Triple Talons

by Ophelia Bell

  Chapter Eight

  Simina gazed out over the mist-shrouded mountains from the deck that was perched on the roof of her cabin. This resort truly catered to shifters of all types, and she couldn’t wait to spend the day exploring from the air with Veryl. The vista beyond her small corner of the resort was still covered in morning fog, but the damp chill wasn’t able to dull her excitement. The sun was barely up and wouldn’t breach the mountainous horizon for another couple hours.

  She enjoyed the mysterious aura the mists lent the morning. The possibilities were endless, and she was eager to find out what the day would bring as the sun ascended and gradually burned off the fog.

  A soaring shape came into view in the distance. A bird, she thought at first, until she caught a glint of violet scales and the unmistakable shape of dragon wings. She stood up straighter and waved as Veryl banked and arced around the hilltop clearing, aiming for her cabin.

  Simina was breathless with excitement when he landed. He was magnificent, landing on the narrow ledge with the kind of skill she rarely saw in the average dragon. The confidence he carried was one of the most attractive things about him, but his physique was a close second, and her admiration continued when he transformed back into the man she’d met the night before, though very naked this time, and not the least bit shy.

  “Good morning,” he said, beaming at her from the edge of the deck, his hard muscles standing out in contrast to the mist-softened shapes of the landscape behind him. She allowed herself a slow perusal of his body. It was within her rights to look, at the very least. Attractiveness wasn’t a major criterion, but she was after an ideal mate for a baby. At least that was what she told herself as she took in his naked strength, all the way from his wavy black hair down his broad, sculpted chest, to his tight, chiseled abs. He was as hairless as any dragon shifter, and, oh … very well-endowed too. Yes, she imagined he would make very healthy babies, with equipment that impressive.

  “Do I get to view the goods too?” Veryl asked, his voice low and suggestive.

  Simina tore her enraptured gaze away from his crotch and lifted it again. He was freshly showered, his hair still damp. His skin too, but she guessed the layer of glistening moisture that coated him was from flying through the fog and not leftover from bathing.

  Holding his gaze, she smiled. “Fair is fair.”

  She untied the belt of her thick terrycloth robe and let it fall to the deck. They had plans to fly all day, so clothing wasn’t exactly going to be an option. She hadn’t expected she’d enjoy getting naked with a man again quite so soon, but when his gaze traveled over her ample curves, her entire body warmed as though his eyes radiated heat.

  “You are beautiful,” Veryl said after a thorough visual tour of her body. Then he tactfully lifted his gaze back to her face. He looked as excited as she felt, but he made no overtures. Instead he simply stepped to one side and tilted his chin to the sky. “Ready to go?”

  “As ready as ever,” she said, taking advantage of his unspoken offer to be the first to take wing. On her way past him to the edge of the deck, she cast a sideways glance toward his hips once more and was pleased to see his cock had begun to stir. Not to full hardness, but definitely not flaccid, either.

  Today would be an adventure, she decided as she leapt off the roof and her dragon took over, rejoicing at the long overdue freedom to soar on the currents high above the mountains and into the rising sun.

  Behind her, Veryl let out a trumpeting cry that she translated as a flirtatious commentary on his view of her tail end. She swiped her tail in an arc and called back a roar for him to try to keep up. It had been too long since she’d flown for her to waste this day waiting.

  Breakfast waited at their destination, which he’d promised he’d order ahead. He took the lead after about half an hour of flying, and she followed him to one of the private mountaintop cabins the resort maintained for its guests. He landed on the cabin’s deck first and shifted, and by the time she was on two feet again, he was waiting for her in the warm light of the morning sun that had started to break through the fog. He held a fresh white robe open for her.

  “You don’t want to spend the whole day naked?” she teased.

  Veryl shrugged. “I don’t mind it, but thought we’d talk and get to know each other a bit before we let ourselves get distracted. And I admit, you naked … Well, let’s just say I’d want to start working on the fatherhood part of this arrangement we’re both hoping for.”

  Simina laughed. “You have a good point. Better we work up to that. I’d at least want to have a full stomach first.”

  She slipped one arm into the sleeve of the robe he held, then turned her back toward him to put the other arm in. As he wrapped her in the soft, blanket-like fabric, he enfolded his arms around her shoulders and held her gently against his chest. Simina closed her eyes and relaxed back into his embrace, her heart pounding at how right—how easy—it felt to be held by him.

  “Do you feel it too?” he asked, his breath warm against her ear.

  “Feel what?”

  “This … sense of comfort. Like I was meant to hold you.”

  “Yeah … Is that strange? It definitely isn’t what I expected, but … it’s good.”

  She turned in his arms and looked up into his eyes. His brow was creased, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied her. “You’re already more than I hoped for,” he said. “Is this how it’s supposed to feel to find your mate, do you think? I mean, we’ve barely known each other for a few hours, and it feels like you belong in my life.”

  “Your mate …” she started, then bit her lip, looking down as she recalled the day she’d met Talon. “No, it doesn’t quite feel the same, but this is special, whatever it is that’s between us. I know that much.”

  He pulled back from her slightly, frowning. “What do you mean, it doesn’t? How do you know? You aren’t mated, clearly. Neither am I. Because if we’d met our mates, we wouldn’t be here … Would we?”

  Simina’s stomach dropped. Right, the getting-to-know-each-other part. That had to happen sooner rather than later, if they were going to make this work. She sighed and reached for the other robe that conveniently hung from a hook at the side of the door leading into the cabin. Scents of the delicious breakfast that awaited them drifted out from the interior.

  “Let’s not do this on an empty stomach,” she said, turning back to him and handing him the robe. “There’s a reason I went to Gerri with a request to find someone to father a child with. I have a feeling you have your own reasons for making a similar request. She no doubt matched us because of that, but there is more to us than our craving to become parents.”

  He pressed his lips together and nodded, took the robe from her, and deftly shrugged into it. He tied it loosely around his waist, but she’d noticed the distinct lack of arousal before he covered himself. There were complicated depths to this man she hoped he’d be willing to share, but as much as she dreaded delving into her own painful past, she had to remind herself to go easy on him.

  He opened the glass door for her and she stepped into the small cabin, marveling at the spectacular sunrise vista filling the entire glass wall where it overlooked the valley they’d flown through to get here. Within the cabin was a small table, set for two with several covered dishes that still radiated heat. On one wall was a huge bed, covered in a down comforter and several big pillows, and on the opposite side was a big fireplace, blazing and warming the place to a cozy temperature that would be conducive to disrobing, if they desired.

  One corner of the room had a doorway that Simina peered through, discovering a spacious bathroom with a big sunken tub that had an equally unimpeded view of the mountains through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  It was the perfect romantic mountaintop retreat. Unfortunately she didn’t think they’d get to the romance quite so soon, if at all, after he learned what had brought
her here.

  Veryl remained silent but attentive, pulling out the chair for her just as he had at dinner, then seating himself across from her. He removed the covers on their food and set them aside, then rested his hands on either side of his plate and looked at her.

  “Just tell me one thing before we eat. Do you want a mate, or do you just want a stud to get you pregnant?”

  She blinked in surprise at the blunt question, not sure whether she should be offended. Flustered, she reached for the carafe of coffee and poured herself a cup. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive. I mean, of course I want a mate. I can’t have a baby without one. But I don’t just want you for your sperm. We have a connection. I’m happy about that, aren’t you?”

  He buttered a slice of toast and bit into it, chewing ferociously. For some reason he was angry, or hurt … She couldn’t tell which.

  “You sounded like you knew what it was like to find a mate. How do you know?”

  Simina closed her eyes. “Right. That. Um … I did know someone who I felt that kind of bond with. We never mated, though.”

  “Why not? You and I have some kind of connection, I agree, but you made it sound like it was different—not the real thing, maybe. Why aren’t you with him, whoever he is?” Tension radiated from him, his eyes flashing with emotion. He kept eating, seeming to almost unconsciously shovel the food into his mouth and chew as he waited for her answer.

  He was a stress-eater, she realized, and for some reason she found the fact endearing. She did the same thing, usually, but the plate of deliciously scented waffles in front of her would have to wait. She braced herself for the confession.

  “He died.”

  Veryl froze mid-chew. He closed his eyes, his brow creasing again. In pain, or shame, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he instantly seemed to get it. He set his knife and fork down gently beside his plate and slowly opened his eyes.

  He didn’t say anything for a moment—just continued chewing, and then swallowed and took a deep breath. “I am sorry. You loved him, didn’t you?”

  “Deeply. It was … difficult. We’d made so many plans. He always wanted kids, and so did I. The day I lost him, he made me promise that I wouldn’t give up on that dream. That I would become a mother someday.” She ran out of steam and simply lifted one shoulder and let it fall, then distracted herself from his pitying stare by digging into her food.

  “I get it,” he said. “Not the part about losing him, but about why we seem to have only half a connection. Maybe that’s all either of us has to give, but it’s the kind of connection I’d want.”

  “What kind would that be?” she asked.

  “The kind that makes me want to … I don’t know, just hold you. Will you let me just hold you, Simina?”

  “I would like that,” she said.

  Veryl pushed back from the table and canted his chair to make room, then patted his lap and opened his arms. She went to him and sank into his embrace, her entire body folding into him like she belonged there. And oh, did it feel good. Like coming home had once felt when Talon had been alive. Warm and welcoming and filled with love. Before she knew it, she was crying—at the long-missed memory, and just as much at the rediscovery of that feeling in the arms of this virtual stranger.

  Veryl held her tighter, stroking her hair and shoulders, making soft shushing sounds in between light kisses on her forehead. Why couldn’t this lovely man fulfill all those needs in her that Talon had? She felt something, that was undeniable, but what she felt was only a piece of the whole package she’d had with her dead lover.

  Still, she thought what he’d awoken in her was enough. He was everything she believed she’d want in the man who’d be the father of her children.

  The flood of emotion soon dwindled, but Veryl still held tight. Finally she sniffled and lifted her tear-streaked face to look at him.

  “I’m so sorry. I’ve probably ruined our date.”

  “Bullshit,” he said. “I got you into my lap, so that’s a step in the right direction.”

  Simina laughed. “So this was a ploy for you to get your hands on me, was it?” Just then her stomach rumbled a loud protest at being denied food when it was within reach.

  Veryl’s brows lifted, but when she moved to stand, he held tight. “Not a chance. You need to be fed. It’s my fault you haven’t eaten.”

  He reached across the table for her mostly full plate and proceeded to cut a bite-sized chunk from her waffle, spear it with the fork, and hold it up in front of her.

  She stared at it in surprise. “Are you serious?”

  “Hurry and open up before the syrup goes everywhere. I am not above licking it off you, if it comes to that.”

  Her eyes widened, but she opened up and he popped the morsel into her mouth. He insisted on feeding her the entire serving, bite by bite, until the plate was clean.

  “You really didn’t have to do that,” she said after he’d popped the last fresh strawberry into her mouth and she’d chewed and swallowed it.

  “You needed it. I guess I needed to give it to you. It just seemed like a no-brainer. Is that a mate thing?”

  Simina smiled. “Yeah. That’s a mate thing.”

  He grew serious as he studied her. “Good. Because I like how it feels to hold you. To take care of you.”

  “Me too,” she said, her gaze fixed on his. They were close enough for her to be enveloped in his warmth and the spicy, clean scent of his bare skin beneath the robe. His lips parted and he swallowed, his gaze darting to her mouth. Simina was suddenly hyper conscious of his big hand on her thigh, his other one cupped over one hip to hold her on his lap. There was more to the bond between mates than that need to give—to provide for the other person. She suddenly craved more than the comfort of his arms and her fingers itched for something more tactile—more indulgent.

  She slid both hands up his chest and threaded her fingers into his thick, dark hair. He closed his eyes, and a low rumble rose in his throat as she petted his silky locks, then clutched at the back of his neck and pulled him close.

  Their lips met with a soft press of supple flesh. He opened his mouth with a rough growl, his hand rising to hold the back of her head as he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

  The sensations that washed through her were strangely foreign. Arousal was only part of it, but what struck her was the reverence in his touch, a detail so reflective of the way Talon had touched her, it startled her coming from a man she knew so little about.

  She pushed away from him abruptly, breathless from his kiss and from the shock of that revelation.

  “I want to make love to you, Simina. Will you let me?”

  Her heart pounded, her gaze darting to the bed. Too soon? She wasn’t a prude but the way he’d said it had her in a near panic. No … it was the words he’d used that bothered her. She wasn’t ready for that kind of sentiment, no matter how right it sounded coming from his lips. Making love wasn’t what she needed yet. Not from him.

  “No. That’s not what I want,” she said.

  His face fell, and his hand dropped from her shoulder as he seemed to withdraw. “Sorry … I thought …”

  This craving for what he had to offer felt all wrong, and yet it was so strong it terrified her. She wasn’t ready. Desperate for some kind of control over the situation, she clutched at both sides of his head and captured his lips in a hungry kiss.

  He returned the kiss with a muffled grunt of surprise, and stared at her in confusion when she pulled away, her lips tingling from the force of their brief melding.

  “I don’t want you to make love to me. I want you to fuck me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Veryl’s insides lit like lightning had struck, his cock rousing to painful hardness. Simina reminded him of Dez when the hedonistic dragon had his mind set on something he wanted. That Veryl was what she wanted drove him
wild. How he would have loved to be the object of that kind of lust from his teammates. The connection he already had with her ran deep, he could tell, but that growing bond was a far cry from the all-encompassing sense of completion he knew was possible with Dez and Cato—if only they were willing.

  But to hear her say those words was like a dream come true. Now that she’d spoken them, he could almost imagine that a more complete bond was possible. Not just the mutual fulfillment of some deep, biological need to procreate, nor even the satisfaction of knowing your partner was emotionally in sync with you, but that bond of raw, physical hunger for another person, and knowing they felt the same and craved the satisfaction of obliterating that hunger together.

  He hooked his arms beneath her and rose in one smooth motion, bending to capture her mouth with his again. She clung to him, hands digging into his shoulders as she twisted and hooked her legs around his waist. He lost his bearings as he swiveled from the table and his legs bumped against the big bed. Losing his balance, he toppled backward, holding her against him as the fluffy softness of the mattress caught them.

  Veryl grunted at the impact, but didn’t release her. She scrabbled at the lapels of his robe, pushed them apart, and spread her hands over his broad chest. With a sigh, she broke their kiss and stared down at him, the hunger still blazing in her eyes as her palms roamed over his sturdy frame.

  “Need to see you,” she murmured, shifting backward and pulling his robe farther apart as she went. Her bottom rubbed against his hips as she moved, his erection getting a sweet taste of long-missed contact with a female, even if it was blocked by the barrier of their garments. But within seconds she’d tossed his robe wide open and was eagerly taking him in.

  If it weren’t for the heat in her silver gaze, her exploration might have seemed almost clinical, her palms gliding over his torso, touching every inch from his collarbone down to his tense belly. He was about to rib her again about wanting a stud when she roamed south of his navel, brushing her fingers over the tops of his thighs.