by Ann Gimpel
“Where are we going?” Jonathan asked, hiding a smile. Kheladin and Tarika were eminently likeable, yet fierce at the same time. Glad they’re on our side, even if they do like to indulge in saying I told you so.
“Good question.” Maggie pursed her lips. “Where do you live?”
“I have a flat here in Inverness, very close to the town center.”
“Mauvreen and Gran are in Fort William at Mauvreen’s. I know they want us to join them.” She dragged a cell phone out of a pocket, looked at it, and grimaced. “Five a.m. No wonder I’m beat.”
Jonathan didn’t have to dig very deep to realize he was desperate for some private time with his new mate. “I’d like to bring Britta to my house, at least for a little while. We’ll take care to ward it.”
“Let’s do this,” Kheladin suggested. “Tarika and I will join Mauvreen and Mary Elma in Fort William. You four show up this evening, and then we’ll strategize.”
Maggie laughed. “By then my grandmother will already have a plan firmly in place.”
“If we doona agree, we’ll craft something different.” Britta shrugged. “Majority rule.”
“Best of luck. Gran’s her own majority and pretty stubborn. Um, do you actually think the Celts will do anything about the Morrigan?” Maggie asked pointedly. “Seems to me this is just a roundabout way of suckering us into helping them out.”
“What would ye have us do?” Britta caught Maggie’s gaze and held it.
A sheepish grin spread over her face. “Good point. I guess we’d go after Rhukon, Connor, and their dragons, no matter what the Celts told us.”
“Aye.” Britta agreed. “Even if they do nothing about the Morrigan, if we can cut the knees from beneath her subordinates, we will dilute her chokehold on Earth.”
“This conversation is in danger of becoming circular.” Lachlan winked lewdly. “I propose we regroup tomorrow morning. ’Tisn’t as if Maggie and I have had much time to enjoy one another, either.”
“’Twill feel strange to be separated from Tarika for any time at all,” Britta murmured and walked to the dragon’s side. “I am fine with gathering in Fort William this evening. ’Twill give us the whole of the day with our new mates.”
“Aye, it does feel odd to have the dragon apart from you,” Lachlan said, “but ye’ll feel the bond, no matter how far away ye are one from the other.”
“If you’re lonely for Tarika,” Jonathan moved to Britta, capturing her between his body and the dragon’s side, “we can join her in Fort William whenever you want.”
“Thank you.” Britta hugged him. “There is much here that is new. ’Twill take getting used to.”
You’re not kidding. Dragons, gods, the Morrigan, being as good as married…
“I doona know about the rest of you,” Lachlan said, “but I’m thinking we should leave while we can without having a direct confrontation with the crow.”
“Agreed.” Britta untangled herself from Jonathan and opened her arms to Tarika. The dragon bent low and bathed everyone in a blast of steam. “I love you,” Britta murmured. “We will meet again verra soon.”
“Count on it.” The dragon shut one scaled eyelid in a parody of a wink.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Kheladin promised and shuffled close. “Link to my mind, Tarika. I know where we are bound.” The air took on a shimmery aspect and the dragons vanished.
Britta laid a hand over her chest. Sensing her uncertainty at being separated from Tarika, Jonathan gathered her close. He glanced at Lachlan and Maggie. “I know where Mauvreen’s is. We shall see you there before too long.”
“Even if ye dinna know, I can always find Tarika.” Britta spoke softly against his shoulder.
Now why didn’t I think of that? “You’re not the only one dealing with new things,” he said. “Of course you could find Tarika through your bond. I feel like an idiot.”
“I dinna mean—”
“Sssh.” He kissed her hair. “No offense taken.”
“We’re leaving,” Maggie announced. “Britta, would you like me to bring a few more clothes to Mauvreen’s since everything of mine fits you?”
Britta moved out of the circle of Jonathan’s arms. “Aye. If it wouldna be too much trouble, I’d dearly appreciate the kindness.” A smile lit her eyes; burnished copper flecks warmed their golden hue.
“Consider it done.”
Jonathan felt the sting of magic. In seconds, Lachlan and Maggie were gone. “Shall we follow them?”
“Will ye send me an image of where we’re going?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll simply take us there. Ready?” She squared her shoulders and nodded. He thought about the best place to bring them out and targeted his living room. He hadn’t thought to ward his home before leaving, so there was always the slightest chance one of the wyverns—he still wanted to call them bad dragons—might be waiting for them, along with their mages.
Not much I can do about that. If I aim for another location, we’ll risk exposure when we walk to my flat. He girded himself for combat. His virtual gaming world had come alive, and he felt woefully unprepared. At least they were still solidly within the hour the Celts had promised, so the Morrigan shouldn’t be a problem.
Britta shivered. Apparently, she’d been in his mind. “I’ve always hated the crow.”
“Why?”
“Ye should see her on the field of battle, blood streaming from her beak and feathers. She glories in death. ’Tisna natural.”
“If luck is with us, we won’t have to think of anything but one another for at least a little while.” Jonathan held out his arms; she walked into them, and he summoned the magic to transport them from the dragon’s cave.
•●•
Britta inhaled deeply and then did it again. Jonathan’s scent brought a smile to her face and made her feel all melty inside. He smelled heavenly, like musk and bay leaves, with a sweet, cinnamon edge. She burrowed deeper into his arms. Not having Tarika by her side felt strange, as if she were missing a limb. Lachlan had been right; she sensed the bond, yet she missed the dragon’s presence.
’Tis all for the good. We will be far stronger with the current binding because we can fight as separate entities.
Och aye, I can reason with myself all I want. The long and short of it is, I miss her. From what she’d seen of modern buildings, none were large enough to accommodate Tarika, but the dragon could still fold herself within Britta, just as they’d done before. Aye, and ’twill work the other way too.
The blackness surrounding them faded. Britta blinked as a room took form. A room that smelled just like the man holding her. She readied magic in case, but nothing threatened them. Britta wriggled in Jonathan’s arms. Craning her neck, she gazed at an oblong space with leather furniture and polished wooden floors. The walls were lined with overflowing bookshelves. Things she didn’t recognize sat on tables.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Jonathan asked. “Your mind’s been busy, but I’ve stayed out of it to give you privacy.”
Britta leaned back and looked at him. “Ye needna do so. After all, we are mated and should have no secrets. Aye, I do miss Tarika. ’Tis worse than I imagined, yet not so bad I canna stand it.”
He tilted her chin with a finger and held her gaze. “If you want, we can draw more magic. Just say the word. Next stop could be Fort William and Mauvreen’s house.”
She narrowed her eyes, considering. “Nay. I have had centuries to build what is between Tarika and me. Ye and I need time as well.”
A heartfelt smile blazed from his eyes and illuminated the classic bone structure of his face. She knew he’d made the offer because he cared about her but was relieved she’d chosen to remain just the two of them.
“Give me a moment to ward the place.” His power surged; she joined hers to it. The two together would make stronger shielding. His smile morphed into a grin. “Thanks. I’m not used to working with anyone else, but I see the advantages. Can I offer you someth
ing to drink or eat?”
“Aye, but first, tell me what that black box is just there. And the other, which looks a bit like it, on the far side of the room.”
“The first is a computer monitor. What powers it is beneath the desk. The other screen is a television.”
“Computers. Isna that what ye design or build?”
He took her hand and pulled her gently toward an elaborately carved desk made of dark wood. Kneeling, he tapped a box she hadn’t seen. “This is a central processing unit. It has a circuit board inside that determines how the computer does things. I design circuit boards. They’re kind of like electronic brains.”
She knelt next to him and ran her hands over the box. “Open it,” she demanded. “I wish to see.” He unclipped metal latches and lifted one side of the box away. The thing whirred to life, ablaze with small lights. “Och.” She drew back. “What manner of arcane magic is this?”
“Sometimes it feels like magic run amok when things aren’t going well, but it’s just a bunch of circuits operated by logic. The only time magic ever comes into play is when I curse the damned thing.”
She snorted. “I need a dictionary to talk with you.”
He punched a cunningly recessed black button, and the box quieted. “Come on.” He straightened and helped her up. “I have a better idea. Let’s have something to eat and drink and then—”
“Drink, aye. Let us toast our mating. I doona wish to waste time eating. The witches will have food once we get to Fort William.” She inhaled sharply. “’Twill take time for us to get used to one another.”
He stepped around her and pulled a bottle of spirits and two shot glasses from a cupboard. Filling the glasses, he handed her one and clinked his against it. “To us.”
“Aye, to the love that will grow between us.” She tipped her glass back and drank. Whiskey burned as it traveled down her throat to her stomach.
He set his empty glass on a side table and focused his amber gaze on her. “What you said before, about getting used to each other… I never want to get too used to you.” The heat of his need pierced her from where he stood. “I’ve held this sense of awe, of wonder, ever since you invited me into your body. If I could, I’d hang onto it forever.”
“Aye, the soul of a poet.” She placed her glass next to his, closed the short distance between them, and opened her arms. He wound his around her and kissed her, tongue probing, teeth nipping. A jolt of sexual yearning zapped her. The clothes between them were first an impediment and then an annoyance as she struggled with unfamiliar fastenings.
“Let me.” He undid whatever held her breeks in place. She pushed them down her hips, and they tangled in her shoes. “Hold on.” He scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, walked to the far end of the room, down a short hallway, and through another door.
His bedchamber. Tall dressers made of light-colored wood graced two walls. Another computer monitor, twin to the one she’d seen in the living room, sat atop a small table with one chair. Papers were piled high on the table, but the rest of the room wasn’t cluttered. He laid her on the bed and bent to remove her shoes. Once they were out of the way, he pulled her breeks the rest of the way off. “I can’t believe how stunning you are.” He ran his hands the length of her body almost reverently.
“Ye still have your clothes on.” Her mouth was dry; it was hard to get the words out.
“So I do.” He sat on the edge of the bed, gaze never leaving her, and removed his boots. They made little clunking noises as they hit the floor. He stood, undid his breeks, and stepped out of them. His smallclothes followed.
She motioned with one hand; her mage light flared into brightness. “I would see you, all of you.”
He dropped his jacket over a chair, unbuttoned his shirt, and slid it off his shoulders. Britta had to remind herself to breathe. He had the most incredible body with dusky, golden skin that gleamed in the glow from her light. Well-muscled shoulders and legs, slender hips, and a sprinkling of dark hair around copper-colored nipples captivated her. His flat stomach was corded with muscle. Jutting out from his body, his cock twitched, hard and ready, heavy with need. He unbraided his hair. Freed, the dark strands fell halfway to his waist.
“I canna stand the distance between us.” She patted the bed next to her and pushed the covers back.
He smiled crookedly. “You still have your shirt on.”
Britta sat, tugged off her jacket, and pulled the stretchy shirt over her head. Her breasts ached, the nipples hard points of desire. “If ye doona come to me, I’ll—”
He was by her side in a trice, tracing one erect nipple with a fingertip. ”You’ll what?”
She opened her arms, too overcome with desire to speak.
Chapter Nine
Her arousal ignited his own, like tinder to flame. Not that his needed a boost. The way things were looking, he’d be lucky not to come before he even got inside her. Lavender, amber, and musk tickled his nose. The hotter she got, the more intense her scent became. It surrounded him, almost like a living creature, caressing his soul. He gazed at her, still unable to believe she was his. What a breathtaking woman. He fitted his body to hers and kissed her, tasting the single malt Scotch they’d drunk. She wove her arms around his back and buried her hands in his hair. Her body writhed beneath him as she captured one of his legs between hers and pressed the hot wetness of her core against his thigh.
Her full breasts strained against him. He sank his tongue into her mouth, and she wound her fingers tighter into his hair. He’d never kissed anyone like this before, where the only thing in the world was the taste of her lips against his, the sweet warmth of her mouth and tongue. He rolled her onto her back. She moved her legs up and back, and then circled his waist. He wanted to do so many things: kiss her, suckle her nipples, move lower and taste her musky center, but his cock had a mind of its own. Once she opened her legs, it seated itself in her opening. Still, he tried to hold back, to savor the incredible heat coursing through him, setting fire to every nerve ending.
Her hips heaved and rolled beneath him. Britta ran her hands down his back until they settled on his ass. She gripped him and pulled hard. He held fast. Once the magic that was her pussy encased him, he’d come. She broke their kiss and nipped his lower lip. “I’m going to spend. I would do so with you inside me.” Her voice was rough with passion.
Inch-by-inch, he lowered himself into her, riding a ragged edge of control. He was damned if he wouldn’t last long enough for her to come at least once. Jonathan withdrew until just his cockhead danced around her entrance. At the bottom of his third full stroke, her muscles clenched again and again. She cried out and clawed his back.
His balls snugged against his body and control fled, blown away like so much fairy dust. He balanced on his arms so he could look at her beautiful, passion-splotched face and breasts and withdrew, but not all the way. Because he couldn’t wait any longer, Jonathan drove himself into her again and again. The orgasm he’d tried to ride herd on was so close his balls ached. Finally, he couldn’t stand any more sensation and juddered hard inside her. His semen burned as it burst from his body in gouts of pleasure so intense his vision grayed at the edges.
She gripped his hips and ground herself against the base of his cock. “Aye,” she moaned. “Again.” Her legs tightened around him, and he willed himself to keep moving until the tension in her muscles relaxed after a second climax ripped through her. He collapsed, murmuring endearments and covering her face and neck with kisses, overcome by the intensity they’d just shared.
Jonathan had learned to keep a firm grip on his emotions as a child. It had served him well as a survival skill because his father was so rarely available in the sense most parents probably were for their children. Britta blew the lid off his carefully crafted emotional detachment. He wanted to hold her, care for her, protect her from harm, watch her belly swell with their children…
“Och aye, and I would be wanting those things as well.” She smi
led and rolled from beneath him so they lay side-by-side.
Heat rose to his face. “I guess you were inside my head.”
“Of course. Isna that what lovers do? Share each other’s innermost thoughts?”
“Sure, but I was raised in an era where we use words for that.”
She arched a brow. “Would ye prefer I stayed out of your mind, then?”
Jonathan thought about it. “No. I want just what we have.” He laid a hand on the side of her face. “I have no secrets from you.”
“Good. ’Tis the way things should be.” She snuggled deeper into his arms.
“How would you know the way things ought to be?” he teased.
“I may have been unmated, but I have eyes and ears.” Her breathing settled into a regular pattern. He cradled her against him, knowing he should sleep, too, but the wonder of the woman in his arms kept him awake. From confirmed loner to sharing his life with not just a woman but also her dragon, was quite a shift. Despite not knowing Britta for long, he couldn’t imagine not having her by his side. He looked forward to getting to know Tarika too. That dragon and woman had maintained independent personalities over their long years of linkage amazed him.
His thoughts strayed to the dangers they faced. Somehow, he didn’t believe the Morrigan or the red and black wyverns—and their dragon shifter mages—would simply roll over on their backs and say I surrender.
“Of course they willna do any such thing,” she said, voice fuzzed with sleep.
“Hush.” He stroked her hair back from her forehead and tangled his fingers in its silky strands. “Go back to sleep.”
“There are times for such things. Now isna one of them.” Sandwiched between their bodies, his cock stirred to life. She butted her pelvis against it. “I know I said we could wait to eat, but I would welcome a bit of a meal along with another jot of whiskey.”
His stomach growled in agreement. He laughed. “Pitched battle between body parts. My stomach wants food. My cock wants more of you.”
She slipped a hand between them and curled her fingers around his shaft. “Food for the body now. Food for our love later.”