His Fairy Share

by Meghan Maslow

  I was sick to death of trying to take away my own happiness.

  I deserved this.

  We deserved this.

  Twig sighed, and my attention snapped back to him. “A pirate ship is not where I imagined having our mating ceremony. I wanted pelts threaded with spun gold and dwarf pokeroot petals spread over them. Candlelight and glasses of chilled mint blaze. I wanted to woo you the way you deserve.”

  “I dunno, dragon. A pirate ship floating over the corpses of our enemies seems about right to me.”

  “So bloodthirsty, wiz . . . sweetheart. You know I love it when you get all vengeful.” He crept over me and slowly, oh, so slowly lowered his weight. I instantly wrapped my legs around his hips, seeking friction.

  “Only for those who think they can harpoon my dragon. Fucking witches.”

  “Such language, Quinn.” Twig leaned close and planted a kiss at the corner of my jaw.

  “Pirates are salty.”

  “Mmm, salty, I like it. I’d like to make you salty, Pirate Broomsparkle.”

  I groaned before laughing. “That was sooo bad. I’m not even sure Bill would have come up with such a bad joke.”

  Twig slapped his hand over my mouth. We both froze, my eyes widening. Looked around the room. A few more seconds ticked by.

  “Hellafuck, don’t jinx us. If a certain red fury cockblocked us at this moment, my dragon might burn down the ship.”

  I licked his palm and he jerked it back, giving me a dirty look. I grinned. “We’d ignore him.”

  “You’re irresistible.” Twig braced himself on his forearms before rolling off me. He turned on his side, even as I tried to pull him back on top. He ignored my tugging and rummaged through Beckett’s side table until he pulled out a small vial of lube. Not Slick Dick’s, but it would do.

  I tugged again, and the damn dragon still didn’t budge.

  “Nuh-uh. I want you like this.” He manhandled me onto my side, my back to him. He lay down behind me, pulling me tight against him. “It’s the best position for mating.”

  “I assumed that would be hands and knees.” I wiggled my hips, making sure I had his full attention.

  He growled and slapped my ass.

  I squeaked in surprise before elbowing him.

  He grunted, his breath hot on my neck, ghosting over my skin. “I want as much skin touching as possible.” When he tweaked my nipple, I forgot what we’d been arguing about. Let the sensation of his hands on my skin take over.

  And they roamed everywhere. Down my stomach, across my thighs, and back to my nipples. My hand reached back and braced against his hip. I arched into his caresses, my world going both fuzzy and sharp at the same time.

  “You have no idea, Quinn, how much I want this. Want you.” Twig’s strokes became possessive, and I hummed my approval. I ground back against him, loving the rumble in his chest when I teased him. His large hand slid between my legs, cupping my balls firmly, and I mewled. His touch so hot my skin practically burned. He latched on to a spot below my ear, sucking up a mark. Blood and tears, I loved when he did that. Almost as much as I loved marking him.

  Moaning, I dug my fingers into his hip, braced myself. His leg slipped between mine and he pulled up my leg, opening me wide. He released my balls, his fingers returning a moment later, slick with lube. He ghosted over my sac before sliding over the sensitive skin behind and then finally circling my hole. I arched my lower back, urging him forward, but in this position he had all the control.

  Just as he pushed a finger into my body, he bit down on my shoulder. Not enough to break skin, but enough to send my already oversensitive nerve endings into a confusion of pain and pleasure. I keened, unable to hold back my response.

  He hummed against my skin, licking over the spot, even as a second finger joined the first inside me. I tried to cant my hips, but he raised his knee more, and it effectively pinned me open . . . and still. Caught.

  Early in our relationship, not being able to move would have freaked me out, though I probably would have hidden it from him. I didn’t want anyone to ever have control over my body again. But Twig was different. Special. I’d learned to trust him fully. With my body and my heart. He’d never take advantage of that faith.

  I could even admit—at least to myself—that I liked his control in moments like this. As if sensing my feelings, he looped his free arm underneath me and placed his hand against my throat, applying the slightest pressure, controlling even those movements.

  “I can’t read your emotions, so you’re going to have to let me know if this is okay. Speak up if I’m doing something you don’t like.”

  “I’m good.” One more reason I loved him so damn much.

  Twig nipped my shoulder again, his hand holding me in place.

  I moaned long and loud. He chuckled against my nape, the hint of fang making me wild.

  “Twig, come on, don’t tease.”

  He ignored me, his fingers thrusting lazily in and out of my body, never quite touching where I needed. By the time he’d thoroughly stretched me—completely unnecessary, the sadistic bastard—I felt like a drum with the skin pulled too tight. My limbs trembled, and I reached down to take my cock in hand. Screw this!

  Twig’s teeth clamped hard on my shoulder, and I gasped, my hand stilling on my dick. “No touching. I want you to take only the pleasure I give you.”

  “Twig, come on—”

  He growled, sending shivers down my spine.

  “Move your hand, baby.”

  No one ever claimed Broomsparkles weren’t brave. Or apparently foolish. I tightened my grip and slid my hand along my length, slow, so he wouldn’t mistake my action.

  A louder growl tore from his throat, and his grip on my throat tightened. I fucking loved it. His fangs nipped my nape, and his fingers withdrew from my body. I grunted from the loss. He clasped my wrist and pulled my hand away from my aching cock. I pretended to fight him, but we both knew it wasn’t any contest. He released my neck and his hand captured both of mine. I tugged, and he tightened his grip. I was well and truly trapped.

  “Playing with fire, sweetheart?” Laughter hovered just under his voice. His free hand pinched my nipple, causing me to shiver, before trailing over my abs. I expected him to skirt my cock, teasing me, but he gripped me in his large, calloused palm, and it was . . . perfect. He gave me a few steady tugs, and my ass clenched from the stimulation, my balls pulling up tight.

  “Twig, I’m close.”

  “Should I give you that orgasm? Leave your sweet hole alone?” His movement sped up, and I bit my lip not to cry out.

  No way he’d leave me wanting, our mating too important. Still . . .

  “I want you inside me when I come,” I bit out.

  “That so?” His hand slowed down. Then picked up a faster rhythm.

  I panted, arching. “Twig! I’m gonna—”

  Twig clamped down on the base of my cock and squeezed. I swore, cursed his lineage. He shook with laughter, the amused bastard. I struggled, but he held me in place easily. He waited until my need to come subsided. My body felt like one giant over-sensitized nerve.

  “Maybe you’ll think twice about baiting a dragon next time.” His hand picked up the same quick rhythm, and I shouted, the muscles in my belly contracting, so, so close. Before I could let loose, that same hand cut my pleasure off with brutal pressure. I all but sobbed, cussing under my breath.

  He edged me for what felt like hours, each time pulling me back from bliss. I struggled, sweat sticking us together, his whispered, taunting words only turning me on more, as he played my body like he owned it.

  “So close that time.” His evil laugh rang in my ears.

  I growled. “Get on with it, Starfig!”

  “Or you’ll what? You know, Quinn, you’d catch a lot more dragons with gold. Maybe you should try asking. Sweetly.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Two more times to the edge and back, and I reconsidered my position. “Twig, come on. Please!”
<
br />   “You’re getting closer.” He nuzzled my damp hair, his tongue playing over my earlobe.

  “I need you, need us to be mated. Please, dragon.” I didn’t even recognize my voice.

  He trembled, shaking the bed. Oh, his dragon liked that. I’d been talking to the wrong part of him all along.

  “That’s right, dragon. Need you to sink inside me and give me the mating bite.”

  “Quinn—” Twig’s voice cut off. A puff of smoke poured from his mouth. His grip on my wrists tightened painfully, but it only added to the rush of sensations.

  I still couldn’t move but moaned long and loud. “Come on, dragon. Don’t you want me?”

  “You play with fire,” Twig choked out before releasing my cock and hefting my knee even higher, pulling me back against his pelvis.

  Fuck, his cock was so hard. He lined up with my body and slowly breached me, one inch at a time.

  We both moaned. So full. So glorious. I relaxed against him, willing my body to accept him. He pushed in slow and steady until his pelvis pressed against my ass, fully seated.

  I panted, still amazed that he was all mine. He remained still to let me adjust. I appreciated the consideration, but, I wiggled, trying to grind my hips against him.

  That did it.

  He pulled back until only the head of his cock remained inside me and then thrust in until there wasn’t any space between our bodies. He set up an intense but welcome rhythm, keeping me all but immobile, forcing me to take whatever he gave. Could there be anything better? If so, I had yet to experience it. Twig’s hips pistoned, his hand gripping my hip so tight I’d have bruises later. He shifted slightly, and I keened when the angle brushed over my gland, sending ripples of pleasure through every part of me.

  My dragon was no slow study. He continued to stroke in and out of my body, his angle pegging my prostrate with each glorious thrust of that thick cock.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted. Or was that me?

  My body wound so tight I was on the cusp of coming, even without him touching my dick. I shook in his embrace, our heartbeats seeming to thunder in my ears. Oh, fuck, I was going to . . .

  Just as my orgasm tore through me, his fangs sank into my neck where it met my shoulder. I yelped, the pain more than I’d expected, even as I came. Shaking so hard I was in danger of rattling apart, Twig held me tight, his teeth still holding me firm as fire raced throughout my body.

  Heat.

  Pain.

  And then the heady rush of pleasure. Love. Home. Tingling currents of pure energy.

  A deep blue flash behind my eyelids, and suddenly his emotions filled my skull, roaring back as though they’d never left. Pride, contentment, joy. I moaned, came again, my back arching from the heady mix of pleasure-pain.

  Twig snarled, even as he kept his teeth embedded in my neck. He stiffened. Heat flooded my ass as he let go, filling me up. He groaned once. His fangs retracted, releasing me. As his tongue licked over the mating bite, I let out a soft moan. Too sated to do anything more, but I couldn’t deny how sensitive that patch of skin now felt.

  When he stopped tending the spot, he withdrew from my body. We both lay limp, our new bond settling into place. I kept my eyes closed, searched around inside my head, tracing the shape of our connection. Similar, but so different from the wizard-familiar bond we once shared. Instead of a single connecting thread, a web of connections unfurled, tender, shiny, and new. Amazing.

  Perfect. Nothing could ruin this moment.

  “What in hellafuck? Quinn, you’re glowing.”

  “Whaaat?” My eyelids sprung open. Twig released my wrists, sat up.

  “You’re fucking glowing.” He reached out a hand and gingerly touched my shoulder as though I’d burn him. I lifted my hand and damn if I wasn’t shining a deep blue, like the color of his scales. The tattoos on my arms slowly bled away, replaced by the same scale-like markings that Twig sported.

  I pushed myself to sitting and turned to him.

  He sucked in a harsh breath. “Your eyes are blue. The same color as mine.”

  I blinked, but my eyes didn’t feel any different. “Is this part of mating?”

  “I-I’m not sure.” He peered at me.

  Running my hands over my face, I scanned the cabin for a mirror. I wanted to see for myself. Nothing. Of course.

  “It’s beginning to fade. Your eyes are shifting back to normal.” Twig’s emotions flooded my senses like a dam breaking. Worry, hope, and . . . curiosity.

  I closed my eyes to try to dial back our connection. Felt like he was screaming his feelings in my ear. I’m sure I did the same to him, though he didn’t seem bothered.

  Tracing our bond again, I learned it as I went. Unlike our wizard-familiar bond, this bond felt thicker, sturdier, and radiated a deep blue. I had always thought of our old bond as powerful and resilient, but it paled in comparison with the mate bond’s strength and reach. The new bond twined around our limbs, all the threads connecting at our hearts. Could Twig see these strands as clearly as I could?

  I blinked again, focusing on my dragon, my mate. I grinned, and gratitude filled me. I reached for him, but my bracer tingled, and blue flame erupted in my palms.

  We both gaped. Took me a moment to think to snuff the flame. It disappeared.

  Because. I. Willed. It. To.

  I focused my will, and the flame reappeared.

  “Hellafuck, Quinn. What’s going on?” Twig gripped my wrists.

  I willed the fire to dissolve. Once again it disappeared. What in hydra’s hundred hexes? I closed my eyes, felt for the gaping hole where my magic and our old bond used to reside. Instead, I found a deep blue expanse, a lake, blue threads twisting through it and sparking. Did that mean . . .

  Burn me, I had magic again! Dragon magic.

  42

  “Quinn!” Twig gripped my shoulders. I focused on his voice, cracking my lids open.

  I snickered, then belly laughed, my voice one notch below hysterical. Or maybe above. I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “What the fuck?” Twig pulled me close, and I fell into his embrace, unable to stop laughing. He held me through it, his emotions sending comfort, tinged with his fear.

  I wheezed, trying to tell him that I was okay, but I laughed harder. Instead, I let him feel the full range of my emotions, not censoring anything.

  He gasped. “But, how?”

  I finally wound down and sniffled, gripping him tight, my guiding light in this crazy world.

  “I-I don’t know. It’s our bond, but I don’t understand . . .” I held out my hand and called up another fireball. It sprung to life in my palm, still tinged dark blue. Dragon’s fire.

  “Your eyes turned blue again.”

  I snuffed the fireball. Waited.

  “And now back to normal.” Twig’s voice remained cautious, but his emotions vibrated through our link—guarded excitement. “Try something else.”

  I focused on calling forth a shield. It sprung up around us, a shimmering blue. And even stronger than anything I could create previously.

  Twig sniggered. “It tickles when you call on the magic. And your eyes are blue again.”

  I released the shield. “I can’t believe it.”

  Twig grinned. “Believe it, wizard. You’re back.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m back.”

  Twig gifted me with a soft smile, turned over my palm in his, and placed a kiss in the center.

  My eyes widened. “If this is because of our bond, am I syphoning off your magic? Am I depleting you?”

  “Don’t think so.” He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned.

  “How can you be sure, dragon? What if I’m draining your magic? Oh, dust and ashes, I could be a magic vampire!”

  Twig’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, before his attention sharpened. “Nah, I’m good.”

  “What do you mean, ‘good?’ You can’t know—”

  “Quinn, stop.” He held me tighter. “You’re freaking out over no
thing. The most I felt was a little tickle. My magic is innate. Even if you were draining it—which you’re not—you’re my mate. You can’t hurt me. Ever. I’ve got enough for both of us.”

  “But how am I tapping into your magic? It’s so much stronger than mine. I’ve never heard . . .”

  “No other creature has received magic from a dragon mating.” Twig shifted me on his lap.

  “If most dragon mates are other dragons or other creatures with innate magic, maybe it’s not an issue. Have you ever heard of a dragon-human mating before us?” I worried my lip between my teeth.

  Twig chuckled. “No, humans are food. Dragons don’t typically make lifetime commitments to their supper.”

  “Oh, fuck you.” I shoved his shoulder, and he chuffed.

  “Hmm, that sounds pretty nice to me, wizard. We can see if our new bond resonates the way our old one did.”

  I rolled my eyes but gave him a fond smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Well, you mated me. Put a ring on it. Bought the cow. Hitched your wagon to mine. Took the plunge—”

  I slapped both hands over his mouth. “Okay, okay, I get it. We’re mated.”

  Twig’s eyes seemed to glow, shifting to his dragon’s. Then the bastard licked my palm, his tongue raspier and more flexible than any human’s. I yanked my hands away, and he smirked.

  “Yes, yes, we are.” A loud purr rumbled from his chest.

  Well, perhaps we could think more about this later.

  Much later.

  “I can’t believe it.” Beckett’s hands rested against the back of my head as she stood over me in her cabin several hours later, her face scrunched up in concentration. I sat on the bunk petting a snoring Cookie while letting Beckett probe around in my head a bit. “It’s so amazing. I’ve felt nothing like it. You’re strong. Really strong. The strongest I’ve ever touched. But it feels so different from before. Hard to explain.”