No underwear. Oh fuck, she wasn’t wearing any underwear, and that perfect juicy ass was laid out before him like a banquet for a starving man, and her pussy was wet and pink and perfect and he could smell her sweetness.
His dragon roared and raged inside, demanding to get to its mate, and his dick felt like it was about to strangle him for his stupidity in not going over there and sinking inside that delectable body right now.
Her clever, clever fingers stroked over the folds of her pussy, glistening with juices he wanted to suck off them. “Your mouth would feel so good, Mica. Everything I would need. You wouldn’t leave me unsatisfied, would you? You’d take care of your mate. Everyone would look at me and know how well you fuck me, wouldn’t they? Any man seeing me would know he’d never measure up.”
Hell yeah they would. They’d see her marked and sated and smug, and they’d know she was taken by a mate who adored her. A mate who would pull their lungs out if they got any ideas about her.
Sophie pushed two fingers inside herself, a low groan escaping her as she began to pump them in and out of that pink hole, and the dragon snapped its teeth. It was his right to be inside his mate’s body. It was his pride to cause his mate to make those sounds. Why the fuck was Mica allowing her to carry on without him.
Sophie’s hips began moving to a rhythm, driving those fingers in deeper, but the frustrated edge to her cries told how she couldn’t get them deep enough. “Mica, please…”
Dragon and man both snapped at that, and Mica lunged, moving her fingers so he could plunge his tongue inside her.
Sophie threw her head back and keened at the sensation, but Mica didn’t pause. She wanted this, had begged for it, and now he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied.
On his tongue was the earthy, sweet taste of woman, and he needed more. He pushed deeper, filling her as much as he could, letting her inner walls clamp against him as he took in more and more of her juices.
Her hips rocked back against him and he gave a small slap to her ass, a reminder who was now in charge, and a gush of wetness met the action, making him growl harder and go deeper.
Her first orgasm was going to be on his tongue, and by the sounds tearing from her throat, by the shuddering of her thighs, she was close. One more push, his fingers on that little nub, and she fell over, a loud shout above him as his tongue worked her through every aftershock.
As she came back to herself, he kept his mouth light on her, letting her settle but keeping an edge there, an edge he was going to build back into an inferno as soon as she was ready. He stroked over her ass and thighs, petting those gorgeous legs so nicely spread before him. Coating his thumb with her own juices, he placed it over the little pucker of her asshole, gently rubbing the sensitive skin there.
Sophie keened and pushed back against him, her heat starting to build again, the smell of her becoming more pungent and inviting. Damn, this woman turned him inside out. The way she opened responded to the little bit of petting, the small push inside that had her letting out a long moan, told him this was something they needed to explore in the future.
Right now though, he had another fantasy to fulfill, and he needed to claim his mate. The dragon inside him would allow nothing else, and the man was tired of fighting himself, the dragon, and the gorgeous, brave, sexy-as-fuck woman before him.
She was his mate, and if his mate demanded something, it was his place to provide it for her.
Mica rose to his feet, and his one smooth stroke buried himself inside Sophie. “That what you wanted? You wanted to be bend over and let me ride you?”
She was sobbing, that gorgeous hair moving over her back, begging him to gather it up in his fist. So he did, pulling her head back, the long line of her neck exposed to him, and he ran his tongue from her neck to the lobe of her ear as he gave an extra deep thrust.
The tables were turned, and she was at his mercy, able to do nothing except brace herself while he fucked into her and speak her pleasure. “Love you inside me. Need you inside me. Fuck me harder.” She pushed her hips back, an echo of her earlier edge coming through. “Fuck me.”
His thrusts sped up and he pulled on her hair to bring her ear close his mouth. “Fuck you like that, you mean?” His other hand came around her stomach to her breasts, where he grabbed the neckline of the shirt and pulled, ripping the fabric and causing her breasts to spill out. Now they bounced with every thrust, his large hand cupping one of them, pinching the nipple between his thumb and finger in a way that had her hips stuttering against his. “That how to fuck you? Is only my cock going to fill you from now on?”
“Only if you mate me.” The anger from earlier now laced her voice, and she forced her pussy walls to clamp down on his cock, slowing his thrust, the sensation enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head. “You want this pussy only for you? Then you mate me. Otherwise, I’ll be on my hands and knees for someone else.”
Oh fuck no! He threw his head back and roared. He stopped his thrusts and used the arm on her belly to lift her while she still was connected to his cock, her feet no longer touching the ground.
Shifting to the side, he put her with her knees on the couch, pushing her head and shoulders down, keeping her hips lifted, her position leaving her as open and vulnerable to him as possible, letting him get inside her as deep as he could.
His cock pounded her now, forcing deep inside her, so deep she’d never question who she belonged to. “This body is mine. You think anyone else could fill you like this? You think anyone else could make you scream?” He did just that, shifting until the angle was perfect, where it hit that spot inside her that lit her up while his fingers played with her clit, alternating hard and gentle with the smallest edge of occasional pain, and she was a sobbing mess underneath him, fingers clenching at the fabric, mouth open and helpless to stop the cries that escaped, skin soaked with perspiration, sweat and pussy mixing in the air, bringing his dragon to the surface.
And her pussy was tightening on him painfully, her cries echoing, getting louder, and he took his hands to push apart her ass cheeks, watching his cock disappear in that sweet flesh, and fuck, he was possessing her, he was inside her, his dick pistoning in and out as he watched. His balls tightened, needing to pump into her, to make her a leaking mess full of nothing but him, and his vision went white as she screamed and clamped tight around him, as his balls emptied themselves, as the dragon emerged, demanding his mate, demanding they be joined, and Mica was helpless against it all.
Sophie…Sophie…SOOOOPHIE!!!!
Awareness was slow to return. Drips and drabbles. The tick of a clock. The refrigerator’s hum. The deep, grasping breaths of the woman underneath him.
“Fuck.” He pulled away, not having meant to fall atop her. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
She was giggling, her hand covering the side of her face not buried in the couch. “I can’t believe I did that.”
He laughed to, his chest expanding in happiness. His mate was here with him, and she had fought to be with him, to bring them together. There would be worries in the future, there would be fear. She was his world, and he placed her in an uncertain position. Still, here, now, there was only joy that she had chosen him.
Mica pulled out of her, missing the closeness as soon he was free. He pulled her up and into his arms, going to his bedroom. There was a long night ahead of them, and he wanted her to be comfortable for everything he was going to do to her. “You are a fearsome creature.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her smile breathtaking, allowing him to carry her with no pushback. “How so?”
“You broke a dragon’s will. Few beings can claim that.”
“Mmmm, claim.” She reached up and nuzzled under his neck. “I think you should show me more about claiming.”
That, he planned to do – tonight, and the rest of their lives.
Chapter Nine
Granite was as still as unmoving as his namesake as he stood on the roof, his eyes fixed on t
he open window of the apartment three buildings over. A woman was visible, bent at the waist, towel-drying long white-blond hair while the faint strains of the pop song she had on drifted through the air to where he watched.
She had on a white tank and jeans so washed they were as pale as blue could get, the same color of her eyes. Eyes he couldn’t see now, but eyes he would never forget, never after that first sighting, her fierce and ready to tear into him, though her prominent ribs showed her starvation and the multiple bruises and dried blood spoke of beatings upon beatings.
She was still too thin, a thinness that came from hunger and not her body’s natural shape, but – and here a curl of pleasure spiraled inside his chest – he saw the pastry box opened and on her table. She’d accepted the gift and had eaten at least one.
Even if she didn’t realize it, she allowed him to care for her.
It was a start.
A rustle of wings, and Bas stepped next to him. As the other Claw, he and Bas had a connection, a bond, that they could claim with no one else, not even their Clan Leader. It made others wary of them, but Obsidian knew that their loyalty was to him and the Clan, so he did nothing to interfere or lessen it, as other leaders in their history had sometimes done.
“Your Only is beautiful.”
“She is fierce and wild and a protector. To call her beautiful is to call out the least of her.” The woman straightened, flinging the towel to the side and letting that cascade of hair fall down her shoulders, framing a face that would make angels weep to behold it. “But yes, she is beautiful.”
Bas clamped him on the shoulder in support, not saying anything else, because what else was there to say? He knew the details of Granite’s pain. Nothing could be added now that would change anything.
Clearing his throat, Granite asked, “What brings you here?”
Bas’s face lit up, the smile breathtaking in its joyfulness. “I have news on another Only, and it is your place to tell our Clan Leader…”
And in the space before Bas finished his sentence, a certainty fell over Granite, a peace filled him, and he knew their world would forever be changed.
“…I have seen Ashirah.”
Note from Ronin Winters: Peoples! Thanks for reading Mica, the first story of the Dragon Horde and my contribution to The Mating Fever collection. I hope you enjoyed!
Let me share a not-so-secret secret with you – Reviews are the BEST WAY for readers to discover authors. As a small-time author, I am very dependent on reviews, but I’m also aware the time spent writing a review could be spent in more enjoyable ways.
So, to show my gratitude, if you leave a review for me anywhere and email me [email protected] with the link to the review, I will gift you the next story in the Dragon Horde – Granite.
Current Order for DRAGON HORDE
Mica
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The Mating Season
The mating moon is rising...
Books Currently Released (In Order):
Temptation (Grey Wolves Rising #1)
Brindle (Winter Valley Wolves #1)
Hero (Wolves of Angels Rest #1)
Jace (Wolves of the Rising Sun #1)
Iron (Blue Collar Wolves #1)
Wild (Devils Point Wolves #1)
Obsession (Grey Wolves Rising #2)
Bosun (Winter Valley Wolves #2)
Joker (Wolves of Angels Rest #2)
Aiden (Wolves of the Rising Sun #2)
Brick House (Blue Collar Wolves #2)
Wicked (Devils Point Wolves #2)
Salvation (Grey Wolves Rising #3)
Berch (Winter Valley Wolves #3)
Rogue (Wolves of Angels Rest #3)
Luc (Wolves of the Rising Sun #3)
Steel (Blue Collar Wolves #3)
Wanted (Devils Point Wolves #3)
Chosen (Winter Valley Wolves #4)
Forbidden (Grey Wolves Rising #4)
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About the Author
Ronin Winters is the pseudonym/alternate name for writer Danielle Monsch (That wild and crazy gal!!!.... well no, not really, but it’s nice to pretend as her kids wipe their noses on her shirt yet again).
Ronin writes different stories than Danielle does, however both Ronin and Danielle write on the fantasy/paranormal side of things. If you enjoy Ronin, there is a pretty good chance you’ll enjoy Danielle, and vice-versa of course – so please check out Danielle at her Website.
Ronin has her own Mailing List (meaning if you sign-up for Ronin’s Newsletter, you’ll only receive news of Ronin’s releases.) and her own Facebook. However, since Ronin/Danielle can’t be arsed to create two completely different social media identities, and if you don’t care what the chick who wrote this story is called you just want to follow on social media, you can catch me (er…her) as Danielle Monsch on Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, and Pinterest.
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