Crouching Tigress Horny Dragon (Fire Mates #3) (4 page)

Deanne’s belly knotted. The longer she stayed with him, the more dangerous it became. Especially after the unexpected attack in the alley. Ryan was correct; the dragon hunter wouldn’t stop. Not now that he’d found his target. Not after such a close call. Unless Julian had dealt with him, the hunter wouldn’t let up his pursuit, and Ryan was likely to find himself impaled with a crossbow bolt or two.

Which meant Deanne had to stay with him.

And have sex with him. Lots of—

She killed the disturbingly enticing thought before it could finish forming. It didn’t stop the pressure in her sex throbbing harder though. Nor the twisting need in her belly. Damn it, this was going to get complicated. Really complicated.

Grounding her teeth, she fixed Ryan with a level look. “Your place or mine?”

He chuckled. “That’s my little Tigress.”

With a wink, he turned and began running through the shadows, heading deeper into the park.

Deanne swiveled at the waist, scanning the area around her. If the
Extraho Venator
was about, she couldn’t feel him watching. That didn’t mean he
wasn’t
lurking in the dark, but she doubted it. By the time he’d made it back to the street from his hasty fire-escape scale, she and Ryan would have been long gone. Most hunters knew how to track a dragon however, and she didn’t think it would be long before this one found Ryan again.

Unless he’s incompetent? He did shoot at Ryan while he was still in human form, after all
.

Biting back a low growl of contempt, Deanne ran after Ryan. She couldn’t let him out of her sight now. She’d have to change all her plans, but she
couldn’t
let him out of her sight. Hopefully her father had dealt with the hunter and the threat was over and she could finish what she’d set out to do weeks—

Her foot collided with something hard and she stumbled to a halt, peering at the dark ground. Or rather, what was
on
the ground—clothes. Tossed aside clothes. Jeans. Boots. Socks. A T-shirt.

Clothes she recognized. Ryan’s clothes.

Her heart punched its way into her throat. Crap. He’d shifted. Or was about to. And she’d lost sight of him.

Crap, shit, fuck.

She squinted into the blackness around her, searching for a naked Australian.

Nothing. They were in the middle of a large clearing, with what looked like a concrete sidewalk or bicycle track ringing the perimeter before the trees started again. Thin wispy clouds stretched across the black sky, the pale new moon casting little light on her surroundings.

Deanne bunched her fists. “Damn it.”

Wherever Ryan was, she couldn’t see him.

A cold ribbon of unease threaded through her frustration. And a thick rope of emptiness.

Emptiness? What is there to feel empty about? Failure?

The answer didn’t fit. She turned on the spot, searching for him.

Her so-called “Fire Mate”.

What exactly
was
a Fire Mate? And why did Ryan keep insisting she was his?

And more to the point, why did he insist she was a dragon?

Perhaps you’ve spent so long studying dragon shifters you’ve taken on some of their traits. You’ve been tracking Ryan ever since he arrived in America, after all. Maybe he’s caught your scent more than once and confused it with—

The air above her displaced with a violent gush of wind. It slammed into her, sending her backward in a tangle of feet. She fell on her ass, the ground cold on her bare legs, her hair whipping about her face as another gust of air flowed over her.

And then a massive form the color of fresh blood appeared in front of her. A massive form in the shape of a dragon, its wings beating the air with slow swipes as it landed on all fours a few yards away, its long, wickedly-sharp talons digging into the soft grass.

Deanne’s breath caught in her throat, her attention ensnared by the creature before her.

Oh my God, he’s beautiful.

The thought had just enough time to whisper through her stunned mind as a million pinpricks of molten fire covered her flesh, and then a kaleidoscope of iridescent light shimmered over the dragon’s form and Ryan stood there, gloriously naked.

So beautiful…

“My hotel is over a mile that way,” he said, waving an arm to his right as he strode toward her, his exquisitely sculpted muscles coiling and flexing with each step. His very impressive shaft, she couldn’t help but notice, was semi-rigid between his thighs. “I couldn’t detect that many people on the streets between here and there, but that doesn’t surprise me, given the time of—”

The word
night
didn’t leave his lips. It had no hope. Not when Deanne slammed into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, her lips crushing his.

The sight of Ryan in his dragon form had reignited the starving, ravenous need for him. The sight of his naked human form—so beautiful, so sensual, so sexy—had been the propellant that moved her forward.

She kissed him, unable to stop. It was dangerous and stupid and insane, but she had to kiss him. She had to taste his saliva on her tongue, her lips. She had to feel him groan into her mouth as she wrought pleasure on his soul. The fire sweeping through her, the burning desire consuming her, demanded it. If she didn’t kiss him, if she didn’t fuck him, she would surely incinerate in a need more powerful, fiercer than any she had known or experienced. It was beyond her; it frightened her. She could no more fathom it than she could deny it.

The only thing that mattered was being pleasured by Ryan and pleasuring him in return. Bringing him to climax, over and over. Sucking his seed from his cock with her mouth. Riding his face until his tongue made her come. Fucking him. Being claimed by him.

Mating with him. As all Fire Mates do.

The nonsensical concept sent shards of liquid tension into her pussy. She raked at his bare chest, her nails dragging over his puckered nipples. He moaned, his hands finding her clothes and tearing at them. She helped him. Shucking out of her skirt even as she continued to worship his mouth. She kicked the garment away, the cool night air flowing over her feverish flesh, between her thighs, over her moisture-slicked folds.

Ryan’s fingers sank into her slit, wriggling deep inside her. She bucked into his penetrations, her whimpers of capitulation vibrating in her chest. His lips left her mouth, his teeth nipping a path down her throat, along her collarbone, her shoulder. He scissored his fingers within her inner walls, finding her G-spot with masterful talent every time.

“Oh, oh,” she panted at the dark night sky, her fingers threading through his hair. “Oh yes. Yes.”

She rode his hand, an orgasm crashing through her with startling force. So fast, so powerful.

“That’s it, Tigress.” Ryan’s breath was hot on her neck, in her ear. “Lose yourself to the pleasure.”

She cried out, the climax shuddering through her with growing pressure. She clung to him, her knees shaking, her head swimming. God, this was amazing. How could it be so good? With just his fingers? With just a touch?

Iridescent whips of blue lashed at the blackness of the night. She cried out again, the color like a physical caress on her soul.

Blue fire. Blue fire engulfed her, engulfed them both. Where…where was it coming from? And how was she not screaming in pain? How was she…she…

The blue light swirled over her vision. Flames of color that danced and flicked into shapes that Deanne’s desire-drowned mind swore were dragons. Two dragons, their graceful bodies pressed together, their tails entwined, their wings whisking them into the night as their noses nuzzled.

“Come for me, my mate.” Ryan’s murmur played over her rapture like mist.

She did, her second climax rocketing through her.

Claiming her, just as he wrapped his other arm around her back and lowered her to the ground.

Her orgasm peaked, a detonation of scalding fire within her core. She clawed at his shoulders, the dragons of blue fire writhing through the darkness, making her burn hotter, hotter.

And then he spread her thighs with a purposeful knee and pushed inside her, his thick, hard length sliding in and out, driving her closer, faster to another orgasm. An impossible orgasm. One that shouldn’t be. One that could only bring pain.

“Fuck
me
, Tigress.” He thrust into her, his lips on her throat, his hands on her breasts, her belly, her ass. “You are so tight, so perfect. I’m gonna…gonna come soon. Soon. Oh fuck, come with me, honey. Come with me.”

Deanne whimpered. From pleasure. From rapture. From the fire engulfing her.

And as she called out her release, as Ryan’s name burst past her lips, the dragons swirled about her. Filled her vision. The night’s shadows grew blue, blue, so blue she could barely see. The sky vanished, lost to flames so hot they burned beyond blue to white.

Flames surrounding her. Surrounding Ryan.

Engulfing them both.

“Fuck,” Ryan roared, his rhythm lost to his thrusts. “Fuck, yes, yes.”

Their twin orgasms lasted a lifetime. The blue fire flared around them. Consumed them.

And then all too quickly, it finished. Deanne’s climax faded away, leaving her breathless and panting and clinging to Ryan’s hunched shoulders as he lay slumped—half on her, half on the ground beside her. She stared at the black, cloud-streaked sky above, her flesh ice cold after the smolder of the flames.

Flames? Blue fire? How are you still alive? This can’t be…

Ryan’s low, languid chuckle caressed the side of her throat. “Told you you were my Fire Mate.”

Deanne’s pulse thumped. She swallowed. “I’m
not
a dragon. I told you, I’m a Rider. That’s—”

“Bullshit,” he laughed, lifting his head to grin down at her. “Honey, you just lived through the mating fire. A human doesn’t survive that, no matter how many dragon shifters they’ve screwed. You know it. I know it. And now we’ve found each other, now we’ve experienced it together…”

Whatever Ryan said after that, Deanne didn’t hear.

She stared at him, her heart smashing fast against her breastbone, her mouth dry.

The blue fire.

Holy shit, had she just lived through what Julian sarcastically called the “fuck flames”? The phenomenon that occurred when two rutting dragons spontaneously combusted during coitus?

Had she truly just…just
burst into flames
, blue flames, while having an orgasm? A soul-shattering orgasm?

Had she?

Had she?

Oh God, how could that be?

She wasn’t a dragon shifter. She wasn’t. How could she be a dragon and
not
know it? It wasn’t possible.

No
Extraho Venator
could
ever
be a dragon.

And she’d been an
Extraho Venator
since the day her father had put a crossbow in her hands at the age of twelve, aimed it at a downed dragon, and told her to squeeze the trigger.

“
A
s much as I’d love to lose myself in the fire again, Tigress,” Ryan murmured, lifting his head from the side of his Fire Mate’s throat to smile down at her, “we have a hunter on our tails. We need to get moving. Ready?”

She stared up at him. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

And then, as a frown began to pull at his eyebrows, a look of sheer horror filled her face. She started thrashing beneath him, punching at his chest and shoulders. “Get off me,” she ground out, bucking, her eyes wild. “Get the fuck off me, you freak!”

Ryan reeled backward, too stunned to even think about deflecting or dodging her fists. Her knuckles cracked against his jaw, his cheek, as he scrambled to the ground next to her.

What the—

She clawed at the ground, propelling herself backward as her stare stayed locked on his face. “What the fuck did you do to me?” she snarled, disgust ripe in her voice.

Confusion colder than an icy spear sank into Ryan’s chest. He watched her scurry away from him, unable to comprehend what was happening.

The fading heat of the mating fire still licked through his body, as if mocking him.

“I didn’t do
anything
to you,” he said, his frown returning. “It was the mating fire. Surely you know what—”

What…fuck is… Oh God…what has…done to me…fuck…

Her feverish thoughts scratched at him, her terror clear in them.

For a split second Ryan reveled in the joining of their minds; a facet of the union with his destined mate he’d suspected he’d loathe. But then she was scrambling onto her hands and knees in a blur of preternatural speed, running away from him with equal speed, and delight turned to disbelief.

Ryan’s mouth fell open.

Without thought, he took after her, the cold Chicago air lashing at his naked body as he ran across the dark park. He could only hope they were both running so fast, no human would be able to track them in the pale moonlight. What must they look like, two naked people sprinting across the park?

“Hey,” he shouted, stare fixed on her back. A distant part of his brain noticed the tail of her tiger tattoo wrapped around her hip to kiss the base of her spine. The lingering remains of the mating fire appreciated that fact with a surge of hungry heat through his groin.

His feet stumbled as his cock throbbed. Christ, was his body kidding? He was in some fucked-up, surreal high-speed pursuit of his Fire Mate and his body, his dragon, wanted them to go at it like rabbits again? Already?

Letting out a growl, his temper and patience at a fraying point, Ryan threw himself forward, shifting as he did so.

A million pinpricks of heat danced over his flesh as his human form transformed into his dragon. The air around him—searing from the abrupt displacement—pressed against his scales.

He thrust his wings down, propelling himself toward his Fire Mate with a speed and strength beyond physical comprehension or definition. The flight of a dragon.

He had no idea what she was playing at, but Ryan knew this park wasn’t the place to find out.

Reaching for her with his front right foot, he scooped her up, locking his long clawed toes around her naked waist and then propelling them both upward.