by JL Madore
Slecking hell.
Tipping my head back under the stream of water, I close my eyes and let the sluice of hot and steamy run through my hair, down my back, and over my ass.
Mated.
My dragon’s tantrum has really slecking screwed me over. I had feelings for Creed before, sure. I respected his strength, sympathized with his situation, and yeah, physically, there’s no getting away from the obvious—the guy is ripped and sexy as a god.
But before the soul-searing, I was never conflicted like this. And I certainly wasn’t homicidally dominant to take what is mine.
Reaching under the dispenser, I wait for a puddle of soap to drop into my palm and then start moving it over my pecs. Once I get my froth on, I let those slick hands do their thing.
My mind flips back to Keyla’s visit last night.
The look in those warm, brown eyes, as she told me things could be different. The altered scent of her skin when she exposed her neck to me. The feel of her tongue on my throat as she tasted my flesh and her wolf called me home.
Unbidden, my dragon stretches within me, luxuriating in the heat of that moment.
Sure, she’d been baiting me, seducing me toward switching sides, but intentions aside, she offered me exactly what I want.
My dark and twisted prince.
Whether I regret it or not, Creed responded to my dragon’s claim. Pinned against that wall, he wanted what I offered. Every moan and thrust and scent at that moment is etched into my memory.
He submitted—which surprised me, given how aggressive he’s always been when we’re together—but once our bodies were locked and I claimed his vein, he gave me the power.
I groan as my cock surges. The magic of his blood still rushes through my veins like a drug. And after only one taste, I am addicted.
I take my time shampooing, and let those memories mingle with the reality of who we are.
Enemies with benefits.
Sweeping my palm down the sculpted ridges of my torso, a moan rumbles from my chest when I grab hold of my cock. My erection kicks in my hand and I draw a deep breath. Is this what I’ve been reduced to? Jacking off in the shower to my self-destructive mistakes?
I rinse the suds off my hands and bend to grab the next bottle of ale from the floor outside my shower. If I’m going to do this, I might as well do it right.
The next few gulps of ale go down easy, and I lower the trajectory of the nozzles and turn on the buffing cloths. Closing my eyes, I let the dark stout flow over my tongue, crank up the rotation speeds, and let things take their course.
Shit that feels good.
I play back the sensations of claiming him: Creed’s blood flowing down my throat and feeding my hunger, the rise and fall of his mighty chest pumping against mine, the solid shaft of his cock in my grip as I palmed him rough.
Leaning back against the cold tile, I take hold of my cock and settle into a rhythm.
I swallow another gulp of ale and miss the tastes of my dark-souled prince… his blood, his sweat, and best of all, his cum. Shit, I love to suck him off.
I set the bottle on the ledge opposite me and brace myself against the shower wall. Leaning forward, I watch the crown of my cock pop free from my palm and then get swallowed with each rapid stroke. The pressure building in my balls is so agonizingly good.
The scent of his skin…
I close my eyes and breathe deep. Slecking hell, it’s like he’s—my eyes flip wide and I curse.
It’s not me imagining his scent.
Creed is here and he’s naked.
When he steps into the shower it strikes me there are a dozen things I should do to diffuse this. I need to protest. I need to send him back to his mates. I need to draw a line for both our sakes.
I don’t do any of them.
This is a terrible idea.
He’s in my space. Vik could walk in. And even if he doesn’t come until after, Creed’s scent will be in here. The man has two mates waiting for him across the hall why does he have to be here screwing up my life?
I need to object.
I need to stop this.
I need to talk to him.
No. No talking. Talking will ruin everything and rob me of this moment.
Lifting my chin, I grip both sides of Creed’s chiseled jaw and pull his mouth to mine. When those velvet lips meet mine, I kiss him with all the desperation I’ve been pushing down for the past week.
My need is an over-inflated beach ball shoved underwater. The moment our bodies connect, all that pent-up rejection releases, shooting out of the water in a dizzying fury.
The two of us are grasping, crashing together in abandon. Lips, tongues, and hands, all frantic.
And it’s not only me who’s desperate. When Creed pulls back to suck in a breath, his eyes are wild, his expression tormented. “I’m still furious with you.”
“Understood.”
“I fucking hate how it went down.”
“Agreed.”
He drops to his knees and takes me into his mouth.
He’s not gentle and I have to pike at the waist and catch my weight on the opposite wall to accommodate his seizure of my cock. I curse and my dragon ascends in a rush.
Slecking hell, he pushes my control.
Watching his head bob and twist over my cock is too much. His silver hair is wet and I slick my hand over the back of his head to keep him in place.
My release was already close when he arrived, there’s no holding it back.
I grunt, panting as I grip his hair and spill into his greedy mouth.
The shout of my release echoes off the hard surfaces and bounces back at us from all angles. My body goes rigid, convulsing in a series of mind-shattering spasms that run the length of my spine.
As the chaos of the last few moments ebbs out of me, the room begins to swim. Maybe it’s the power of the release or the steamy heat of the shower or the emotion swimming in my head… who cares.
Before I go down, Creed’s got his arms around me and shuts off the water. A moment later, I’m on my stomach on the bathroom floor.
The tiny bathmat doesn’t save much of my skin from the icy chill of being lain out on the tile. Still, the cool does wonders for clearing my head. I take a few cleansing breaths and realize Creed isn’t finished with me yet.
The shiver that runs the length of my spine has more to do with the anticipation of what’s to come than the icy granite tiles I’m lying on.
Dripping wet, Creed crawls up my back, his erection brushing the inside of my thighs like something in an erotic dream.
“I’m still furious with you,” he says again, lowering himself between my legs.
That’s fine. He can be furious with me.
Hell, I’m furious with me.
I glance back, lock gazes with him, and nod. Whatever he needs to do to ease my betrayal I’ll do. He has my consent. He can take me hard and use me if that’s what works. I’m just so glad to be part of the process.
“I need inside you.”
That’s good because I was thinking the same thing. “There’s liquid in that drawer.”
The soft hiss of my vanity drawer opening is followed by the pop of the tilting seal of a lubrication bottle. Honestly, I’m surprised he’s opting for the lube. When he’s really angry, he punishes us both by leaving things raw.
I don’t care how raw we get. He’s holding all the power right now and we both know it.
“On your knees.”
I push up and dry my palms on the mat so I can brace my weight against the floor and ready for what comes next.
Creed slicks lubricant on me and mounts me from behind. My spent arousal pulses with a reawakening. The invasion is fast, the fullness of him thrusting deep very welcome. Angry or not, the stinging pleasure of being taken by my mate makes my wild side roar.
“This is for your dragon,” he says, pushing deep and then receding. “Keyla and Doc are worried about your animal side and the safety of those around yo
u.”
I clench my jaw, Creed’s rhythm quickly growing to be fast and furious. “They know you’re here?”
“Of course,” he grunts. “They are my mates. I will never betray them.”
I’m not sure what I think about that…
Actually, I do. It’s a huge hit to my ego. Somewhere inside me, I envisioned Creed sneaking over to be with me because they weren’t enough, that he couldn’t get what he needed from them and secretly craved me.
That’s not the case.
Still, he’s here with me now and that’s something—no, it’s everything. Pushing all thoughts of the rest of it away, I focus on the pleasure of being with Creed. The grip of his fingers on my hips. The demanding rhythm of his thrusts. The breathy sounds he makes when he’s getting close to detonating and marking my insides.
No matter how many times we do this, I always end up needing him more.
My balls tighten as I head toward another release. His scent is everywhere, and I’m lost in it. His scent has altered since the last time we were together. Last night, I smelled Creed in Keyla’s scent, now I smell her in his.
Despite what she told me to do, I didn’t picture her naked for a rub and tug in the wee hours. Maybe I should have. Maybe then I could’ve gotten some sleep.
While having her scent singing my nostrils at this moment there’s no helping it.
I call up the image of her naked in the living room yesterday. I remember the soft curves of her hips and the lush heaviness of her breasts.
“We are mates, Rhylan Silverwing. If you would welcome it, I would ease you.”
Creed
I sense the moment Rhylan’s mind shifts and curse. He’s close. I know he is. Keyla and Doc explained how dangerous unacknowledged wildling mates can get—and he’s a dragon. For his sake and ours, he needs to remain stable. I don’t want him to lose this release.
Opening a mental channel, I…
“We are mates, Rhylan Silverwing. If you would welcome it, I would ease you.”
My rhythm falters for a moment as I see Keyla in his mind. She’s naked and he’s very curious about her.
If you’re curious, let me show you what it’s like to be mated to her.
Before he can argue, I open the library of my recent memories. I show him sensual clips of Keyla on her knees and the glory of how tightly her pussy squeezes my cock when I’m inside her.
I let him feel the suction of her hot little mouth as she toys with my crown and swallows my cum. I share the throaty, feminine sounds she makes as Dillan and I wind her up and the growl of her wolf when she’s pitching over the edge of her control.
Rhylan’s release hits hard and I reach around his hip to grip his cock. Hips locked forward, shoulders rigid, head back, he’s exquisite as he spills over my hand.
Stroking him off, I ride out his release, remembering every sensual, seductive detail of what it is to be naked with her. Then, as his breathing settles, I play him back the non-sexual moments.
The sound of her laughter when she’s fooling around on the dancefloor with Jaxx. The playful grin she flashes me when she’s teasing me about something. The tenderness in her gaze when she looks at our bear and doesn’t realize I’m watching.
“You love her,” Rhy says, easing forward and shifting to face me. “I thought it was just the searing.”
I draw a deep breath and stand. “It’s not the searing. I don’t know if it’s love yet, but it’s well on its way to becoming that.”
“Wait,” he says, frowning at the robe in my hand. “You didn’t finish.”
I wave that away. “Like I told you. This was for your dragon, not me.”
His golden brows come down hard as he launches to his feet. “What? So, that meant nothing? I don’t want your slecking pity, Creed. Screw you.”
Before I can argue, his right cross snaps my head back as blood bursts from my nose. I stagger over to the sink and run the cold water, grabbing a cloth. “Fucking, hot-headed dragon.”
“You deserved that,” he growls. “How dare you come in here if it didn’t mean anything to you. That’s low. That’s really slecking low.”
I rinse the blood from my face, get into my robe, and press the cold cloth over my nose. “No, you idiot. What’s low is sucker-punching your mate before he has a chance to answer your fucking question. Dammit. You’re such a jerk.”
“So, it did mean something? Shit, Creed. I’m sorry.”
I roll my eyes and head for the door. “You’re an emotional yo-yo, dragon. Get a fucking grip or you’re going to get us all killed.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Doc
The door to Rhylan’s suite opens and Creed exits in a rush. “How’d that go—oh, shit.” I scowl at the blood staining his face and hands and usher him across the hall, straight through the suite, and into the bathroom.
Keyla’s still sleeping, so we’re quiet as we pass through the bedroom and close the door.
Grabbing a facecloth, I run it under the faucet and set to work doctoring my mate. “So, I take it, he didn’t welcome your advances?”
Creed grunts. “The sex went fine. He was mad when I got up to leave. He didn’t like the fact that I was there to level out his dragon and not for some heart-felt mating moment.”
There’s so much anger in Creed’s scent I can’t tell if that’s because he’s been clocked in the face, because of the mating, or because Rhylan got it wrong and maybe there was heart-felt mating in their moment and the dragon missed it.
“It’s broken and you’re going to have one helluva black eye.”
“Fuck me. I can’t go around looking like I’m a royal punching bag. Laryssa will investigate how it happened and then Rhylan will be in more trouble than he is already.”
I chuckle. “You’re worried about him, so I take it you haven’t given up on him.”
The annoyance in his gaze tugs at my heart. “I wish I could. Life would’ve been much easier if there wasn’t something between us. I tried to quit him more than once. He just has this way of getting under my skin.”
“Hey, no judgment. You love who you love.” I rinse the cloth and the water runs pink in the basin of the sink. “I’m a great doctor, but even I can’t erase this mess, so it never happened. Calli can, though.”
Drying my hands on my jeans, I reach under the counter and grab the bag I packed when I came here three days ago. Unzipping the side pocket, I pull out a small, glass vial. “We all carry phoenix tears now in case we’re separated and hurt. A few drops will fix you up.”
I sit him on the edge of the jet tub and unscrew the cap of the vial. Calli’s tears look like water but in direct light, they sparkle with the healing magic they hold.
Creed closes his eyes while I cover the area and spread the moisture with my finger. “I’m sorry, Bear. It seems a shame to waste such a powerful cure-all on a broken nose.”
“Yeah, well, like you said. It doesn’t do us any good if our hot-headed dragon mate gets called into the principal’s office.”
I finish administering the tears, zip the vial back into my bag, and go back to the sink. “Not to be indelicate, but the sexing went okay? His dragon is appeased?”
“His dragon is fine. The man is the problem.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, we wildlings can be stubborn and a little broody.”
Creed rolls his eyes and winces. “And I’m mated to three of you.”
I grin and point to the shower. “You smell like dragon sex. Clean up and I’ll check in with Hawk. Maybe he and Lukas have a plan on how to find your sister and the blood witch.”
“Thanks, Bear.”
I hold up my fist and he bumps my knuckles. “I got you. I mean that. We’re in this for the long haul.”
Leaving our prince to pull himself together, I head out of the suite and into the corridor. Drawing a deep breath, I curse at the lingering scent of a Creed and Rhylan hook up in the air.
If it’s out here… changing course, I knock on Rhylan’s doo
r as I let myself in.
The dragon looks up from where he’s kicked back on his bed with a bottle of booze. His hair is wet and brushed back over his head. With a clear view of his face and eyes, I’m stunned.
The guy could pass as a Norse god. And, hello, he’s a piercing boy.
He’s also hitting the liquid sedation hard. “Fuck, dragon. Now is not the time.”
He tilts his head to the side and scowls at the door. “I’m not sure how things are done in your realm, Bear, but in the Fae Realm, a closed door means something.”
“I came because the corridor still holds an ode to your sexcapade and I wanted to check out things in here. Which is much worse, by the way.”
He shrugs. “What does it matter? I’m ruined ten different ways. I might as well accept it.”
My bear lets off a long rumble. “Your tenacity is underwhelming.”
I follow the scent of sex and smile as it leads me into the bathroom. Awesome. If they’d been in the main room on the bed, I’d have the air and sheets and a dozen other things to deal with.
Score!
Flicking on the switch for the fan, I start clearing the air. I lift my nose and draw a deep breath.
The cum spilled out on the floor mat is the biggest problem. Scooping that up, I take it to the sink and open the faucet.
“Doctor, soldier, and you moonlight as a chambermaid,” Rhylan says, tipping back the bottle. “Triple threat.”
I squeeze a glob of soap into the mat and meet his gaze in the mirror. “I’ve healed Creed’s face and have him showering and cleaning up. Right now, you are the weakest link. Now, get your naked ass into that erotic carwash of a shower and get buffing.”
His blond brow arches. “I’m alpha, you’re beta. If we’re mates, you need to get that hierarchy straight.”
“I’m not sure how things are done in your realm, Dragon,” I say, throwing his words back at him, “but in the Human Realm, beta doesn’t mean I’m a weak pushover. It means I’m not driven with the aggression and testosterone to always be the asshole in charge. My strength and intelligence work just fine.”
Pulling the plug on the sink drains the water and I wring out the mat. After hanging it over the inside of the tub, I draw another long pull of the air.