About a Dragon

by G. A. Aiken

  “You obnoxious, son of a—”

  “I grow tired of this. Come…” he motioned to his lap and steadily growing erection, “…ride me.”

  “No.” She sat up on her knees, facing him. “We’re not done.”

  The sigh was loud and filled the room. “What is there to discuss?”

  “You made the choice for me.” He opened his mouth to speak and she held her hand up to silence him. “I know it was out of your control at the time, but I want to make sure we get this clear now. If I stay with you—”

  “If?”

  She ignored his roar of disbelief. “If I stay with you, that will not happen again. No one makes decisions for me anymore, but me. We can discuss and work together as a team, but I will accept nothing less. If that is a problem for you, Briec the Arrogant, then we best find that out now.”

  She waited for his answer, but he stared up at the ceiling.

  “Well?” she pushed.

  He looked at her. “Oh, were you speaking?”

  “Briec!” She punched his shoulder.

  Laughing he grabbed her around the waist, forcing her onto her back. He brought his body over hers, pinning her with his weight while gazing down into her face. “Do you really think I want some docile, brainless weakling for a mate? I’ll leave those for the human males.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this three, four hundred years from now.”

  He scowled and she knew two moons ago she would have run screaming from that look. Now, however, she felt nothing but lust. “Are you going to argue everything with me?” he snarled.

  “Yes,” she snarled back.

  “Forever?”

  “Yes.”

  Briec’s scowl gave way to a soft smile. “Promise?”

  Talaith reached up, her hand brushing against his jaw. “Yes, Briec. I promise that I’ll spend the rest of my life arguing every point with you, regarding every issue, every moment until the end of our days.”

  “Stop, Talaith.” He kissed her until he had her moaning and giggling at the same time. “You’re driving me wild with your anger and resentment.”

  She leaned up and whispered in his ear, “Then you’ll love when I tell you to get your bloody hands off me and get the hell out of my room.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Morfyd, so busy thinking about a thousand different things now that her brother had informed her he and Annwyl planned to keep their offspring, never noticed Brastias until she slammed right into him. And even then, it took a bit.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, still distracted.

  “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  Her head snapped up at the sound of that deep, soul-invading voice. “Oh. Brastias. It’s you.”

  “Aye. It’s me.”

  “Sorry. In a bit of a rush.” She tried to pass him, but he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her back.

  “You can’t keep avoiding me, Morfyd.”

  “I’m not.” Except that she couldn’t look him in the eye. “There’s just many things going on right now. I don’t have time—”

  “Was our kiss that unpleasant?”

  “What? Uh…no.” Unpleasant wasn’t the problem. Waking up, writhing against a human male like a drugged snake was the problem.

  He took several steps, still holding onto her arm, forcing her to move back. “Interesting. If the kiss wasn’t unpleasant, then I can only surmise that something else is bothering you. Something about us.”

  She felt the cold stone wall at her back. “Look, Brastias, I—”

  “No.”

  She blinked. “No? No what?”

  “No more discussion. There’s no point, is there?”

  “You’re right,” she admitted with resignation. “There’s no point.”

  He framed either side of her face with his big hands. “That’s what I thought.” Then he kissed her. His warm mouth claiming hers. His hard body forcing her back into the wall.

  And just as Morfyd melted against him, he stopped.

  “When you’re ready, Morfyd. You know where I am.”

  Startled and aching, she watched as he pulled away, but before he got three steps from her, she grabbed his arm and dragged him back. She leaned into him and let her lips brush over his.

  “I’m sorry, Brastias. I didn’t want you to think I was a slag…or like my sister.”

  He grinned. “I could never think that. I’ve caught your sister with my knights.”

  She winced. Damn her.

  “But none of that matters.” He stepped forward, pushing her into the dark corner. His big hands caressed her face. “All that matters is you and me.”

  “There’s a you and me?”

  “There will be.” He kissed her and all those feelings she’d been denying since she woke up by the lake with him, came rushing forth. So intense, it nearly strangled her.

  Gripping him tight, Morfyd whimpered into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his hand taking hold of her breast through the thick wool of her robes. If it felt this good with clothes on, imagine how wonderful when they were completely naked.

  Seconds from dragging him to her room or his—whichever was closer at the moment—she let out a startled cry as her wrist was grabbed tight and she was yanked from Brastias.

  “Oi!” Brastias snapped, turning around and clearly ready to fight. But he stopped and stared and Morfyd looked up…into the face of Gwenvael. And, by the dark gods, he was angry. Extremely angry.

  “You. Keep your hands off my sister.”

  “Excuse me,” both she and Brastias said at the same time.

  “You heard me. Both of you. She’s not some slag, human. So keep away from her.”

  Morfyd didn’t know what to say. Gwenvael had gone drinking with Brastias on many occasions over the last three years. They’d always been good friends, it seemed. And not only that, but this was Gwenvael. To quote their own mother, “Not a pussy he hasn’t loved.”

  “Gwenvael, have you lost your mind?”

  “You’re my sister, Morfyd. Not some whore he picked up on the street…or Keita.” It suddenly struck her—Gwenvael felt protective of her. She didn’t think he felt protective of anything or anyone. Once again…this was Gwenvael!

  Her younger brother pointed a warning finger at Brastias with his free hand since he seemed bound and determined not to release his hold on her. “You just stay away from my sister. Or we truly will have problems, general.” She winced at the way he sneered that last bit.

  Gwenvael walked off, dragging Morfyd behind him. She looked back at a shocked Brastias and prayed he could read lips since she couldn’t risk Gwenvael hearing her.

  She mouthed, “Later.”

  Based on his relieved smile, he read lips just fine.

  “Stop it!” Talaith skirted around the bed, trying to keep it between her and Briec. “They’re waiting for us.”

  “They can wait. Come here.” He moved again and so did she.

  “It’s in our honor, Briec.” Annwyl insisted on throwing this feast in honor of their union. It was a sweet gesture from her friend. “We can’t miss it.”

  “Who said anything about missing it? I’m just talking about making a dramatic entrance…in an hour or two.” Again he moved, and again so did she.

  “This is ridiculous.” She stood up straight. “I’m a grown woman with a daughter nearly seventeen winters.”

  “In another six moons.”

  “And I refuse to allow myself to be chased around a bed like some untried virgin.”

  “Good.” He went for her again and Talaith squealed and ran. He caught up with her by the door and she knew if he got his hands under her dress she was doomed. But before he could get his hands anywhere, a knock at the door pulled them up short.

  “Piss off,” he barked at the door.

  “Come in,” she yelled over him.

  She batted at his hands as the door swung open. When Izzy’s smirking face came around the corner, Briec stepped away from
Talaith. “I told you to get your hands off me, woman… I’m a respectable dragon. Not some whore you picked up on the street.”

  “Briec!” She slapped his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt Briec’s mauling, Mum.”

  “Iseabail!” The two of them together were absolutely impossible.

  “But I need to talk to you about something. Something important.”

  “Of course. Come in.”

  “Do you need me to leave?”

  “Oh, no. Not at all.” Izzy shook her head at Briec’s question. “Actually, I’d like to talk to you both.” She closed the door and walked into the room.

  Briec sat on the bed and Talaith continued to stand by the door. She could see Izzy getting up her courage for this discussion, which worried Talaith more than a little bit.

  Finally, with a deep breath and after wiping her hands on her leggings, which Talaith now realized was her daughter’s nervous habit, Izzy turned and faced them. “I’m just going to say this.”

  “It’s probably best,” Talaith encouraged, working really hard not to panic.

  Her only daughter smiled. “I’ve joined Annwyl’s army.”

  “You what?”

  Briec stepped between mother and daughter before Talaith could get her hands around the girl’s throat.

  “Perhaps we should discuss this calmly.”

  “Calmly? What is there to discuss calmly?” She pushed Briec aside. “You go down there right now, Iseabail, and you tell Annwyl you made a mistake.”

  Swallowing, her daughter again shook her head. “No.”

  “What do you mean, ‘no’?” Talaith fairly growled. Had she risked everything so this little whelp could give her life on the field of battle to that insane wild woman who had recently become one of her best friends?

  “I mean, I’m old enough to make this decision. I hope to become part of Annwyl’s elite guard one day. Her squire to start if I’m lucky.” Her daughter stood straighter. “And I start training tomorrow.”

  “No you will not start training tomorrow. Tomorrow I’m sending you to a temple somewhere to become a priestess. Or something equally safe.”

  “There is nothing safe in this world. I have no Magick like you, Mum. All I have are sturdy thighs, a spine made of steel, and approximately six hundred years to fill. If you think I plan to do that bowing and scraping as an accolade, you are sadly mistaken.”

  “I will have no daughter of mine being the squire of that bloodthirsty bitch!”

  “You were just laughing and eating with her this morning.”

  “We’re not talking about me.”

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “It’s in the blood, luv. Get used to it.”

  “A year.”

  Mother and daughter looked at Briec who coolly leaned back against the bed.

  “What?” Talaith snapped, unable to stop the images of her daughter with a sword through her chest from invading her mind.

  “Give it one year. That seems fair, don’t you think, Izzy?”

  “Aye,” she replied eagerly.

  “Talaith?” He looked at her and she felt her eyes narrow. She could physically kill him from this distance.

  If she argued now, she’d seem like a right prat. And the arrogant bastard knew that. “Fine. A year than.”

  “Yes!” Iseabail hugged her mother, giving her a big, wet kiss on her cheek. Then she ran to that traitor who called himself her mate and kissed him on the forehead.

  “I have to get dressed. I hope there’s dancing tonight!”

  As soon as the door closed, Talaith turned on Briec. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because it made sense.”

  “What difference will a year make?”

  “Now that Annwyl’s decided to keep her and Fearghus’ demonspawn, she won’t be traipsing off to any battles in other territories at the very least for the next year, more likely two.”

  He had a point there…the bastard.

  “And what about after the year?”

  Briec stood. “Be realistic, Talaith. If this isn’t right for her, then she’ll know that in a year, if not sooner.”

  “And if it is right for her?”

  “Then you best let her do this.”

  “But—”

  He took her hand. “If you don’t, you’ll lose her. Just like your mother lost you. And like you, Izzy will get what she wants even if she has to find another army to join. But it won’t be Annwyl’s where they’ll treat her like the daughter of royalty she truly is.”

  Right again. Bastard. But she still had to laugh. “My family’s not royalty.”

  “No, but mine is. And she’s one of us now…as are you.”

  “Oh.”

  Briec took a step toward her. “You did know that, didn’t you?”

  Talaith took a step back. “Um, well, I hadn’t really considered it.”

  “You’ve been marked by me, Talaith. Claimed. Which means we’re mated. For life. Izzy’s my daughter. I may not be her father by blood, but she’s mine. To protect and cherish.”

  “Oh.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  He kept advancing and she kept retreating. “I simply didn’t see the full ramifications of our, uh, relationship.”

  Her back slammed into the wall and suddenly Briec’s arms were on either side of her, caging her in. “Do you see the ramifications now, princess?”

  “Uh…”

  Before she could answer another knock came on their door, and she thought for sure Briec would set the castle on fire. Instead, he yelled, “What?”

  Éibhear stuck his head in. “Where’s Izzy?”

  “She went back to her room. Why?”

  “No reason. She just has something of mine.” He grinned at them. “Carry on.”

  The door closed and Briec looked back at her. “That’s it. We’re leaving.”

  “What? Where?”

  “My den. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think that—”

  “Not forever, Talaith. But I need some time alone with you. I grow weary of my kin. Very, very weary.”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  “Good.”

  “But we can’t be gone long. I want to be here for Annwyl. I fear what she may do to others if she’s not kept calm.”

  He rolled his eyes. “If you must.”

  “And Izzy—”

  “Another reason for us to leave for a bit, don’t you think? It would be a bad idea for you to be here when she starts her training.”

  The dragon definitely had a point there. “Fine. But like I said. Not for long.”

  “Good. Now,” he leaned into her, “kiss me, woman.”

  “Briec,” she stretched his name out by whining it. “We can’t.” But his hands were already under her dress, smoothing up her legs and across her bare hips. For him, she wore nothing under her clothes while alone in their bedroom except for her dagger and sheath—which he insisted upon—and he grinned his overwhelming appreciation. Holding her thighs tight, he lifted her up and settled her legs around his waist. At some point the overeager dragon pulled his leather leggings down to his knees. She felt his cock press against her, hot, hard and pulsating. Her hands went around his neck, her forehead resting against his.

  Gasping, they stared into each other’s eyes as he slowly impaled her with his shaft. Taking her, inch by slow delicious inch. She moaned and he “shushed” her. “You don’t know who may be on the other side of that door, little witch,” he whispered, pushing more of himself inside her willing body. “Anyone could be listening.”

  His words made her shudder and hold him tighter. She bit her lip to stop from making noise, even as he slammed the last inch of his erection inside her.

  “Remember,” he growled in her ear, “you’ll need to be quiet.”

  Not likely when he pulled his hard erection out of her grasping depths, only to ram it back in. Aga
in and again and again.

  Hoarse sounds unwillingly burst from her throat, which only goaded her dragon on. As usual, he showed her body no mercy and it felt wonderful. She dug the heels of her bare feet into his lower back and her hands into his hair. Her climax crawled up her spine, moving through her body like fire. Unable to hold it back, she opened her mouth to scream but Briec was there, covering her mouth with his own. His tongue tangling with hers, groaning as she exploded over the edge and came. Briec held her tight, rocking with her and, she sensed, enjoying the way her sex gripped him tight, spasms clutching him.

  He kept on until a second, more powerful climax took hold of her and that’s when, with a loud groan of his own, Briec came. He shot hot and hard inside her, whispering her name into her neck, shaking as the climax drained his body and, for the moment at least, his strength.

  “Look what you’ve done to me, little witch.” Briec nuzzled her cheek. “You’ve weakened me.”

  She laughed. He held her as easily he would a babe. “I don’t think I weakened anything, dragon. You still seem quite strong to me.”

  Smiling, he kissed her nose and her forehead, gently lowering her to the ground. “Don’t move.” He stepped away from her, but only for a moment to get a cloth and fresh water. She held her dress up as he took his time cleaning her. Then she returned the favor. Before she knew it, he’d pinned her against the wall again.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She slid under his arm and went toward the door. “We’re not starting that again. I’m sure they’re all waiting on us.”

  She snatched the door open, only to find Gwenvael quickly pulling his ear away from where he had it against the wood. He grinned at her and she knew he’d most likely heard everything.

  “Oh,” he said, trying to act surprised. “Hello, sister. I was looking for Briec. I think we need to talk about Morfyd and Bras—ow!” He grabbed his bleeding and broken nose. “What the hell was that for?”

  Turning to face her mirror, Izzy studied herself in the dress Briec had specially made for her. She shook her head and gently pulled the left shoulder of her gown down, wincing as pain danced through her system. She stared at the still-healing dragon brand burned into the flesh of her shoulder. She really didn’t know if the dress was doing a good enough job blocking the damn thing.