong with calling out Tigress?”

He laughed again. “We’re Fire Mates. We’re going to spend the next two or three centuries having sex. As far as I know, Fire Mates rarely go a day without fucking.”

That hot ribbon of unsettling desire threaded through Deanne’s agitation again. An invisible lick of heat stroked over her clit. Having sex with him every day? Fuck, what would it be like to have sex with him every day? Kissing him had almost undone her. What would it be like to—

Roe. Get your head together. That’s not the game plan.

She narrowed her eyes into a glare.
None
of this was the game plan. The amazing kiss, the surreal effect he was having on her body, the way he seemed to be messing with her head, the dragon hunter in the alley…this bizarre conversation… “Only two or three centuries,
draco?
” She emphasized the term. “You’re not into commitment, I see.”

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “
You
titled me
draco
, honey, not me. My name’s actually Ryan. And four or five centuries is the average lifespan of a dragon shifter, give or take a few decades, even ones denying what they are for some reason. Less if they’ve got an
Extraho Venator
sniffing out their scent. Which we do, so can we go now?” The grin grew wider. Mischievous. Sexy. “
Tigress
?”

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