by Zoe Chant
“Liev!” she gasped out, not sure how much more she could take. Trails of fire burned through her, centering between her legs. She could feel her nails digging into the hard muscle of his shoulder, but she felt powerless to release him as he pushed her closer and closer to the brink.
His mouth left her nipple, trailing down slowly across her ribs and stomach. Darklis closed her eyes, breathing heavily as she realized what he intended to do. His hands, strong and broad, spread her thighs.
Darklis squealed, writhing against him at the first touch of his tongue against her. He traced her dripping folds, seeking out every part of her, finding the core of her pleasure. She sobbed as unbearable pleasure swelled within her, rising up like a tidal wave.
“Oh God, Liev, please,” she cried out, arching so high that her shoulder blades lifted from the fur beneath her. But he was merciless, drawing out her pleasure until it reached heights she had never even dreamed of, his tongue plundering her without pause. She felt his touch through every nerve in her body, spreading like wildfire.
“Please, Liev,” she said again, unsure how much more she could take. She strained after release, her body trembling – until finally his tongue slid against her clit once more, releasing her at last, sending her climax racing through her.
Darklis cried out, fists clenched in the furs, as pure ecstasy burned through her, leaving nothing in its wake but utter bliss.
She wasn’t sure how long it took for her to come back to herself, but when she did, she found herself sweaty and breathless, cradled in Liev’s arms, her head resting against his bicep.
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered, unable to do much else. In response, Liev simply kissed her, leaving her breathless once more. She could feel his cock still hot and hard against her hip.
Mmm, we’ll have to do something about that, she sent to him as he kissed her, and felt a flare of desire run through him in response.
“Will we now,” he said when they finally broke apart, a glint in his eyes.
“Very definitely,” Darklis said, though she’d barely caught her breath again from her climax. Despite the fact it had been more satisfying than she knew how to describe, she still wanted more – more of Liev, more of everything he had to give her. She wanted to feel them joined together, for the first time as husband and wife – for the first time since he had crowned her, and made her his.
She could barely stand to wait as Liev moved over her once more, his thighs sliding easily between hers. It was as if they had been made for each other – and in a way, she supposed they had been.
She almost cried out again at the first touch of the hot head of his cock against her. She was so wet, so ready for him that he slid into her easily, and they gasped together as he slowly sheathed himself deep within her. Pleasure thrummed through her body as she felt every inch of him inside her, filling her up and stretching her so perfectly open. Darklis’s mind grew hazy, unable to think of anything but Liev as he made his first movement within her, thrusting his hips, and burying himself within her.
She could not tell where she ended and he began as his movements sped up, his hips snapping forward. They were joined completely – mind and body and soul.
You are my mate, Darklis, Liev sent to her, his mind touching hers as completely as his body did. Forever and always, you will be mine, and I will be yours...
Darklis felt awash in her own pleasure. She could feel his body moving above hers, quaking as his pleasure built, his movements growing faster and more desperate with every passing second.
Encouraging him, she squeezed her walls around him. He cried out in response, but his rhythm never faltered, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of her pleasure. His mouth found hers and his tongue slipped inside, plundering her further still.
At last, Darklis cried out as her climax burst over her body, shaking her down to her core, whiting out her vision and leaving her utterly breathless. Her body quaked with ecstasy as a moment later Liev followed her over the brink, letting out a throaty cry. He thrust into her one more strong, final, perfect time, his muscles straining, emptying himself within her.
Exhausted, Darklis felt him lower himself down next to her. Barely able to move, she nonetheless rolled slightly onto her side, tucking herself against him, her back against his chest, his arms coming around to hold her close against him.
It was a long time before either of them could speak again – but the first thing Darklis became aware of when at last she came back to herself was Liev’s breath against the nape of her neck, and the golden circlet, pressing warmly against her forehead.
Crowned and claimed. Her dragon’s voice was a self-satisfied purr. We truly are joined now. And no one will ever tear us apart.
Darklis could only smile softly. She knew it was true. Liev was hers, and she was his.
“I hope no one is expecting us anywhere tomorrow,” she said eventually, her voice thick with sleepiness. It had been a long day, after all. And while she had hoped to make this a long night, too... well, they had the rest of their lives for that now.
Liev’s laugh was a puff of warm breath on the back of her neck. “Not if they know what’s good for them. I’m not planning on emerging from here for at least a week.”
Warmth coiled in Darklis’s belly. “Now that sounds like a plan,” she said, smiling. “If you’re certain you can neglect your princely duties for that long.”
Liev raised himself up on his elbow, before lowering his head to kiss her, slow and deep.
“The only princely duty that I’m concerned with right now is the pleasure of my princess,” he said when he pulled back. “And it’s a duty that I intend to perform most thoroughly, and as often as possible.”
Darklis couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst from her lips. Raising her head, she caught Liev’s mouth in another kiss.
“Well, I suppose now that I’m a princess I’ll have my own duties to see to as well,” she said, smiling up at him.
“I’m sure you will,” Liev replied, laughing. “I look forward to finding out just what those duties entail.”
“Impatience is most unbecoming in a prince,” she said, the gleam in her eye growing mischievous.
“It’s a flaw I have to admit I’m not in a hurry to work on,” Liev retorted, raising an eyebrow.
“Well. Perhaps we’ll have to do something about that,” Darklis said, a moment before a yawn opened her mouth wide. “But maybe... later.”
“Yes, later,” Liev agreed. “Now, perhaps, it’s time for sleep. We will have plenty of time for everything else. Later.”
“Mmm.” Darklis could already feel herself drifting toward sleep. She had never felt so relaxed in all her life. Her muscles felt suffused with warmth from head to toe – as if the golden circlet Liev had placed upon her head was filling her up with a golden glow.
And maybe it is, Darklis thought sleepily, as she rested her head on Liev’s chest. Who knows how these things work. Maybe I’ll find something about it in the library one of these days... oh! And that reminds me, I’ve been meaning to look up...
The thought was cut off by a wide yawn.
She was safe. She was loved. She was home.
Snuggling down into the furs in front of the fire, the arms of her mate wrapped around her, Darklis drifted into a blissful sleep, a smile on her face.
Bound to the Dragon
Lost Dragons #5
By Zoe Chant
Copyright Zoe Chant 2019
All Rights Reserved
Foreword
This is a standalone romance, and you don’t need to have read the previous book to enjoy it; however, the character of Dante first appeared in the book A Bride for the Dragon. Darklis, along with her brother Stefan and his mate Holly, first appeared in A Mate for the Dragon. Likewise, Magnus first appeared in Fated for the Dragon, while his mate Alanna first appeared in Destined for the Dragon. To avoid some small spoilers about the events of those books, please consider reading them first!
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Chapter One
Dante
The streets here were dark, which suited Dante just fine.
He’d come to this little town the day before, following up on a rumor he’d heard that shopkeepers here were being terrorized by a gang demanding money in return for ‘protection’, and that the local cops were refusing to lift a finger about it.
That was what he did these days – he didn’t have a home, so he traveled from place to place, looking for trouble. But unlike when he’d been young, now, he wasn’t looking to cause more.
Now, he was trying to fix it.
Some people probably would have called it a penance, and in some ways, Dante thought they might have been right. He wasn’t sure any of the things he’d been doing went any way toward making up for the bad things he’d done in his youth, but he knew he couldn’t do anything else, either.
Nothing would undo the crimes he’d committed, or unhurt the people he’d hurt. Telling himself he’d had no choice didn’t work either. Sure, he’d been a child – a baby, really – when the criminal syndicate had found him and taken him in, but after a while, that just sounded like an excuse.
It had been the only life he’d ever known. Not to mention, the boss of the criminal gang he’d been taken in by had been a manticore. With the head and body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, and massive, leathery wings, manticores were some of the deadliest mythical shifters out there, and Dante had been told on several occasions that they’d track him down and punish him if he ever dared to escape.
He hadn’t been under any illusions that the manticores had taken him in because they actually cared for him – it had been purely because they’d known what he was: a dragon.
Manticores and dragons had been enemies for centuries, but the idea of a dragon of their very own to raise had been too much of a temptation. Dante had never known how he’d come to be abandoned, and he still didn’t know the full story – but what he did know now was that he’d been wanted.
His parents had abandoned him only because they’d had no other choice. If they hadn’t, he would have been killed, just like they had been.
Dante closed his eyes, shaking his head. He pushed the painful thoughts from his mind. He was here to do a job, not to dwell on things he couldn’t change, on memories he’d never have – memories of growing up with a mother and father, with a loving clan all around him.
You could have that now, though. They said they’d take you back. Even after all you’ve done, your clan said you could go back with them, and live your life as a dragon.
Swallowing, Dante opened his eyes once more. The tiny voice of temptation was always there, whispering that his family, his clan, the Novaks, had told him he would always be welcome with them.
But he couldn’t do that. He didn’t deserve it. He’d hurt them. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to, but he had. How could he look them – any of them – in the eye, after what he’d done?
No. He wouldn’t go back there until he’d earned it – until he’d done at least something to help people, to show that he had kindness in his heart, as well as darkness.
But that just left the question – how much was enough? How many people would he have to help until he felt his soul was washed clean of all the harm he’d caused? And was such a thing even possible in the first place?
God, I need a cigarette.
He’d quit smoking, but he still missed it desperately. As a dragon, he shouldn’t even have been able to get addicted, but the manticores had deliberately kept him in his human form for long periods of time, only allowing him to shift when they’d needed him to – often enough that his superhuman strength, fast healing, and telepathic powers hadn’t faded permanently, so he’d still been a useful tool for them to use.
But it had only been when he’d been at his weakest, when he’d been trembling and sweating, his dragon roaring within him to be free, that the manticores had allowed him to shift, letting him touch the part of the Novak hoard his parents had left with him: the small golden amulet he’d been found with, wrapped up with him in his soft blue blanket.
At the touch of the gold against his skin, Dante would always feel the dragon’s power surge through him once more, and he’d be free. Free to spread his wings and soar through the air, to feel fire building in his belly, to be the creature he had been born to be – as long as he always returned to the manticores in the end.
And the long periods stuck in human form had left him with some permanent reminders of his past. There was a scar on his shoulder that just wouldn’t heal, after he’d been stabbed during a deal gone wrong. There were various other marks on his body, too – a burn on his arm, a scar on his side from where he’d been clipped by a bullet, and his knuckles were a mess. They were all injuries he should have healed easily from. But allowed only limited contact with his hoard item, his powers weak, they’d stayed with him, leaving their mark on his body.
Maybe that was only right, Dante thought. He couldn’t hide what he’d been, what he’d done. As soon as someone saw his scars, they’d know – even if not the details, they’d know that someone with these kinds of injuries couldn’t have led a decent life on the right side of the law.
No amount of trying to live his life well would fix up the marks on his body.
But I have to keep trying.
There was no doubt in his mind about that. He’d never get rid of his scars – but maybe, one day, he’d get rid of the heavy feeling in his heart, and on that day, he could return to his clan, and feel as if he was worthy to look them in the eye once more.
The only working streetlight flickered as he emerged from the alleyway he’d been surveying the street from. It was the main drag – not that that meant much in a town as small as this one, but still, it was clear that without this small collection of shops, restaurants, and arcades there wouldn’t be much to do here.
It didn’t make a lot of sense to Dante that a criminal gang would target such a small town – it wasn’t like a lot of money would pass through here. But that was the information he had, and he couldn’t ignore it. Maybe it’d come to nothing, but at least he’d know he’d checked it out.
Most of the shops were dark, their front windows shuttered. Graffiti had been scrawled across most of them – not the kind of colorful street art that Dante could appreciate, but ugly black tags, crude pictures of dicks, and a bunch of squiggles. Only one shop, a restaurant with a sign reading ‘MERCY’S KITCHEN’ on its front, seemed to have tried to do anything about washing off the spray paint.
Dante paused, looking up at the sign. Mercy’s Kitchen was a good name, he thought – somehow, it sounded welcoming, like visitors would be treated kindly no matter who they were. The place was obviously closed now – the shutters were down, even though he could see through a side window that the lights inside were still on – but Dante thought he’d definitely have to grab a meal there while he was in town, and see if the place – or its owner – was as openhearted as it seemed.
That was a nice thought: that even in a place like this, there was at least one person who could be counted on.
Dante began to turn away, thinking he’d go check out some of the residential streets. It was always a good idea to know your way around a new place – if nothing else, his life of crime had taught him that. It’d taken him a while to realize that some of the skills he’d learned could be put to better use. Even if he couldn’t exactly say he was grateful for them, he could at least recognize where they stood him in good stead in his new occupation.
And maybe walking would take his mind off how much he wanted a damn cigarette.
Slipping back into the darkness of the street, Dante was about to move away through the shadows when something – the softest of sounds – made its way to his hearing.
He paused, cocking his head. It might have been nothing. But then his dragon raised its head, claws extending, eyes flashing.
Someone’s there. Someone I don’t like.
Dante was still
getting used to trusting his dragon’s instincts on these things. He’d spent so long having only limited contact with it that it seemed weird to think it was a part of him – that the dragon was him. Its instincts were his instincts. And right now, its instincts were telling him to slide into the shadow of the alleyway and watch.
He did just that. He’d lost track of the amount of hours he’d spent loitering in alleys, watching for cops, rival gangs, or anyone else he didn’t like the look of. Again, he couldn’t exactly say he was happy about having these skills – but he couldn’t deny they were useful.
A moment later, and his dragon’s instincts flashed another warning. Someone’s coming.
Dante waited. His suspicions proved to be true.
A man appeared at the end of the alley, stooping his head slightly as he lit a cigarette, his face lit up from below by the orange flame of the lighter. It would have made anyone look sinister, but Dante could see this guy’s face was made to intimidate – a bulbous nose that had clearly been broken several times, a cruel, twisted mouth, and small, dark eyes beneath two bushy, scowling eyebrows. His build was massive, too – heavyset shoulders and big hands, and a deceptive gut that Dante knew just by the way he moved was covering a layer of powerful muscle.
Typical heavies. All the same.
He’d seen a hundred similar guys during his time.
But just because he looked scary didn’t mean that this particular guy was up to no good, Dante reminded himself. His early life had conditioned him to expect the worst of people – mainly because they’d usually given him a reason to. But average guys on the street... that was a different matter. He might just be out for a late-night stroll.
The man stood alone, smoking quietly, until Dante had almost made up his mind to simply slip away. But there was some kind of intuition holding him in place, something that told him that things weren’t right here.