Sated: A Reverse Harem Dragon Shifter Fairytale Book (Goldilocks and The Three Dragons Trilogy 3)

by Delia Castel

  “I have news,” he said, without looking up. “Please, sit.”

  She lowered herself onto the leather sofa, wiping her sweaty palms on the knees of her breeches. Matheson sat on the other end.

  Polaris lowered the parchment. “I will not go into details, but there is corruption in the palace. A servant or guard should have seen Uncle Hertz carrying you off and raised the alarm, but rogue elements somehow managed to secure his escape route.”

  Marigold nodded. “I thought something similar at the time. A wolf shifter at the door to the hallway told Governor Hertz he had five minutes before the servants would return.”

  “This is all very interesting,” said Matheson. “But Uncle Hertz has just threatened to have Berrin’s wings clipped if Marigold doesn’t hand herself over in three days.”

  Squirming in her seat, she tamped down the urge to be sick. She peeked under her lashes at Polaris to find him clenching the parchment. A vein in his temple throbbed. “Uncle told you this?”

  “In so many words,” she replied.

  He closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath through flared nostrils. “Due to Berrin’s early… development, the elders have agreed to accept him as a special entry into the King’s Regiment.”

  Her heart leapt, and she leaned forward, clutching the arm of the leather sofa. “Will that save him?”

  “It will take him out of the hands of the Sheriff Court justice system and into that of the King’s Regiment,” Polaris replied. “He may start a week or so in solitary confinement. The penalty for cuckolding in the Regiment is lenient.”

  She glanced at Matheson, because looking at Polaris was too difficult. Last night had been different. She had been overwhelmed and desperate. After having been paralyzed and abducted by Governor Hertz, and then thrown into a Berrin’s dragon body to rescue herself, only to lose him, she had lost the ability to cope. The trauma of those events had outweighed the betrayal of Polaris’ infidelity, and she had needed someone to hold her who felt somewhat like Berrin.

  This morning had been awkward, because the sting of his duplicity had sunk in, and she could barely look at Polaris. Riding on his back hadn’t been the exhilarating adventure she’d experienced the night of the Florus Dancehall. It had been a reminder of everything she had lost.

  Matheson spoke first. “Wait a minute. Doesn’t that mean he’ll start a lengthy training regime?”

  Marigold’s heart sank, and her gaze dropped to her lap. It was a choice between letting Berrin go and only seeing him once a year or having him castrated and by her side. The first wasn’t ideal, and the latter would make them both miserable.

  “It won’t last as long as mine,” replied Polaris. “He’s already achieved his transformation. The elder who carried out his entrance exam predicted that he will become the youngest General in the Regiment.”

  Pressing his hands to his knees, Matheson pulled himself to his feet. “The choice is obvious. No dragon would ever choose a wing-clipping, and joining the Regiment is something Berrin has wanted since before he went to St. Fafnir’s. You’re his guardian. Sign him up.”

  She stared after Matheson as he strolled out of the room, leaving Polaris and Marigold alone. Apprehension writhed in her belly like a clump of worms, and she pulled at a loose thread on her sleeve.

  “Marigold,” said Polaris, “I—”

  “It’s all right.” Shooting out of her seat, she snatched her gaze away from him. “Just focus on Berrin. I’m going to see if Nanny needs any help in the kitchens.”

  She hurried towards the door, only for strong hands to grab her upper arms. “It is not all right,” said Polaris from between his teeth. “You feel that I have wronged you, but let me—”

  Anger exploded across her chest, heating up her face. “You make it sound like what we did in the ballroom meant nothing, and I’m being silly for getting attached to you!”

  “That isn’t what I meant.” His warm body heated her back, his lips pressed against her temple, and his arm wrapped around her solar plexus. “Please, stay and listen to me.”

  She bristled. “It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice with you holding on to me so tight.”

  “Has it occurred to you that I don’t want to let you go?” he murmured.

  “Getting betrothed to a Princess without telling me is a fine way to show it!”

  Polaris lifted her off her feet and carried her to the sofa, where he sat, nestling her on his lap. She didn’t bother to struggle against him. There was no point, because she wanted to hear what he had to say, and her body had been crying out for his touch since he’d pulled her out of that awful carriage.

  “I’m not betrothed to Princess Snowdrop,” he said.

  “King Vulcan would disagree.” She would have tried to escape his grip for that outright lie, but the effort would be futile. He was too strong. Her backside was flush against his body, and she wasn’t about to give him a cheap thrill by wriggling against his crotch.

  A long, weary sigh slid from his lips. “The King is… unwell and desperate to be reunited with his daughter. She’s been sentenced to death for treason, and he believes that marrying her to a General of his Regiment will redeem her.”

  “He told me he was considering mating her to Berrin as well.”

  “Word has obviously reached the King about his potential,” he muttered.

  Marigold huffed. Polaris sounded genuine enough, but there were still gaps in his story. “I don’t understand why he thinks you’re betrothed. Didn’t you refuse when he asked?”

  “It is hard for a sworn officer of the King’s Regiment to refuse his orders. The magic of the Vulcan flamberge binds us to him in loyalty.”

  Marigold glanced at the wavy sword on the cherrywood mantle above them. “Is that also a flamberge?”

  “Yes.” He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “Prince Auburn, our first ancestor, used the cursed blade to drive out the fairies.”

  “Oh.” Turning around, she peered up, giving the sword closer scrutiny. “It doesn’t look—”

  “Don’t touch it unless you want to suffer a decades’ long wasting sickness and excruciating pain thereafter.”

  Her eyes widened. “Did anyone ever—”

  He placed his fingers on her lips. “Matheson, and he won’t thank you for bringing up the subject.” He wrapped both arms around her waist, bringing her closer into his body. “I’m truly sorry for the distress the announcement caused. Believe me when I say I have no intention of marrying Princess Snowdrop.”

  His intoxicating, smoky scent filled her nostrils, and she closed her eyes and relaxed into his embrace. “How can you refuse the King if you’re sworn to obey him?”

  He sighed. “With great difficulty. However, with a soul as beautiful as you driving my actions, it will be a painless effort.”

  The ice that had encased her heart since King Vulcan’s announcement thawed. Marigold opened her eyes, twisted around, and pressed her palms on his chest. “Do you mean it?”

  Polaris turned his stormy, indigo eyes to hers. The intensity of his stare made her heart flip. “With all my being. I have never met a she-dragon like you, let alone hoped to be mated to one.” He cupped her cheek. “We may not yet have the deep connection you share with Berrin, but I would like to fix that.”

  “But everyone knows about your supposed betrothal now. Won’t that cause problems?”

  “I have sent several subordinates out to search for Princess Snowdrop. Many of them are strong and handsome enough to stand in as a replacement for me.”

  Clenching her teeth, she drew in a slow breath before letting it out. It wasn’t like Polaris to make such a flimsy suggestion. A dragon like him wasn’t so replaceable. “King Vulcan wants you specifically. How many other Generals are young and handsome with similar family connections?”

  “None,” he replied. “But if I can help the King return to normal, he will realize the error in betrothing me to his daughter.”

  Mar
igold glanced away. “I don’t know…”

  “The second and most important prong of my plan is for us to form the same kind of bond as Waldhar and Freya.”

  Marigold chewed her lip. “They’re the people in that ancient ballad.”

  “That’s right. Freya was a spirit dragon, just like Queen Reina, Princess Snowdrop’s mother.”

  “Do you think that will make a difference?”

  “It’s the most sacred bond a dragon can make. Nobody would tear apart a pair who could share each other’s power.”

  Her heart sank. “But that’s exactly what Governor Hertz has done to Berrin and Me.”

  “By noon tomorrow, there will be no more Governor Hertz.”

  “What do you mean?” She drew back to look into his eyes.

  “I have delivered my official challenge to fight him in the dueling pits.”

  She gasped. “Really?”

  He nodded. “That dragon has become too much of a nuisance. I cannot allow him to live after every sin he has committed against this family.”

  Warmth filled Marigold’s chest, melting the last traces of the ice. Polaris would be strong enough to beat Governor Hertz. Not only was he the youngest General, but she had seen him fight a she-dragon nearly twice his size. Governor Hertz, on the other hand, was a gaunt, foppish reprobate, addicted to papaver and distilled wormwood. Last night, he had thrown Marigold at Polaris, rather than fight or try to escape with her.

  A shadow of doubt dimmed her hope, and she bit down on her lip. “He’ll cheat, won’t he?”

  “I have recruited King’s Regiment-aligned wizards to perform inspections and to halt the duel at the first signs of foul play.”

  “You’re fantastic!” If Polaris won the duel, then Berrin wouldn’t need to join the King’s Regiment, and they wouldn’t need to spend the year apart from each other. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips on his.

  Polaris growled low in his chest. His hands slipped down her back to cup her buttocks, and he stood. “We should start working on strengthening our bond right away.”

  Arousal pooled between Marigold’s legs. “Here?”

  He walked to the desk and laid her on her back. Marigold wriggled, enjoying the warm, smooth surface of the wood through her linen shirt. She toed off her boots and let them drop to the rug, not wanting them to slow him down.

  Polaris stared down at her, fire blazing in his dark eyes. Heart thudding, Marigold whimpered, waiting to see what he would do next. She would have said something saucy, but her throat had dried.

  He stepped back, undoing the ruby-red jacket of his King’s Regiment uniform with more speed and efficiency than he had the day before in the mansion’s ballroom. As each garment fell on the rug, exposing more of that broad, strong body, desire swirled low in her belly. His linen under breeches fell away, revealing a thick, erect organ standing in a thatch of dark hair.

  Marigold’s lips quivered. She didn’t know if she wanted to taste him or have him ravish her until her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Without knowing she was doing so, she spread her hands out curling her fingers in an impatient gesture for him to come closer.

  His eyes darkened. “You are exquisite.”

  Marigold licked her lips in anticipation of a whirlwind of pleasure. “Why don’t you taste me?”

  Polaris’ lips spread into a grin. It was wide and wicked and wilder than any expression she’d seen him wear. “I intend to feast on your body.” His voice was a low growl. “And when I have reduced you to pliant whimpers, I will bury myself in your hot little quim and plunder what is left.”

  She caught her breath, never having heard intentions so graphic. However, the words send a thrill through her core that had her arching her back, stretching the fabric of her shirt over her stiffened nipples.

  His eyes dropped down to her breasts, but he reached for the waistband of her breeches. After unbuttoning them with unusual speed, he tugged them off, leaving her exposed and aching for his tongue.

  He pulled up a chair with the dignity and grace of a gentleman about to dine, reached under her thighs, and lowered his face between her legs. The first swipe of his tongue made her shudder, and she clenched his shoulders as though needing to hold on for dear life.

  “Mmmm,” he growled. The vibrations reverberated against her sex. “Delicious!” He lapped at her with a tongue that didn’t quite feel human. Not only did pliant bumps provide the most exquisite friction, but it seemed to be everywhere: circling her nub, teasing her sensitive folds, and lapping at her entrance with its tip.

  Marigold squeezed her eyes shut, biting down hard on her lower lip. Her pulse pounded in her ears, a mixture of arousal and excitement and trepidation. He had not been exaggerating when he’d said he would feast on her. Each movement of his tongue felt like being devoured by a hungry, slathering beast. Spreading her legs further, she moaned.

  He lifted one leg over his shoulder, digging his fingers into the flesh of her thigh, while his other hand stretched up to knead at her breast.

  “Oh!” Sweat broke out across her skin. Each movement of his tongue and roll of her nipples between his fingers generated bright sparks of pleasure behind her eyes and on every nerve ending in and around her pelvis. The muscles of her core spasmed, silently urging that tongue to breach her, fill her, reduce her to a boneless mess for him to plunder.

  “When you come undone,” he snarled into her folds, “I’m going to take you, hard and deep over this desk.” Redoubling his efforts, he tightened his grip on her nipple.

  Marigold cried out, grimacing at the intensity of the sensations. She shuddered and groaned against his mouth, jerking her hips as he held on tight to her trembling legs. Her head spun, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. All sensible thought had vanished, replaced by an acute concentration on the relentless tongue licking, flicking and circling, exploring all her secrets and extracting her most wanton moans.

  This strange state felt like being pulled deeper and deeper into a vortex of pleasure, never knowing when it would end or how far it would go before releasing her. It didn’t matter that she was drowning in ecstasy and writhing against its current. It continued in its relentless pursuit to drag her further into its depths.

  Then, when the sensations overflowed, something in her popped, releasing all that pressure in a whirl of pleasure so intense, it ripped a scream from her throat. Polaris’ tongue eased off, gently lapping at her fluids with noisy, appreciative moans. The muscles of her core pulsed in what felt like an endless series of spasms, each one spreading waves of rapture through her body.

  Marigold stared up at him through half-lidded eyes. Every limb felt satisfied and heavy, as though she really had swum against a strong current and was now resting safe on a dry bank. “Thank you,” she said through panting breaths. “I really needed that.”

  He stood, leaned over her body, and pressed his lips on hers. “It was my pleasure.”

  Before she could respond, the blunt head of his penis breached her opening. “Oh, Polaris!”

  He chuckled. It was a low, throaty sound. “I meant what I said earlier, Marigold,” he murmured into her ear. “Now it’s time for me to plunder that tight little quim.”

  If she’d had the energy to do so, she would have wrapped her arms and legs around his strong back and rocked against the massive, hot organ stretching her open. However, she was still recovering from being paralyzed, and the powerful orgasm had made her muscles limp.

  He circled his hips, opening her up with the most delicious of movements. She threw her head back, a panting, whimpering puddle of need. As her climax had not yet ebbed away, everywhere he touched set her nerves alight. After that amazing session in the ballroom, she didn’t think it was possible to feel more pleasure, but it felt like every part of her was now beautifully sensitive.

  “Are you ready?” he growled into her ear.

  A thrill of apprehension skittered across her skin. She knew what was coming and knew it wo
uld be wild and fast and hard, but a smile curved her lips. This was Polaris, who would take care of her. His tongue grazed her neck, a reminder of the intense pleasure she had experienced under his ministrations.

  Her breaths shallowed. “Give it to me.”

  He started with a gentle slide, grazing that sensitive spot he had teased the day before. She wriggled, trying to move into position. Polaris continued like this, keeping her suspended in a mixture of pleasure and frustration, teasing her, refilling the well of her arousal until she clenched her teeth and hissed, “More!”

  “More?” he murmured, humor lacing his voice.

  A breath puffed out from between her lips. “You said you would plunder me. I need it, now!”

  “As my mate commands.” Without breaking his stride, he snapped his hips, plunging into her and hitting that extra-sensitive spot. Hard.

  Heat flared across her insides, and her eyes bulged with shock. “Ah!”

  He held her in a tight grip, with one arm under the small of her back, and the other around her shoulders, holding her in place as he rocked her body with his hard thrusts.

  Every thrust brought flashes of pleasure through her body that felt like being struck by repeated bouts of lightning. She opened her mouth in a silent scream. If she hadn’t been a she-dragon, the heat of his passion would reduce her to cinders. Her limbs twitched, nerves set alight with pleasure.

  “You’re ours!”

  Her eyes watered. Her throat dried, but she managed to rasp, “Yours!”

  “Our mate,” he snarled.

  “Yes!”

  He sped up his thrusts, not giving her time to recover from each surge of sensation. Marigold couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even think. Not when every organ in her body felt ready to burst from this strange combination of heat and ecstasy.

  A sensation, somewhere on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain, rocked her core. Her muscles clamped so hard around his erection, Polaris stiffened and drew in a sharp breath. When she released him, harsh spasms, nothing like the usual pleasant flutters, clenched and unclenched around Polaris, each sending blazes of pleasure through her body.