Authors: Jory Strong
“They don’t know dragons.” He nuzzled her
neck, lips both soft and firm. “If I call for the cup, will you drink from it
with me?”
She didn’t discount the importance of the
question, the commitment to a relationship that it symbolized. For the men of
the club and their women, the ritual would be every bit as important and significant
as her sister accepting a collar.
Lyra traced the dragon on Tielo’s chest,
mind shying away from his initial poker play until she forced herself to focus
on it. She’d worried he was like her biological father, and feared she was too.
She wasn’t. Neither was Tielo.
“I’ll drink a toast with you.”
To being
one of those couples who make it.
His purr of satisfaction made her smile.
He gave her a hard kiss before pulling
away, leaving her to admire a firm ass and beautifully proportioned male body
as he strode toward the bedroom. He entered it, disappearing from sight long
enough to snag a man’s button-down shirt before returning to her.
He slipped the shirt on her, buttoning
every button as if unwilling to have her reveal an inch more flesh than was necessary.
After snagging his trousers from the floor and pulling them on, he used the
desk phone, saying, “Henri, have Pierce bring the cup. He can serve as
witness.”
Pierce did not come alone.
Guards flanked him, and Lyra imagined there
were others outside, covering the windows.
Even in victory, Tielo could hardly stand to have other males see Lyra’s bare legs and be
in the presence of her lush scent. He closed the door on the guards, reminding
himself that Pierce was an already-mated man.
Pierce’s smug smile further eased him. The
fey might think he’d won, but Tielo knew the greater prize was his. A mate.
Lyra. And he found he didn’t want to share her with anyone else for days, if
not weeks.
The family she’d spoken of didn’t have that
kind of time. In fact, come morning, she’d insist on leaving him if he didn’t
preempt her reason for it.
First things first. “May others find the
same happiness as I have this night,” he said, drinking from the cup before
holding it to her lips.
Fiery satisfaction exploded inside him when
she drank. When she’d finished, he said, “It occurs to me you might prefer to
help the Ochoas anonymously. I have a possible solution.”
Her smile was nearly blinding. Being the
focus of it swelled his chest with pleasure.
“What’s your idea?”
He handed the cup back to Pierce and
encircled Lyra with his arms. “The meals they offer at their restaurant are
good?” Not that it really mattered, of course, but it would make things far
easier and the tale soon to be spun more believable.
“Better than just good. They’re delicious
and very reasonably priced.”
“I propose we use Pierce as our emissary.
Would they know Storm, by any chance?”
“I’m pretty sure I used to see her police
car parked there sometimes when she worked as a uniformed cop.”
“Perfect. That will lend credibility to the
claim Pierce will make, that he’s found the very restaurant he’s been looking
for to take up occupancy in a vacant space near Inner Magick. The cost of
renovations and the move will be covered, and accepting the proposition will
come with an advance of funds, as well as a donation to the hospital to offset
the balance owed for the boys’ medical care.”
“He can make that happen?”
Amusement surpassed dragon aggravation at
having Lyra look at Pierce with admiration and thankfulness. “Pierce doesn’t
brag about his connection to Severn Damek, but there is one.” Not as close as
the one Tielo himself had, but right now he didn’t want to focus on family
relationships, other than the most important—fully claiming his mate and
helping her accept the reality of a supernatural world coexisting with the
human one.
Tielo tightened his arms around her,
rubbing his cheek to hers. “Pierce can be quite persuasive when he sets his
mind to it. In fact, he might well be viewed as a fairy godfather. Handling the
situation this way will allow your relationship with the family to remain as it
always has been, untroubled by gratitude or feelings of obligation.”
Lyra’s heart swelled with the beginnings of
love. She suspected the connection to Severn Damek was really his; after all,
Severn Damek fancied himself a dragon as well, while Pierce made no such claim.
Tenderness assailed her, that Tielo would
give her this gift without taking credit for more than the idea. She turned in
his arms. “Thank you.”
Color crept into his face, at being caught
doing something good or because Pierce witnessed it and laughed, she didn’t
know which, only that it was endearing.
“Leave,” Tielo growled at Pierce.
“Leaving.” And he did so with the firm
close of the door.
Chapter Seven
Lyra teased Tielo with the rub of her cunt
to his erection. She was beginning to think he might just have supernatural
powers because his constant state of readiness defied what she knew to be true
of men. “What next?”
“You need to ask?” The show of affront made
her laugh. She liked the growly dragon persona, but she like this playful one
too.
“Show me.”
“Always. And as often as necessary.” His
mouth swooped down on hers, hands sliding beneath the borrowed shirt to grip
her bare ass.
Heat returned in a rush, pooling in her
labia and making her desperate for what she’d denied herself. “I want you
inside me,” she said, nipples tight, aching. The heavy fullness of her breasts
reminiscent of the fertility statuettes she’d seen in a recent museum visit.
He answered by scooping her up in his arms
and carrying her with smooth, easy strides into the bedroom.
The instant she was on her feet, his hands
went to the front of the shirt. He turned the same strength he’d just exhibited
to a different use. Buttons scattered as he bared her with a fierceness that
said he’d hated having her covered by anything but his body.
His gaze roamed over her possessively,
hungrily. Her heart leapt, not fear, but shocked arousal at just how turned-on
his primal display made her, by his growled command. “Get on the bed.”
Lyra lowered her eyelashes, taking her time
as she pushed the ruined shirt off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
“Don’t you want me to help you undress first?”
Her hands went to the front of his pants.
She loved the contrast of dark to light as her knuckles pressed into the taut
muscles of his abdomen and her fingers curled beneath his waistband so her
thumbs could rub and stroke his cloth-covered erection.
He shuddered, a whole-body shout of need
that heightened her feelings of femininity and powerfulness. This time she was
the one to initiate the kiss, and to moan at the contact of her nipples with
his.
The studded barbell he wore added to the
eroticism. His hands on her back, firm and confident, possessive, made her feel
precious and protected.
More. She needed more. A more thorough
joining with this man the cards had favored for her.
Against her fingers he seemed to swell
further, to thicken, the tip of his cock already slick, fully lubricated to aid
in getting inside her. Not that he needed it. She was sopping wet, her labia
swollen and parted.
The ache radiating from her nipples
demanded relief. She forced herself away from his mouth. “Bed,” she managed,
and he nipped her neck, no doubt a reminder he’d ordered that very thing.
She opened the front of his pants and
pushed them off his hips before getting on the bed, kneeling on the mattress
rather than sprawling on her back.
He joined her, lying on the bed, dragon
persona if not dragon in form. His eyes demanding she come to him, that she
pleasure him.
She crawled forward, loving the way her
breasts felt, swaying enticingly, drawing Tielo’s gaze, his nostrils flaring
and his lips parted, ready to latch on to her nipples.
His cock bobbed and pulled away from his
body as if trying to call her attention. As if it needed to. She wanted to give
him that kind of pleasure. She wanted to receive it at the same time.
She brushed her lips across his, swallowed
his low moan of pleasure and anticipation before changing position. She rose
above him, kissed her way down to his nipples and in the process offered hers.
He latched on to her with a hungry sound,
his hands caressing her breasts, grasping her sides to hold as he sucked and
laved. The pull of his mouth sending streaks of fire to her cunt, to her clit.
Within minutes it became impossible to
ignore the demand for relief, the craving to feel his mouth between her thighs.
She took his cock between her lips. Not teasing him this time. She couldn’t
bear the retaliation, not when the feel of his tongue fucking into her, the
swirl and stroke of it on her clit had her seconds away from orgasm.
Her buttocks clenched and she ground her
pussy against his face. She panted, moaned around his girth, desperately
lapping at his escaped arousal.
She sucked as his hips lifted in an effort
to drive deeper, the movement making it feel as though there were firm ridges
just beneath the head. She sought them with her tongue, but managed only a
single touch before his mouth on her pussy became ruthlessly demanding, before
he forced her into the wild ecstasy of release.
Tielo swallowed her down, bathed in scent
and taste and the hot evidence of her desire for him until she returned to
herself. Then he flipped her onto her back, unable to withstand the torment of
denial any longer. He was close to becoming fully dragon in her presence.
A slow penetration was impossible. Or so he
thought—until he was lodged at her opening, his girth near true size, the rings
beneath his cock head fully exposed and hard against his hand, the touch of his
own flesh as her channel spasmed on his tip nearly enough to have him coming.
By the Great Shared Ancestor. The roar of
fire filled his head and his skin was already coated in a sheen of moisture. He
fought against slamming home, not willing to take his pleasure in the violent,
painful sundering of his mate’s body.
“I want you inside me,” she said, nails
digging into his back, scraping downward to his buttocks.
He found a smile at how dragon-like she
was. He gave her an inch, eyes closing at the flutter and clamp of internal
muscles, at the very tightness that turned breathing into a struggle.
It had never been like this for him. And if
he’d claimed the power to make her forget anyone before him, then she had that
same power.
He trembled with need. Slowly worked his
way in, his mouth claiming hers, his soul drinking in the sounds of her
acceptance as he stretched her, filled her, and in turn was consumed by the
need to make her irrevocably and completely his in a binding that worked both
ways.
Feminine legs lifted and locked at the base
of his spine, driving him deeper and making it impossible to remain motionless.
Ecstasy rushed through him with each thrust, stripping away civilized veneer
and turning him into primal being, a male intent on mating his female. He lay
heavily on her, holding some of his weight on his elbows so he could cradle her
body, allowing his wrists to touch the soft skin above her shoulder blades.
The lush cushion of her breasts was a
temptation to wallow and roll and trumpet his victory and pleasure. The rub of
her tongue and heady grip of her sheath insisted he move. Harder. Deeper.
Faster. Until she crested again, the savage clamp of her channel a demand for
her mate’s seed.
He came on a roar, hollow mating spurs
finally descending, finally filling and piercing her skin, the release of serum
prolonging and intensifying orgasm like a heated fist pumping his testicles
repeatedly. Each squeeze sending a hot wave of semen through his cock and into
his female so that even when he had nothing more to give, his hips continued to
jerk, extending the pleasure until the effects of the serum rendered her
unconscious.
He propped himself on his elbows then,
content to merely watch his mate sleep while his cock remained lodged inside
her. She’d grown more beautiful as the evening progressed, and learning her
motives for coming to the club had only made her shine like a brilliantly cut
jewel, though no treasure matched a dragon mate’s worth.
He nuzzled her, whispered kisses across her
lips, nibbled, already addicted to taste and scent and touch. She’d accept the
truth. She wouldn’t fear him when he revealed himself to her.
“Mine,” he said against her neck, smiling
at imagining her making the same claim of him.
He hardened again, and it turned her lack
of consciousness into sweet torture. How did other males stand it? He had hours
before him, more than he needed to get her safely ensconced in his dragon realm
lair.
He pulled from her depths rather than take
her again. He cuddled against her back, his length between her thighs, touched
to hot woman’s flesh. It became impossible to remain still.
She responded to him despite being trapped
in the serum-induced sleep. Pushing backward in counterpoint to his thrusts,
her labia swelling, parting, drenching him in arousal.
He moaned when her hand took possession of
his shaft, becoming a fist to fuck through, to rub the rings beneath his cock
head against.
Perhaps a human gentleman would force
himself to cease, to leave the bed. But he would never be human despite the
appearance of it. And caught in the throes of first mating, the merits of being
a gentleman were lost on him. He cupped a breast, a thrill of masculine
satisfaction going through him at the way her nipple tightened and her back
arched on a moan of welcome and desire.
“I will take care of you always,” he
pledged, jerking when her thumb rubbed over the slit in his cock head, a
coaxing request for his seed that filled his testicles in a hot, twisting rush
and searing swell.
His buttocks clenched. He panted, grunted
when her grip tightened, forcing him to work at fucking through it, to fight as
he’d had to in order to become fully sheathed inside her.
The rings might be meant to cause ovulation
in dragon females, but in his human mate’s grip, each strike of them against
the edge of her clamped hand made him shudder as exquisite sensation spread
from his cock in hot ripples that only intensified his craving and his need.
The bond between them wasn’t fully formed,
but her actions said she dreamed of him, of this, experiencing as fantasy what
was reality for him. But even then, he would not take without giving.
His hand left her breast for her clit. He
stroked the pleasure center as her hand moved up and down on the part of his
shaft not pressed tight and wet to her folds as he cuddled against the soft
globes of her ass, dragon size again giving him an advantage.
Her hips bucked in time to his, her toes
curling against his leg. And when she cried out, it was a siren song, calling
him to his own release. Ropey jets of semen flooded her hand and washed onto
her belly, adding to his satisfaction.
He lay snuggled against her for long
moments afterward, regaining his strength. The thought made him smile, then
made that smile widen as he imagined Lyra’s reaction to the admission.
A kiss to her shoulder led to further
nuzzling. His mate was definitely a distraction. He suspected he’d soon be
counting the moments until the final school bell of the day rang. Long nights
spent at the gaming tables were a thing of the past, unless of course, it was a
private battle of skill and resilience between the two of them.
He levered himself away from her, leaving
only long enough to bring a warm washcloth back from the bathroom so he could
tend to her, making her comfortable before taking a shower then returning to
cuddle with her and allow the effects of the serum to wear off some.
He snoozed lightly, rising when an internal
alarm told him it was time to take her to the portal. He dressed before going
to the office safe and removing a velvet bag full of jewels. Keeping her naked
until the very last, then putting a shirt on her and carrying her to the
mustard-yellow Lamborghini he’d driven to the club.
The car invited speeding, and he was often
guilty of it. Not this trip. He didn’t dare risk being stopped though he chafed
and cursed, and found himself on the brake more often than the gas.
He traveled to an old, weather-beaten house
along the coast. It was a picturesque place captured in photographs by tourists
who never guessed at its significance. Pulling around back, he parked in an
attached garage and got out.
At the door leading into the house, he
touched a series of sigils in the correct sequence. It unlocked. He opened it
then returned to the car, collecting his mate and carrying her inside and to
the portal entry itself.
It was an expensive passage, but well worth
it. He dumped the entire contents of the velvet bag into a slot built in the
wall.
A door slid open, revealing a completely
dark room. The muted sunlight of early morning reached down the hallway but did
not cross the threshold of this timeless place where worlds converged.
He stepped into the room, anticipation
singing in his veins, the bond with his mate made real and permanent in the beat
of a heart as darkness gave way to bright sunshine and brisk flower-scented
winds.
He knew immediately he wasn’t alone. A
phantom crest rose along his neck, only to settle as a dark blue dragon with
cream underside transformed into a human-appearing woman before entering the
stone building perched high in the air of neutral territory. Sonata. He
acknowledged her with a nod, his usual wariness when around female dragons not
present with this distant cousin. Her submissive nature was anathema to the dominant
females who’d long ruled because the existence of the Dragon’s Cup had shifted
the balance of power.
That would change now. Perhaps over time
equality would come to exist between the sexes. Perhaps the curse linking
dragon fertility to the chalice would soon be broken altogether. Severn had
told him Malik investigated the possibility and thought he might be closer to
an answer.
“Best wishes,” Sonata said, voice soft.
“Best wishes to you, also.” In finding what
she must be seeking, a mate, though in truth, he was surprised she had the
courage to leave what was familiar and venture into the unknown.
He stepped out onto the ledge with Lyra. He
was almost sorry his mate was still unconscious, though perhaps he needed to
learn whether she was a thrill seeker before demonstrating what he could do.