Mikolas (2 page)

Mikolas Tatsu is hot.

It wouldn’t be so bad being mated to him.

You’d get to touch that hard body everywhere you wanted. Have it touch you. Imagine him between your thighs, his dark head bent while he licks—

Nope.

Take him for your own.

He’s yours.

Yeah, how mine would he be
, she thought to herself,
if he knew I was an Alpha claiming him and not the other way around.

Her logical brain said that he might just. He was content to beta to his brother, even though he had many Alpha qualities.

Then she remembered her mother, sneaking away with her in the dark of night to meet her cousin, a king, underground. She remembered being shoved into his arms while the dragons circled on the surface burning everything in their path looking for her mother.

And she remembered too short a time later, how Glorfindel had come to her and taken her into his lap and told her a pretty story about where Orlaith Princesses go when they die.

She knew it was wrong to judge an individual on the actions of others, but self-preservation wouldn’t allow anything else.

When they got to the room, it did indeed have a heart-shaped tub, one bed, and a bathroom not big enough to turn around in.

But she didn’t care.

She was so hot, her skin was on fire. It was as if her insides had been turned to lava. Her vision had blurred and her mouth was dry.

“Gods, Voshkie.” He caught her as she stumbled toward the bed.

“Don’t touch,” she pleaded. She didn’t know if she could resist the Fever while he was actually touching her.

“Should I just let you fall on your face?”

He swept her up in his arms and touching him skin to skin was the only thing that cooled the burn, only it was a lie—that cooling sensation. It burned too, but in another way.

She was so fucked.

M
ikolas was at a loss
.

Voshkie’s condition had gone from bad to worse in seconds.

Her skin was so hot, she burned to the touch. He didn’t know how to help her. She’d asked him not to touch her, but then when he’d caught her she didn’t seem to want him to put her down. She’d burrowed as close to him as she could get, stroking her hands all over him. Only, she didn’t seem to realize she was doing it.

So he sat on the edge of the bed, holding the warrior nymph close, her face turned into his neck.

Only, he got the feeling she knew exactly what was wrong with her.

Her skin seemed to get even hotter. He knew her temperature was such that no mortal could survive it. He didn’t know about nymphs.

“We’ve got to get your fever down,” he said in a calm voice.

“It’ll pass,” she mumbled against his neck.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. You’re burning up.”

“Not your sweetheart,” she grumbled, but she continued to cling to him.

“Tell me how to help you.”

“Go away.”

“I’m not leaving you like this, Voshkie. I’m not going to hurt you, but I can’t leave you alone.”

“Wouldn’t let you hurt me.” Her lips moved against his neck.

Her warm mouth, her breath brushing so lightly against his skin, her hands exploring his body, all sensations that went straight to his cock.

“Voshkie, you need to lie down.” He eased her back on the bed and her arms came around his neck, the embrace of a lover.

“Please.”

All she’d said was please. It was a single word, but it encompassed so much. If he read her correctly. Her body wanted his touch, but she didn’t. She wanted relief from the pain that was to come, from the heat building under her skin, but she didn’t want to consummate whatever this was between them.

Gods help him.

We are more
. The voice in his head said. It meant he was more than a base animal. He was a dragon, but he ultimately had control. His dragon surrendered to him, to the man that caged him because he didn’t want to hurt Voshkie.

Mating with a female during Mating Fever whose rational mind didn’t consent was rape. No matter what pheromones she sprayed, no matter the signals her body gave him, it was what came out of her mouth that mattered. She said no.

He didn’t understand why she’d been struck with Mating Fever. Perhaps it was different for gold nymphs, but he’d thought the Fever was only a shifter phenomenon. Except that Krysanthe had been struck similarly, or so Ondrej had told him.

“I understand. Lie down.” He removed her arms from around his neck and placed them at her sides. “We need to get these clothes off of you and get you into a cold bath to bring your temperature down.”

He peeled her clothes off and tried not to look at her flesh as he did so. But dear gods, she was beautiful. The form of her body followed function. She was well-muscled and scarred. Her legs long and strong, but the curve of her hip and her ass… it was just the right size for his hands.

And her breasts.

He could have written odes to them.

Her skin looked like brushed gold and her almost white hair… she was exotic. Strong. Feminine. She was all things his.

Oh, shit. No, not his.

It was just the Mating Fever. If he didn’t give in, if he didn’t feel the things she felt, there’d be no bond. She couldn’t be his mate. He’d have felt the Fever before her.

“Don’t look.”

“You’re in no shape to strip yourself and I can’t do it blind.” A cold splash of guilt washed down his back because he’d liked looking at her. So he confessed. “But I won’t lie and say I didn’t look. Or I didn’t like what I saw. I’m sorry, I’ll try not to.”

She yanked him down to her. “Stop being so goddamn perfect.”

“Fine,” he growled and before he could think better of it, their mouths collided.

Kissing her was unlike any other before her. She took as much as she gave. She didn’t melt against him, or press herself to him, she pulled him down. She made him meet her halfway. It was so fucking sexy.

Her hands on the waist of his leathers brought him back to the world.

He wrapped his hands around her wrists and pinned them at her sides and broke the kiss. “This isn’t what you said you wanted.”

“There you go with that perfect thing again. You’re fucking me up, Mik.”

He liked hearing his name on her lips. It was almost as intimate as her hand on his cock—almost.

“Being a decent person isn’t perfect by a long shot, Voshkie.” He pulled her up and lifted her into his arms. “Now, come on. Into the tub.”

He dropped her into the large tub he’d begun filling with cool water. Mik expected a bit of a fight, but she seemed to relax as lukewarm water leached the heat from her.

As the water covered more of her skin, she said, “God, this is embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I… it’s not you. You know that, right?”

“So what if it was me? You don’t owe me an explanation.” He got a washcloth and dipped it in the water before pressing it to her head.

She sighed and sank down, resting her head against the edge of the tub.

“I’m still embarrassed,” she said.

“Why?” He wrung out the hot cloth and replaced it with a cool one. “It’s just part of life for some of us.”

“Because the Fever hit me and not you.”

He laughed. “You think I didn’t feel anything? You said it’s not what you wanted. You even told me not to look. End of story.”

Voshkie shivered and her teeth chattered lightly. “I thought the Fever made it impossible to deny.”

“That’s bullshit. Kind of like how blue balls won’t really kill you? Yeah.”

“I’m scared, Mikolas.” Her voice was so quiet, so small.

It made him feel like the biggest asshole on two or four legs. “Of me?”

“A little.”

He froze.

“Not because I think you want to hurt me. I know you don’t. But I’m afraid you will anyway.”

He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He kept thinking about that kiss they’d shared and was pretty sure she could hurt him, too.

“That’s the chance everyone takes, isn’t it?”

“If you were more of a bastard, I wouldn’t be feeling like this.”

He’d never been taken to task for being a decent male. Instead of being offended, he said, “If it was only that I’m not a shit, you’d have had a boner for Ondrej and Imre and Fabian as well.”

“Who says I don’t?”

He growled low in his throat and a puff of smoke came out of his nostrils.

“What was that?” She twisted in the tub and turned around to look at him.

“Proof that you’re not the only one feeling it.” He didn’t like laying himself so bare, but Mikolas could do no less when she allowed herself to be vulnerable with him.

She rose up on her knees, body slick, glistening, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from following a single drop of water as it trickled down to the valley between her breasts.

“It seems like you’re feeling better. I’m going to step out so you can finish your bath.”

Voshkie grabbed him by the belt buckle. “How about I finish
you
?”

He covered her hands with his. “Voshkie—”

“I’m of sound mind at the moment, and you’re of sound body. Gimme.” She tore open the belt and pulled it through the loops like some kind of infernal lasso. But when she looked up at him, the expression on her face was soft. “Let me ease you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I really want to.” She slipped the button free. “I get to touch you without you touching me. Without giving in to the Mating Fever.”

This was the stuff of fantasies, her hands undoing his leathers. Her pretty, lush mouth… he wasn’t going to argue. The Fever had cooled, and it would come again, but this was all her. She wanted to do this and he wanted her hands on him more than he’d ever wanted another.

She freed his cock and wrapped her fingers around him. Voshkie looked up at him, her eyes glowing like molten gold.

Fantasies? Gods, he was afraid he’d remember the sight of her wet and hot for him every time he came from now until the stars burned out.

Voshkie was on her knees for him.

The very idea made his cock surge.

Only he should be on his knees for her.

He should be the one worshipping her golden divinity. All he could think about, even as she took him into her mouth was that he should be pleasuring her.

Not that it wasn’t fucking amazing, because it was. It embarrassed him that he was ready to spill just as soon as she started sucking him. She demanded his pleasure and it was his body’s biological imperative to give it to her.

“Gods, but I love touching you,” she purred as she licked up his shaft.

“You should allow me the same.”

She backed away from him. “We can’t.”

“Oh, but we can.” He felt his dragon rise and knew his eyes were supernaturally green, glowing. “My dragon wants to taste your ecstasy on his tongue.” He held out his hand to her. “Trust me to please you and keep the covenant you’ve asked for.”

“I’m putting my life in your hands.”

“Haven’t you already?” He cocked his head to the side. “And haven’t I already proven myself to you on a field of battle? Haven’t I proven myself to you right here when the Fever hit you hard?”

He wanted her trust more than he wanted her mouth on his cock and that was a mighty need in itself.

“There are things about me you don’t know. Things I can’t share with you.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled his leathers up his hips and buttoned up. “If we don’t trust each other, Voshkie, this shouldn’t happen.”

“Are you saying no to the best blow job you’ve ever had?” she was incredulous.

“Looks that way.”

“Don’t you want me?” Her voice was suddenly incredibly small.

Mikolas already knew her well enough to know that she hated speaking those words. Hated how vulnerable she sounded.

“Of course I do. But I’ve lived long enough to know that just getting off doesn’t do it for me anymore. I want the connection. I want the trust that comes with intimacy. If I just wanted a nut, I can do that myself. I have needs just like you do.”

She bit her lip. “You’re the only male I’ve ever met—”

“That would be like me saying you’re the only strong female I’ve ever met. Utter bullshit. Some of us just wear everything on our sleeves and others have deeper, quieter waters.”

“I want to trust you.”

“If you don’t already, then you’re not going to. And that’s okay. But I’m going to go outside so you can finish your bath.”

“Don’t leave me.”

He pushed his hand through his hair. “Vosh, we’re at an impasse here. I’m not trying to push you to do anything you don’t want, but…”

Mikolas felt like the biggest piece of shit. She didn’t want to be alone. She was saying she needed him and he was trying to leave just because his dick was hard. If he was really worthy of her trust, as he’d proclaimed himself to be, he’d be able to stay with her.

He supposed he didn’t trust himself.

Mik wouldn’t be able to tell her no again and he’d be left with a need for a woman who did not want a mate—let alone a dragon mate.

“You’ll only touch me?” She rose up out of the water.

“This is a bad idea,” he said slowly, but his ability to form coherent sentences was quickly escaping him.

“I know, but I want to experience you, Mik. I’ve felt desire before, but nothing like this. And it’s not a generalization when I say I’ve never met anyone like you. You make me want to trust. You make me believe. Do you know how terrifying that is?”

“Of course, I do. I’ve never met anyone like you either. It’s not only your strength, because I have known so many strong and amazing females. I feel things with you that I know I shouldn’t.” Like loyalty. He couldn’t serve two masters, but he felt he was quickly being ripped in two pieces. The Mik that belonged to the Drago Knights and the Mik that belonged to Voshkie of the Orlaith. It wasn’t just that he thought she was his mate, there was something more. As if she were a Drago Knight as well. He couldn’t explain it.

Voshkie stepped out of the tub and advanced on him.

He knew he was the prey in this equation, and he couldn’t find a single fuck to give. Well, that was a lie. He could definitely find a fuck…

She pushed him down on the bed. “No more hiding. For either of us, okay?”

He kicked off his boots and peeled his leathers off in response.

Voshkie smiled, and it wasn’t a soft, sweet demure kind of smile. It was cunning, predatory, and it was sexy as hell. She pounced on him, bracing her knees on both sides of his head, she dipped her head again to taste him.

He decided fair was fair and he returned the favor.

The first taste of her was like—gold. The way it felt to have gold in his hands, the scent of it—if it had a taste, it would be Voshkie.

Mikolas filled his hands with the firm globes of her ass and brought her down closer to his mouth. She worked his cock in time with his tongue on her clit—they fell easily into erotic synchronicity.

The tension built inside him to a crescendo, but it was secondary to the need inside of him to please her—to serve her.

Even then, it was a kind of battle. “You first,” she demanded, then took him deep in her mouth.

He could do nothing but comply, even though he wanted to make it last longer, wanted to drag it out. Mikolas wanted to feel every moment of this because he didn’t know if he’d ever have the chance again.

His orgasm was secondary to hers. The pleasure, the satisfaction, they spiraled out of control as she lost hers and he could taste her bliss on his lips. She shuddered against his mouth and if she’d allow it, he’d be content to lick her all night long.

But she pulled away, taking his new favorite treat with her.

Voshkie shifted so that she leaned over him and she pressed her lips against his. He tasted them together in the kiss and he could only dream about pushing her down on the bed and sliding deep into her soft heat.

She collapsed on the bed next to him, obviously sated and out of breath. “That was fucking amazing.”