by Diane Saxon
Her liquid eyes fluttered wide; her right eyebrow quirked high. “I don’t do that.”
A loud snort erupted from his lips. Everyone did it, didn’t they? Everyone he knew did it. Men were turned on by women touching themselves. It was a known fact.
In the stillness, he studied her face with a need to understand. Surprise rippled through him at her blank stare. “You’re serious.”
With an almost imperceptible move, she withdrew. She slipped her hand from his neck to his shoulder. “Yes.”
Surely, she was kidding. “Why?”
Her left eyebrow joined her right just short of her hairline. “Why am I serious?”
He snorted. It was obvious to him they were about to make love. They’d come close so many times, but he had no idea why she would deny them both by being obtuse. “Why don’t you masturbate?”
She moved her body away from his, blinked hard, and dipped her head. “Because I’ve never been inclined to.”
Uncertainty wavered in his stomach.
“Everyone does it.” He thought it might reassure her, but the small wrinkle between her brows deepened, and her mouth tightened as she puffed out an irritated breath.
“Okay. I’m not everyone, and if it worries you…”
“No.” He feathered his fingers over her soft cheek and tried to make her understand. “But I’ve lived two hundred years and never known anyone not do it.”
She snapped her head up and glared at him. “Do you watch them all do it?”
“No.” Offended, he reeled back.
“Well, how do you know they do?” Challenging, she moved in closer, almost as close as when they had started the conversation, but this time her chin jutted out, and he was under no illusion she was about to kiss him. Maybe a Glaswegian kiss—a smack in the nose again, this time with her forehead.
“Well, because the guys on the team,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders helplessly as though it would be explanation enough. How had she managed to put him on the defense? It wasn’t as though she was right. Everyone masturbated.
“How long have you been playing football?”
Confused by the sudden change in subject, he blinked down at her. Perhaps he did have a brain bleed. “Ummm. This lifetime—or the last?”
“How long altogether, Matthew?”
“Since they had gridirons.”
“Which is…?”
He scratched his head, unable to grasp her meaning. “I think possibly around 1904. I played for Michigan around then.”
“Right.” She poked his naked shoulder with her sharp nail, almost piercing his skin. “You’ve been around alpha males far too long. You should try living with women who scream at you all day. Believe me, you would not be tempted to…you know.”
“Ginny…”
She gave him a rough shove with her delicate hands that barely had an impact on his body but gave his heart a nasty hitch.
“Nope. I’m sorry. If that’s what it takes to turn you on, then you will be sorely disappointed.”
Disappointment wasn’t the only thing he was inclined to feel. She was starting to sound like a schoolmarm—or possibly a librarian. She just needed to pull her hair back into a tight bun and stick her glasses back on her face. He almost picked them up from the side table and handed them to her.
He scanned her face, her sparkling eyes, her tight lips. It wouldn’t matter to him—she still made his chest constrict. There was no way he was leaving this time. He would have to find a way.
He drew in a long breath and let it out on an irritated sigh. “Wait a minute. Lie down.”
Eyes flat, she blinked at him and almost made him laugh. It could be harder than he anticipated.
“Ginny, trust me. Just lie down, honey. I want to show you something.”
He heard the gulp hit the back of her throat and slide down. He repressed his grin as he realized he had the ability to get the better of her. After all, he’d had two hundred years of experience with women, and he’d never known one who wasn’t willing to touch herself, given the right encouragement. He just needed to prove it to her. He smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Relax.”
She breathed heavily through her dainty nostrils as she reclined against the pillows. A jangled confusion of voices tried to burn his ears, but he was impervious, his own excitement thundering loud enough in his head to obscure their noise.
“When I came in the room—” Her bright eyes reflected the silver glitter of the moonlight. “—naked because I had just shifted from dragon form, you were lying like this.” He placed her limp arm where it had previously been, lifted her hand, and maneuvered her fingers into position. “It was a turn-on.” He wasn’t sure whether he could make her understand, but the simple act of her breathing turned him on.
He waited.
Her absolute stillness threw him for a moment, but when her dulcet tones reached his ears, he almost collapsed at the invitation in her smooth, husky voice.
“What were you doing when I was still asleep?”
Relief flowed through his chest. “I kissed your thigh.”
“Show me.” Her throaty whisper brushed his ears; her eyelids dipped to half-mast.
Eager to demonstrate, he lowered his head. His heart thundered in the base of his throat, far more insistently than it had before. He swiped his tongue over his lips to wet them before he touched them to her warmed flesh. The quiet hitch in her breath made him raise his head and meet her passionate gaze. Again, he waited.
“Then what…?”
The pull of a smile twitched his lips, and he sent a prayer of thanks. “I traced my lips along your fingers.”
The automatic twitch of those digits almost sent him into ecstasy. His hard shaft bounced in response, until he pressed it firmly against the side of the sofa to stop it from getting too carried away. The rough material against his naked flesh simply heightened the sensation, and he let loose a groan as he cruised his lips to the tips of her sweet, slender fingers, almost coming in contact with her satin panties. He hesitated, waiting for her response while he breathed in her scent.
“Then what…?”
He could barely hear her, her voice was so husky and quiet. “You woke up.”
She moved her hand to tangle her fingers through his hair. “What would you have done if I had not?”
He met her sultry, heavy-eyed look and took another hard swallow. “I…”
“Demonstrate.”
His heart thundered in his chest to join the rising rhythm of women lamenting softly in his head. He dipped down, trailed a wet tongue along the line of her panties, and rejoiced at the small ripple he felt run across her flesh, making her hips rise in response. He paused and raised his head to look at her. A pink flush painted her cheeks; her red lips were parted; her pale silken neck tempted him to nip while she tipped her head back, offering him the most erotic of pleasures.
Her fingers flexed in his hair. “Continue.”
She was going to kill him. She had no idea what she was putting him through, but she sure was going to give him a heart attack.
He ducked back in. This time after he cruised the length of her soft, silken groin with the tip of his tongue, he opened his lips and drew in the tantalizing skin at the crease of her thigh to taste her with a smooth stroke of his tongue. Her legs fell wide, exposing her to him. Before he became lost, he withdrew, sat back on his haunches, and drank in the sight of her. The front of her panties had a spreading wetness that screamed of her desire. The voices in his head rose, passion-filled and pleading, ratcheting his pulse up another few notches.
He placed his palm on her other thigh and stared, amazed at the difference in his size and hers, his coloring and hers. The deep-tanned skin of his hand rested on the pure white of her thigh. Her breath shuddered as he took a long, slow swipe of his thumb upward just under her panty line and then drew it back again. This time he smeared the tip of it through her hot, wet heat and brushed the edge of her swollen lips. A falsetto humming
vibration set up in his skull, filled with approval and appreciation, to urge him on.
He smoothed his thumb through again, ensuring it hit the center of her lips, smudging her honeyed moisture. No longer able to hold back, he bent over her and placed his mouth over the wet patch on the satin material of her panties.
“Matt,” she breathed.
He opened his mouth and sucked her in, feeling the trembling vibrations in her body, rejoicing in her muted whimper.
“Matt.” Higher-pitched, her sweet voice drove him ever onward.
Using his strong fingers, he broke one side of her panties and then the other, allowing the material to drop away from her body, unable to imagine halting now long enough for her to remove them. Her legs slack, she allowed him to raise one and rest it on his shoulder while he moved in closer, his head between her legs, his lips opened wide to suck her dewy, swollen moistness deep inside his mouth. He slipped his hands under her rear and lifted her higher to gain better access.
Her desperate fingers wrapped themselves in his hair, and her body flexed to lift him nearer, pushing his face deep into her welcoming flesh. He swiped his tongue through her heated folds, loving the slick wetness of her, and found it still wasn’t enough. He licked deep to taste her, and then pushed his tongue inside her with a smooth, long stroke. Touching his thumb with a subtle pressure against the small nub of her clitoris, he felt her break. Small rhythmic pulses clasped his fingers as he plunged them inside her. Her muscles contracted harder as he twirled his tongue over the sweet, stiff button his thumb had just left.
Her body writhed beneath him as he held her still with one firm hand grasping her backside. Her thighs tightened for a moment around his ears, still unable to block out the sounds of heavenly angels singing an aria in his head. With the suddenness of death, the voices stopped, her legs went slack, and she flopped, languid and relaxed. The only sign she was still in the land of the living was her quick, gasping breaths.
“I never knew.”
Blood still pounded through his head, but he chuckled, pleased that he’d made his point. “See what you’ve been missing out on?”
“Yes.”
Feeling superior, he raised himself above her to stare down into her face and coax a confession from her. “All this time you could have been doing that for yourself.”
She opened her eyelids. Her silver eyes glinted at him before she smiled long, slow, and sly. “No. I can’t see the point. My tongue just isn’t long enough.”
•●•
His smooth, naked chest filled her vision, and she reached out to glide her hand over his heated skin. Her limbs felt heavy and relaxed, but she knew there was more. Wanted more. From her handsome god, kneeling naked before her. She closed her eyes, and a moment of doubt flickered through her, sending ice to race through her veins. Why her? Why would he want plain, ordinary her? When she peeped at him again, the passionate gleam in his jade eyes convinced her beyond doubt that at this moment, in this time, he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
His intensity washed over her, chasing away the chill. Heat flooded her system, and she reached out for him, almost laughing as he lay half on, half off her small sofa, his huge frame obscuring the shaft of moonlight and throwing his features into darkness.
The delicate touch of his lips to the tip of her nose enslaved her; the soft brush of his breath against her cheek as he spoke filled her heart until she could barely breathe past the passion he’d induced.
He nuzzled her ear. “Perhaps we should move to the bed.”
Her smile widened as she smoothed his thick hair from his forehead, stroked her fingers around his ear, and then cupped the back of his neck to draw him in for a gentle kiss. As their lips parted, a thought stole past her languor. “The bed is still broken.”
Cool air rushed in as he lifted his body from hers. “Wait there.”
The man was gone in a moment, and she propped herself up on her elbows so she could scan the empty room while she wondered what was expected of her. She glanced down at herself; the silver moon cast its soft fingers of light over her. Shocked at the wanton display she made stretched out on her sofa, she stared at her wide-open legs. Her panties lay torn and abandoned, flicked onto the floor, she assumed, as she’d writhed beneath his ministrations.
Florid embarrassment filled her cheeks, and she suspected they probably glowed in the dark as she struggled upright, tugging her skirt down while she listened to the sounds coming from her bedroom. Grateful for the lack of neighbors, she wondered what on earth Matt was up to as she heard the loud scraping of furniture being moved, followed by a hefty whooomff.
Self-doubt trembled over her skin. The man was a sexual god, and she had no idea what she should do next. Her knees trembled as another loud bang erupted from her bedroom.
The wet between her thighs decided her, and she made a move toward the bathroom, only to be halted by the appearance of a giant, naked, and obviously very interested male. A shaft of moonlight cut across to highlight his lower regions. The rampant fire in her cheeks burst into an inferno.
He’d stolen her voice and the accompanying voices of her banshee choir. She raised a hand and pointed at the bathroom door in lieu of speaking. The loud thrum of her pulse escalated in response to the sexy smile that spread over his face. The shadows emphasized the deep lines forming on either side of his mouth.
“I…”
He used his thumb to indicate the door behind him. “Adventurous of you. I’m sure we can try the shower another time, but I think you’ll find it more comfortable in here.”
She twined her fingers together at her waist, aware of how nervous it made her appear. He’d deliberately misunderstood her and tried to smooth the way, but still she hesitated. He stepped forward, and she drew in a breath, letting it out in a hot rush of words. “I thought I should…maybe…clean up.”
His smile widened as he came closer and raised his hand to touch her cheek. A master of seduction, he placed his warm lips against her temple in a soothing touch. He’d burned her flesh; now he was about to incinerate her heart. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the next step.
“There’s no need.” He trailed a line of kisses across to her ear, eliciting a fine tremble to run down her neck and warm her chest. “Sex is a messy business, Ginny.” Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she raised her hands to rest them against his wide chest. The strong beat of his heart kicked under her palm. “It’s wet…” He dipped his tongue into the shell of her ear and made her squirm. “…slippery…” He sucked her soft lobe into his mouth and crumbled her resolve. “…and if you do it right…” He nipped her flesh and made her knees weaken. “…it’s dirty…”
She drew in a breath to reply and let it out again in a panicked rush as he scooped her into his arms.
As he strode through the bedroom doorway and then stopped, she glanced around and almost laughed. For an unruly beast, better placed on the gridiron, he certainly seemed to have a romantic streak. Soft golden light nudged the darkness back. There was no need to ask how he’d lit the three candles she kept grouped on her bedside table. Tapers were never going to be an issue with a dragon shifter in the room. As the flames flickered, the subtle scent of vanilla wafted on the heavy night air.
Surprise coaxed a restrained laugh from her as she looked at the up-ended bedstead propped against the side wall. The mattress was neatly laid in the middle of the wooden floor, the covers turned down in invitation.
Mouth suddenly dry, the smile fell from her lips as doubt shivered through her. “Matt, I…”
With a suddenness that belied his size, he whipped around. Her head gave a solid thwack against the half-open door, and sparks—nothing to do with romance—shot through her skull.
“Aaargh!”
“Oh shit, shit. I’m sorry. Ginny. I’m sorry.”
With less gentility than an ape, he dumped her on the bed, leaped on top of her, and cradled her throbbing head between his enormous hands.
“You
moron. What were you thinking?” The shrillness of her voice almost made her own ears bleed, and she tried to reel it in.
He placed a desperate kiss on her temple, where she knew a lump had already formed as a swathe of bright lights lit up the back of her eyelids.
“I’m sorry. I was going to close the door.” His warm lips kissed the middle of her forehead, the bridge of her nose. Then he buried his face in her neck and snorted with laughter, sending ticklish shudders to chase goose bumps over her skin
She squelched the urge to laugh with him. “What for? We’re alone.” Still sharp, the banshee screech subsided considerably as he soothed her with a touch of his lips to the tip of her nose.
“In case anyone decided to zip in here. I misjudged. I’m sorry.”
She shoved at his wide shoulders to no effect.
“You’re a gorilla.”
His mouth pulled into a wide smile against hers as he settled her more comfortably, and with no effort at all, wrapped a muscular arm around her. “A dragon.”
She curled her fingers in his long blond hair and gave a punishing yank, satisfied to hear his low grunt of pain. “A clumsy dragon.”
Undeterred, he parted her lips with his own, sipped from her, and agreed with an appreciative grumbling noise, making her chest vibrate with the feel of it.
“Are you okay? Will you live, or do I need to take you to the ER?”
It occurred to her that her own snort was unladylike, but then he wasn’t the typical gentleman. “I’ll live.”
“Let me kiss it better.”
He cruised his mouth over her temple, kissed her closed eyelids one at a time, and then returned to her smiling lips. “Better?”
“Hmmm. Maybe.”
“Let me try again.”
This time his touch was featherlight, but when his lips returned to her mouth, they were firmer, more demanding, and heat spread over her chest and up her neck to take her back to the zone. The one she’d been deeply ensconced in before he’d tried to decapitate her. She tried not to laugh as the errant thought snaked through her mind.
“Ginny?”
“Yes?” She couldn’t stop the giggle, not until he raised his head and his fierce green eyes glowed, intense and serious.