Madfall: A Duo of Dragon Shifter Novellas

by Grace Draven

  Magnus held her, savoring the feel of her in his arms, the knowledge that she turned to him for comfort. His thoughts still reeled with her revelations, the terrible repercussions of her actions and the reasons for them. When she told him of using one of the arcane and deadly spells to help her voice, he thought he’d burst into flame. Terror warred with fury as he considered her imprudence, and he thought the silvered choker might well be an ornament of protection instead of punishment. Certainly protection against herself.

  “Leida,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head, “I will bind you to one of my cavern walls with a length of iron chain if I ever suspect you’ll try something so foolish again.” He felt her hiccup against his chest.

  “Allay your fears, Magnus,” she said into his shirt. “It was a hard lesson well learned.”

  Magnus leaned away from her in order to see her face. It was tear-stained, blotched in spots, and her eyes were puffy. She had never looked more beautiful to him. “You destroyed your voice in a failed attempt to gain my approval, and possibly my loyalty. You ran from me because you thought I’d replaced you with another favorite.”

  Leida reddened, lowering her eyes. “Yes.”

  “You truly do have a very poor regard for me.”

  Her head snapped up. “That isn’t true!” she cried.

  He smiled at her protest. “Such extraordinary measures to attain what already belonged to you.” She gasped. “Do you remember when I said you took from me that which I held most precious?” He felt her tremble.

  “Yes, and I’m sorry, Magnus. Had I known the ring meant so much, I would have chosen something else. I just wanted a keepsake.”

  He placed a finger against her lips to stop her nervous explanations. “I wasn’t speaking of the ring, Leida.” Her eyes widened as his meaning became clear. Magnus cupped her face in his hands. “Sivatte’s loveliness will remain long after you and I are both brittle bones in the earth’s embrace. Hers is a near immortal race.” His thumbs glided across her cheekbones, tracing the fine lines appearing at the corner of her eyes, marks of years passed, years spent with him. “But she pales in comparison to my favorite, a woman with the night in her hair and the moon in her eyes.” Her fingers dug into his back. “Even when you are gray and lined, I will still think you the most beautiful woman ever born.”

  Her moan whispered into his mouth as he captured her lips in a kiss, one gentle and long as he made love to her mouth. The sky had lightened even more, a hint of the dawn hovering on the horizon, but neither he nor Leida noticed. Magnus’s fingers worked at her bodice, unlacing her with impressive speed. Their shoes and clothes soon lay in a heap at their feet, and he stepped back to admire her, note the changes in her tall frame since he’d last seen her in her full naked glory.

  Pale and long-limbed, her body had filled out. She was still slim, but the reedy, girlish thinness was gone. Instead, her waist curved and flowed into rounded hips, and he could see the silvery track of thin scars lacing her lower abdomen, just above the triangle of dark curls. Leida stood silent as he continued to gaze at her. He was eager to bury his face between those full white breasts once more.

  “Childbearing agrees with you, Leida.”

  She gave him a small smile, both bashful and beckoning and returned his stare. Magnus held still as her gaze passed over him, pausing at his chest and arms, his flat belly, and the blatant proof of his desire for her. “You are beautiful as a man, Magnus,” she whispered. “Almost as beautiful as when you are dragon.”

  She could not have extolled his physical virtues in a better, more sensitive way, and he reached for her, sighing audibly with pleasure when she pressed against him from shoulder to shin. Leida echoed his sigh, winding her arms around his neck and trailing small kisses along the top of his shoulder, over his collarbones and around his throat. They sank to the blankets, a tangle of arms and legs as they rolled together. The occasional slide of her damp curls against the base of his cock tempted Magnus to pull her leg across his hip and take her as swiftly as he had at the stream bank. It would be just as good, just as frenzied, but he restrained the urge, wanting to relish this encounter, enjoy her in every way denied to him for the past four years.

  He rolled Leida to her back, stretching her arms above her head. The position highlighted the line of her belly, the curve of her breasts and the dark pink nipples stiff with arousal. Magnus crouched above her and lowered his head, sucking one nipple into his mouth while worrying the other with his fingers. Leida’s moans echoed in his ears, soft wordless pleas that drifted into even softer hums as she held his head in her hands and pressed him closer.

  He switched to the other breast, groaning against her skin as she lowered her arms to stroke his chest, her fingers pausing at his own sensitized nipples and pinching gently. He almost came in that moment, a powerful surge of sensation flooding his thighs, coursing through his stiff cock. She whimpered in protest when he abandoned her breasts in favor of her belly. The whimpers quickly changed to sighs as Magnus ran his tongue in a long damp line down her middle, pausing to dip into her navel before gliding over the gentle curve of soft, scarred skin just above her womanhood.

  Magnus shifted his arms to find a more comfortable position in which to pleasure her. The movement caused his hand to brush the wine flask lying forgotten on the ground near the blankets. He paused, eyeing it for a moment before raising his head to leer at Leida.

  Her brows rose in puzzlement. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and reached for the flask, sitting up between her spread thighs. He wiggled his own brows at her, making her giggle. The wine was sweet on his tongue, neither too cold nor too warm. Magnus swallowed the first sip and offered the flask to Leida. She shook her head in refusal.

  “What mischief are you planning, Magnus?” Her hands continued to rove over him, sliding across his thighs and belly. He stopped her hand as it reached for his cock.

  “Not yet, my beauty. I cannot think when you stroke me.”

  She pouted. “And that is a bad thing?”

  “No,” he murmured, leaning down to place a kiss on her belly. “It is never a bad thing to feel your hands on me. But it is distracting, and I want to indulge in that bit of mischief you speak of.”

  Magnus tipped the flask again, filling his mouth with the wine. But this time he didn’t swallow. Instead, he held it in his mouth and stretched out on his belly between her legs, his shoulders at her thighs and his face hovering just above her thighs.

  “Oh my,” she whispered on a breathless sigh.

  The wine, warmed in his mouth, trickled between his lips, dripping in a thin stream onto her thighs. He followed its path, nuzzling his face into the soft brown curls, wet with wine and her own passions. Leida’s knees fell farther apart even as her fingers furrowed into his hair, pressing on his head to coax him closer. Magnus acquiesced, spurred on as much by her scent, musky and sweet, as by the continuous low moans now emanating from her throat.

  He cupped his hands around her, using his thumbs to part the swollen folds and reveal the bead of sensitive pink flesh to his gaze. His breath left him in a long exhalation, his mouth watering at the sight.

  Leida’s hands grew more frantic, tugging at his hair hard enough to cause a twinge of pain. “Oh, gods, Magnus, please.”

  Magnus smiled, gliding his tongue along the inside of her thigh to

  lap up a trickle of wine. “Please what, Leida?” he teased. It was a ritual between them, played out years earlier when he would make her say exactly what she wanted of him. As before, her breathless commands sent fire racing through his veins, and his engorged cock throbbed in response.

  “Put your tongue inside of me. Please. Gods, I need this.” She arched against his hands, a physical plea to accompany her words.

  He didn’t have to be told twice. Her deep-throated groan held equal measures of lust and relief as he fastened his mouth over the small pearl in which so much sensation centered. She tasted of heaven and ocean, e
ven better than he remembered, and he wondered how he’d ever found the control to wait an entire day before indulging himself in this way.

  Magnus sucked slowly on her, sometimes pausing to swirl his tongue along the inner folds and slide inward to tease her slick opening. Leida slowly stilled in his embrace, her moans turning to soft mewing sounds even as her muscles stiffened. She skirted along the edge of a climax, her hips rocking on the blankets in an ever increasing pace. He knew the signs, knew her body so well. He moved back to the curved bit of flesh, sucking softly once more as his hands slid up to cup her breasts. Her small nipples, already hard, stiffened even more beneath the subtle play of his fingertips.

  It was the touch to send her over the edge, and Leida nearly slammed his nose with the sudden upward surge of her hips. Magnus flexed his shoulders to hold her pelvis down as she bucked and cried out, thrusting against his mouth. She was liquid heat, and he wanted to feel it surround him, soak it into his body. He lapped one last time at her before changing position, rising up and sitting back.

  From his new vantage point, he had a full view of her, the white skin, flushed and shiny with perspiration, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she sucked in great gulps of air. Leida’s eyes glistened in the fading shadows as she stretched out a hand, fingertips brushing across the head of his cock. Magnus shuddered and leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of her head.

  She smiled, her hand closing more firmly over him even as her legs slid over his hips and around his waist. She guided him to her, and he watched as the swollen head of his cock disappeared into the nest of curls. Slick, tight muscle gripped him as he sank into her, and Magnus groaned with the pleasure of it. He pulled out of her slowly, almost to the tip, fascinated by the sight of his shaft, rosy and shiny with wetness.

  Leida’s legs tightened around him, her heels digging into the small of his back to urge him forward. He needed no more coaxing. Her small, rhythmic moans, timed to the pumping motion of his hips were the sweetest music to his ears. He licked her throat, the soft hollow just below the imprisoning choker. Her hands clutched his arms as she met each thrust, took him deep.

  His thighs were slippery against hers, his bollocks slick with her spending as they rubbed against the curve of her buttocks. He fucked her hard, stroking in and out in a driving motion that pushed her up the twisted blankets. His mouth found hers, his tongue sweeping in to mimic the motion of his hips.

  She gripped him, sheathed him, muscles tightening on his cock until he groaned in her mouth. A hot tingle spread across his lower back, traveled over his buttocks and thighs before finally centering at his groin. It grew, fanning out to the rest of his body, and he heaved against her, desperate to get as far inside as possible, sink into her, body and soul. Two hard pulses and his back arched, his deep cries echoing through the trees as he thrust once more, his cock throbbing with an almost unbearable ache as he came inside Leida in a thick pulse of heat.

  Massive shivers wracked his body as he collapsed on to her, and it took some effort to find the energy and roll to his side so as not to crush her. He pulled Leida’s hips snugly against his so as to stay buried within her. His vision swam for a moment before focusing on her face, still pink from her exertions. He imagined he looked much the same.

  She watched him with a sated, sleepy expression, her gray eyes almost glowing in the light put out by the dying fire. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” she said, a smile in her voice. One hand tickled his nape as the other lazily caressed his side and hip.

  Magnus rubbed his palm over her rounded backside, pulling her closer still as he softened within her, rivulets of his seed streaming out of her to soak both their thighs. He kissed her, tugging gently at her lower lip. “Remember, we will travel mostly at night.” Another kiss, this one a little longer, a little more forceful. "There will be little walking. You will ride me when I am dragon…” he paused to swirl his tongue through her mouth, “and again when I am a man.” Her laugh, sultry and knowing, transformed to a small, welcoming whimper as he clamped his mouth over hers, pressing his lips to hers and sucking on her tongue.

  Soon, he thought, soon he’d take her again, when the darts of sensation that set his legs to quivering subsided, and he could pull himself away from the seductive lure of her mouth. He reveled in the feel of her fingers in his hair, the way she touched him with reverent, loving hands, as if she worshiped the feel of him beneath her palms.

  Magnus wrapped his legs around her, suppressing the urge to hold her tighter and risk injuring her with his need to bind her to him in any fashion. It would take more than a crushing embrace. He thought of the child, her daughter, and felt his stomach tighten with the pain of jealousy, regret, and envy. He pushed it down, suppressed it for the moment. It served no purpose, but the child might.

  He and his brethren were shrewd, cunning creatures, always looking for that which might benefit them most and further their aspirations and desires. Leida was his desire, his obsession, his need. And if her actions just now were any indication, she loved him as much as he loved her. The trick now was to convince her to stay with him beyond the four years of her sentence, assure her that he had no intention of ever replacing her, despite the ruin of her voice or the daughter he couldn’t claim as his.

  Morning was full upon them when fatigue finally took hold. Magnus was almost asleep when Leida’s slow breathing suddenly changed, alerting him. His eyes snapped open as she stiffened in his arms, and he lowered his head to stare at her, questioning.

  He grew suspicious at the sight of her gnawing on her lower lip, even as her fingers traced circles over his collarbones. Alarm grew at the timidity in her voice.

  “I have something else to tell you,” she said, clearing her voice twice before continuing. “And I’m afraid you will be angry again.”

  Chapter Six

  “MY DAUGHTER?” Magnus roared. He towered over her, naked and enraged. “Vala is my daughter?”

  Leida clutched one of the blankets to her, urging him to lower his voice with a frantic motion of her hands. She yelped as he jerked her up from where she knelt on the remaining blanket.

  His green eyes burned with rage, pain, and disbelief. “You bore my daughter and never said a word!” His fingers dug into her upper arms until she flinched, and he pushed her away from him. “How long were you planning to keep such news to yourself, Leida? Another day? When we finally reached the village, and you presented her to me?”

  She held out a supplicating hand, unsure how to respond. His anger was justified, but she had held back Vala’s parentage from him, not out of spite, but out of fear. “I was afraid!”

  Magnus scorched her with a fiery stare. “Afraid of what? You keep speaking of this fear of me, yet I’ve done nothing to earn it. And how could you ever think I’d hurt my own child?” He bared his teeth, and Leida blanched, thankful he was still in human form, for as a dragon such a gesture would have been truly terrifying. Clothes flew as he hurled her skirts at her, and she dodged to miss being struck by her worn shoes.

  Leida held her garments, watching as Magnus tore through his pack, pulling out a fresh change of clothing. “Lying, deceitful bitch,” he snarled. “You kept my daughter from me because of some fear you can’t even name?” His hand closed around her wrist, and he dragged her stumbling after him.

  She gasped, struggling to hold on to her bundle of clothing and still keep the blanket around her with one hand. “Where are we going?” she asked, trying to plant her feet and hold her ground. It was futile. Magnus was far stronger than most men. Her resistance was no more effective against him than a gnat’s.

  “The lake. I’m in desperate need of a bath.” He glared at her over his shoulder, his message clear. He wanted her scent off him, and his off her.

  That look, of sneering superiority, made her temper rise to match his. She couldn’t break free of his grip, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. His surprised grunt let her know she’d accomplished
her task when she abruptly sat down. The dewy grass was cold and wet on her bare buttocks, but Leida clenched her teeth, refusing to let him see her discomfort.

  “Get up, Leida,” he snapped, tugging on her arm.

  “No. Not until you let me explain. I know you’re angry, but if you’ll just—” Her sentence ended on a screech as he suddenly dropped his bundle of clothes, bent and heaved her over his shoulder. The move drove the breath out of her as his hard shoulder dug into her stomach.

  The stinging slap across her bottom elicited only a breathless wheeze. She pounded on his back with her fists, and he adjusted her so that she could breathe again. There was time only to take in a huge gulp of air before she found herself flying through the air. A kaleidoscope of color flashed in her vision, the green of the willows, the brightening blue of the morning sky, before a shock of stinging cold water met her back and swiftly closed over her head.

  Magnus’s expression was smug with vengeance when she resurfaced, wiping water from her eyes and coughing and sputtering. Leida raked her hand over the surface of the water, sending a spray at him. “Bastard!” she yelled. “Are you trying to drown me?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he shouted back and dove beneath the surface, coming up briefly before diving again, only to reappear in front of her. He circled her in a lazy, predatory fashion, reminding her none too comfortably of the great sea sharks of which she’d heard gruesome tales.

  She stood in shoulder-deep water, her teeth chattering hard enough to make her head ache. Magnus’s dark hair was slicked back from his face, highlighting its sharp planes and angles. He seemed completely unaffected by the frigid water, not even a single chill to be seen on him, while she stood there, shivering and nearly blue with cold.

  His green eyes no longer burned as he stared at her. Instead, they glittered with contempt. “Now,” he said an even voice devoid of any emotion, “I’m ready to listen.”