Heart of the Dragon (Dragons of the Realms Book 1)

by Kym Dillon

  “Will you give it all to me this time?”

  “You know the rules on mating,” he said regretfully.

  Her hair cascaded nearly to the floor as she let her head loll back and stared at the ceiling. “Who said anything about mating?” she whispered.

  The seductive invitation sent a shiver down his spine. He stepped into the V between her legs and his hands roamed her outer thighs. She hooked her feet behind him. His palms slid over her stomach and ribs to caress her breasts, and she let out a wanton purr. He stroked her pebbled nipples in slow, patient circles. His manhood barely grazed her folds. Yet, he felt the slick wetness gathering.

  Daya inhaled through clenched teeth as he brought her flush against his length but didn’t enter. He gently rocked her further away. “Don’t tease me,” she begged.

  “I’m not. I’m afraid if I rush, I’ll succumb.”

  She moaned throatily as his mouth found hers. Her fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him in place. The languid kiss unfurled with all the promise of fireworks explosions. His body responded with swift, insistent shudders, as if it would forge ahead without his say-so. He held himself in check. His teeth nipped Daya’s lips, and she bit him back.

  His dark eyes sparked flames. As he guided himself to her entrance, he groaned deep in his chest. He ached to possess her. The throbbing centered in his pelvis and worked its way to the bone. Her wet, tight warmth fit around him like a glove and made his entire body shudder violently. Daya clutched the silk rope, and her inner muscles gripped his length with expert finesse. Elation poured through him.

  She leaned forward to press her breasts against his burning skin. Her fingers fluttered over his face, and he caught her hand and kissed the fingertips. His eyes were wild, but so were hers. She panted for him as she quickened. She smoothed her thumb over his lips and clasped his chin to drag him to her mouth. Her kisses swept down his chin to nip at his neck.

  He grunted as he nearly lost control from sheer bliss. Desire pulsed through his veins like a drug. He couldn’t stop. She felt so unbelievable. His hips rolled, pounding his shaft in deep strokes, and she met him in counter-thrust. Sweat beaded between her breasts, his tongue swirled over a nipple, and he closed his mouth. She thrashed her head and cried out while he sucked.

  The pleasure made her walls squeeze him in rhythmic pulses. He thought he would shatter. “Uhn! Daya,” he moaned. His skin shimmered, black scales along his shoulder. He tossed his head back, and they disappeared, but flames filled his eye sockets. He couldn’t let her see. He didn’t want to frighten her. He didn’t want to show her what she did to him.

  His nails raked her back as she bucked against him stronger. He clutched the back of her head and felt the silk of her hair. He buried his face in her neck. The sweat was pouring off her in rivulets now. He knew it was because his body was heating up.

  “Arken! Oh, god! What are you doing to me?”

  Her airy soprano moans were like music. She panted against his earlobe and whispered his name like a prayer—or profanity. Between her legs, she dripped sweet nectar that might as well have been baptismal. He growled in disbelief at the tautness in his core. Wound like a spring, every movement threatened to lose himself.

  Surging towards the peak in blissful agony, he hammered her inner core. He felt her yield around him as a rush of more of her silky wetness flowed from her. As the ecstasy skyrocketed, he started to shake. He gripped her thighs, nails digging into her flesh. The swing convulsed. She sheared against him. They couldn’t separate. They were a nuanced collision of erogenous zones.

  The world went red as he struggled mightily to satiate her without letting go. But, she was holding out.

  “Daya!” he shouted.

  His wings pushed from his shoulder blades and nearly filled the chamber. Arken instinctively caught a draft and rose slightly above her. She stared in wonder mixed with a touch of fear but she didn’t stop. She didn’t halt the glorious magic happening between them. His brow furrowed as he clasped her face and stared into her eyes.

  “You have to let go,” he panted.

  “Come in me,” she whispered.

  He trembled and squeezed his eyes shut. His wings beat the air, and he plunged to the hilt in surrender. The climax roared through him like molten lava. It wound through his veins and leapt to his muscles, bones and sinew. It crackled along his skin, and embers fell from his eyes like tears when he opened them.

  She gasped. He caught her mouth and kissed her scream. She quaked in release at the last minute. They orgasmed together. Then, his world went dark.

  He woke up in a tub of cool water. Daya sat in the water across from him, but she didn’t’ realize he was awake. He surreptitiously watched her making waves with her hands above the liquid. She didn’t look like someone ready to bolt from her monstrous lover. He suppressed a sigh.

  With a barely perceptible shift, he tested his shoulders to see if he had managed to regain the proper man-shape. He had. Probably while he was passed out. He opened one eye and glanced at his manhood. It felt very well used. He had been with innumerable women, but he had never in eight hundred years experienced anything like what had happened just now with Daya.

  She noticed his movement and asked lightly, “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’m in the artic.” Arken winced and sat up straighter, running a hand over his face. Involuntary shivers wracked him as the cold water lapped against his skin.

  “About that. Yeah, you, uh, heated up way hotter than you should’ve back there.”

  “The heat doesn’t affect me. Not as much as it affects you. I tried not to singe you. Are you okay?”

  “Well.” She smiled and widened her eyes briefly. “Yes and no,” she replied. “You gave me quite a bit of a scare when you hit the floor like a bag of wet cement. A heavy bag.”

  “But, not when I sprouted wings and shot sparks from my eyes,” he said wryly. She flicked water into his face, and he groaned. “Okay. I can’t. You stay on your side, I stay mine. Scoot. I have to make this warmer. Scalding, so seriously stay on your side.”

  Her expression dropped, but she did as he advised. “You’re one of those people who don’t get a boost of happy-joy endorphins after a soul-stealing orgasm. Got it.”

  “It’s not that. It’s—” He bit his lip and locked eyes with her.

  “It’s the rules,” she guessed.

  “Yes. You have to understand. I have a duty, an obligation to my kingdom to do the right thing. As much as I hate to give it to her, Vyda made some valid points in the library. What if I’m trusting you with my most prized possession, not because you’re the better option, but because I desire you?”

  Daya stood to her feet and gazed down at him. “Only you know the answer to that. And, you’re moving goalposts. Because we were talking about the sex. Not the diamond,” she said curtly.

  She climbed from the tub and stalked into his room, dripping wet. Or, not so much dripping, as drying with every wobbly step. She was really getting good at her gifts as a Maker, but her legs still operated like she’d had a pleasantly rough afternoon. Arken felt a cocky touch of arrogance, knowing her body was over-sexed and achy.

  He forced himself from the tub. “Daya,” he murmured at the door to his chamber. He found her hastily putting on his clothes, which did something funny to his pulse. He liked her in his clothes.

  She tucked her hair behind her ear and cut her eyes. “No, look, we’re cool. I’m sorry I made you do something that went against your principles.”

  “You didn’t force me. I allowed myself to lose control. Can we talk? Don’t leave like this.”

  She squinted and shook her head at him. “Maybe make up your mind. You can’t sleep with me, then tell me I’m not girlfriend material, then ask me to stay.”

  “Daya, I…” Arken approached but she retreated a step. He gave her a pleading look as he reached for her shoulders. She finally relaxed and let him touch her. He pulled her into a
hug. “I’m as confused as you. I don’t want to make you believe we can be together when we can’t; but, that doesn’t change the fact that I do want to be with you.”

  “Ugh! I’m not trying to be the whiny, needy bitch that chases after guys,” she groaned, covering her eyes. She uncovered her eyes and looked at him. “So, tell me how this works. What’s dating like for dragons? Aside from you having to save your jizz for the crème de la crème, since you’re the king and all.”

  “There’s no real courtship. Dragons are polyamorous.”

  “Ah! That explains it all. I can see how that leads to plenty of dragon ladies like Vyda—jealous and histrionic,” she deadpanned. She looked down and covered her eyes again. “Gah! Get some clothes on before we break another law or something.”

  Arken laughed as he moved to the chifforobe. “What’s it like for you?”

  “I told you. Swipe left, swipe right.”

  “I think you’re making up things.”

  “Okay. The last guy I dated was named Marco. He was in the mafia,” she narrated. “He drove a big purple car that I hated. Oh, yeah, we broke up because I stole his sapphire, and he tried to kill me.” Arken stiffened, and Daya cringed. “That totally sounds way worse than it actually was.”

  “I liked it better when I thought you were making up things,” he sighed.

  Later that evening, Arken stood in the tunnel at the foothills of the mountain. It felt like déjà vu, but he wasn’t looking for Daya. She was upstairs in his bedchamber. He was testing her theory of the broken treaty. If Feis had already broken her end of the treaty, then he should be able to walk into the woods and keep walking.

  It would free him from having to trust either of the women in the keep.

  His shoulders slumped, and he forced himself to take the first step. The grass felt springy underfoot. It was a sweltering evening, and insects buzzed in the thicket. He took another step. When his hand touched the bark of a tree, he let his fingers graze up and down the wood. He gazed into the canopy overhead.

  A bird cawed raucously and took flight. He wondered if he should’ve tried flight, but he didn’t want Daya or Vyda to see him fumbling around. He walked a little further and surveyed the forest. Nothing looked familiar, which was a good sign. He wasn’t traveling in circles yet.

  Arken gained confidence and continued walking. As he passed a bush loaded with fragrant pink flowers, he smiled and realized he hadn’t enjoyed the beauty of a stroll in gods knew how long. He had given up trying centuries ago.

  A babbling brook played its lovely music, and the evening sun turned the leaves above to stained glass art. The underbrush gave way to a path. Arken hesitated. What if he just kept walking? He had the stone. He could go someplace safe and change shape. Then, he could fly to the Isle of Warriors and warn them of what Feis planned to do.

  He looked back the way he had come and thought of Daya. It was too risky. The possibility of battle would keep him from a swift return, and she could be trapped there far longer than he expected. Or, Feis could discover he had slipped from under her nose, and she could send her huntsmen after Daya. Vyda might betray her; she was envious enough.

  He took the trail, encouraged that he hadn’t been turned around, but he didn’t intend to follow it to completion. So, he was surprised when he looked up and found the trail led to nowhere. Arken rubbed the back of his neck and turned in a slow circle. His acute vision picked up the tell-tale pink hidden in the overlapping shades of green. It was the bush he had walked passed earlier.

  His heart thudded. It could be another bush. He cut through a thorny shrub and moved toward it. Inhaling deeply, he recognized the scent and looked around again. A familiar tree. A rock he was certain he had nearly tripped over already. He sighed and kept walking, back to the tunnel. Back to the keep.

  It was disheartening. Arken realized he had no choice but to rely on the dragon and the human to help him carry out his plan. They would proceed as discussed. He would attempt the flight with Vyda by his side to guide him. Barring that, he would have to send Daya off with the Heart of the Dragon and pray she delivered it to the general.

  He stepped into the cool dark shadows of the tunnel and ambled to the lift. He was troubled by his love for her. Love should have been something easily given and free of regrets. It shouldn’t require him to watch his back. Yet, there was no denying that what he felt for Oedaya of the Sky Realm was something real.

  She liked him because he was nurturing and strong. He was drawn to her because she was daring and ambitious. In another life, or another world, they might be perfect for one another. But, not here. He exited the lift on his floor. Here, he was intended for another, and how he felt about Daya didn’t count.

  Arken went to his library to be alone. She was sleeping in his bed. He propped his feet on the desk and lounged in a leather chair. Opening his hand, he let the Heart of the Dragon materialized. “What other secrets are you hiding from me?” he asked. “There has to be a better way.”

  The cold diamond gave no response, and he let it disappear. He felt alone. He knew he could banish it with a walk through the corridor to his bedchamber. He could climb into bed with Daya, soft and warm against his side, and sleep away the late afternoon as though saving the world was someone else’s problem. He pushed away from the desk and left the library to do exactly that.

  It was Vyda who stopped him. Vyda, waiting at his bedroom door with more bad news.

  “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

  “It’s Feis.” The dragon looked reluctant to continue, but she made herself speak up. “She plans to sail to the Isle of Warriors by next month.”

  He sucked in a breath. “How do you know?”

  Vyda looked down. “Because she asked me to fly with her to make sure that they reach the correct place. We don’t have time to waste. We must leave the human and get to our warriors. We must end the reign of the dragon eaters once and for all!”

  Arken clenched his jaw. “Ready a message for Feis. Tell her you think you’ve found the jewel. We must stall her, and that’s the only thing that will entice her to halt this madness.”

  “But, I don’t have the jewel, Your Majesty. I can’t go back to her. You have to protect me.”

  “Vyda, let me think! Just—I have to think,” he said softer, opening the door to his bedchamber. He locked the doors behind him and moved to the bed where Daya slept so peacefully that he was hesitant to wake her. Her body called to him like a siren, and he almost stretched out next to her.

  He stopped himself. It was his kingdom or her. He couldn’t have both.

  Arken turned away from the bed and went in search of Vyda to finalize their plans for handling the dragon eater. He found the young dragon in the great hall, in dragon-shape. He paused at the door.

  “Why are you like that? Were you planning to leave?” he asked.

  She stared at him as she shifted into woman-shape again. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped. “Everywhere I go, I’m in danger. I took the shape I find most comfortable. Unlike you, I hate pretending to be mortal.”

  “Have a care with how you speak to the king.”

  She curtsied and held the pose for a second longer than necessary. It was mocking. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I seek not to offend,” she said sarcastically.

  He ignored her behavior and manifested the Heart of the Dragon. Vyda clutched her chest and strained toward it. He held it up for her to see before spiriting it away again. “I need you to find me a stone of roughly the same size and cut. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, but what for?”

  “We’re going to give Feis what she wants. We’ll give her the Heart of the Dragon.”

  “A decoy?”

  He smiled. “Not as far as she can tell.” He hoped.

  9

  Night had fallen by the time she awoke. For a moment, Daya thought she was in Manhattan with Marco, in a fancy five-star hotel. Then, she remembered that wasn’t her life anymore.
She was in someplace like heaven.

  Daya squeezed her eyes shut and snuggled deeper into her cocoon of covers. She buried her face in a pillow that smelled like Arken. She inhaled and released a dreamy sigh. Was this what it felt like to be punch drunk in love?

  Her limbs felt anchored to the bed, and her body was sated. Turning her head, she peeked at the grandeur of the master suite. There was the swing. She had the decency to blush and turn her head the other way. And, there was the settee where Arken had taken her again.

  Groaning at the memories, Daya pulled herself together and got out of bed. The stone floor was warm beneath her feet, as usual. Everything was perfect. She shuffled past a mirror and glanced at herself, naked by starlight. She had teeth and nail marks fading on her skin from the glorious, wild sex.

  The other scars were deeper. Her heart was a gaping hole. She was wide open for him, and there wasn’t a salve in the world that could fix that. Her next dreamy sigh turned into a whiny grumble. Of course, she had gone and messed things up by throwing his trust in his face.

  What on earth had possessed her to talk about the con she had pulled on Marco? Daya wished she could explain she wasn’t that girl anymore, but Arken wouldn’t understand. Hell, she wouldn’t either, in his position. He had the weight of several worlds on his shoulders. Loyalty was a big deal to him.

  She anxiously gnawed her bottom lip as she paced the luxurious bedchamber, wondering how to fix things. She considered the likelihood they were done for good. Just when she had made up her mind Feis wasn’t getting that stone, too. The timing was terrible.

  She threw up her hands and ambled to the bathing room. Arken was nowhere in sight, which made her think of the long future ahead without him. She hurriedly washed up in the tub that adjusted temperature to her taste, and her mood took a nosedive. Because common sense was common sense, there was no fixing this.

  Maybe a clean break is for the best. Get used to it. But, that was the thing. She was used to it—used to men thinking the worst of her. Arken had been different. She couldn’t blame him for his change of heart, but he wasn’t seeing the real Oedaya Krane. He was looking at her as the jewel thief, despite a burgeoning connection that was transforming her for the better.