by Eve Langlais
A flash of silver had caught his eye, and he had looked up to see Babette soaring in the sky, her bugling cry a challenge. Yet Maedoc was nowhere to be seen. The dragon mage had disappeared. Probably off to kill more people.
Luc cared not a whit about anyone else. He called Babette. “Something is ailing Elspeth. She fainted.”
Alighting in a gleam of silver scales, Babette cocked her head and trilled.
While her accent was quite American, he still understood the dragon-speak. He shook his head. “What if she needs more than sleep? On your television, they would take her to a hospital.”
That caused Babette to shift, and him to avert his gaze. “You can’t take a dragon to a human hospital. Especially not one having a fit. What if she accidentally changes?”
“What if she dies because we lack the proper medicine?” It’d happened in the dungeons. Common ailments that they once could cure, felling them. Making them an earlier victim to the suzerain.
“Then we know a field to bury her in.”
He glared hotly at Babette. “I thought she was your family.”
“She is. Which is how I know she’s tough.”
“Even the toughest sometimes require nurturing. She is coming home with me since you refuse to care for her.”
“What’s watching going to do? Either she dies, or she doesn’t.”
At that point, he’d swept Elspeth into his arms. Alfred remained parked by the side of the road. He sat behind the wheel, head tilted back, snoring.
During the ride home, while Babette regaled Alfred in the front, Luc sat in the back with Elspeth on his lap. Then he’d ended up in bed with her because she mewled, as if lost and scared. It drew out the protective side of him. He cradled her body with his own. Giving his warmth. Wondering what she’d seen.
Questioning what had happened to him.
And he wasn’t just talking about his evolving feelings for this woman and dragons in general.
He’d not forgotten how he’d almost managed the change in the field. He’d felt that fluttering second half of himself pulsing in his breast. Pushing to get out.
For a moment, it almost did. The idea of losing control, losing himself, made him glad that it had failed, even as he feared it trying again.
The wildness was awake inside him. Pulsing in his veins. Making him feel…alive.
So much so, that he wanted to act.
Especially now.
Elspeth crouched over him, brighter than the sun’s rays streaming through the windows. He’d finally started to leave the fabric panels pulled open when he realized that a light so bright wouldn’t crisp him to a strip of bacon. Now that brilliance illuminated her, more luminescent than any jewel.
He might not be a dragon, but in that moment, he coveted her. Wanted her all to himself. Yet, how would that work? He had little to offer. He commanded no legions. He couldn’t even protect her.
At this point, she was stronger than he. Perhaps it might have bothered another male. He’d seen some of the posturings on the screen and when he went out. But he’d grown up in a society based on mutual respect. Male or female, worth was based on intelligence and merit and skill.
Being intelligent meant knowing when to ask for help.
“Can I ask you something?” Luc said as she beamed down at him.
She wet her lips, a quick cock-hardening sweep of a pink tip over a full mouth. “Yes. Ask me.” She squirmed over him.
“Can you teach me to fight?”
“You want me to get physical with you?” Her lips quirked, and her eyes sparkled. She placed her hands on his chest and leaned forward, at the same time grinding down with her hips.
He lost all the blood to his brain when her lips came close enough that the heat of her words branded his skin.
“I’ll teach you. For a kiss.”
A price?
Then again, not really a price, more like an unexpected boon. Lessons in sparring and…
He gripped her and pulled her close, removing the space between them. The mash of lips a hard clash.
Clumsy idiot.
He tried to relax, but his muscles refused to obey. He remained tense.
He was totally ruining this.
Failing.
She would totally hate—
Her lips slanted over his, and her hands cupped his jaw. She feathered light embraces over his mouth before tugging his lower lip.
That caused a tremble to go through him.
She pulled his lip again, the tiny bite of her teeth something he felt right down to his cock.
Then she let go and pulled away.
He struggled to understand. His poor erection strained, screaming for relief.
But his relief was strutting to the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Breakfast, then training. Which means, get your sexy ass out of bed.”
“What if I changed my mind about the lessons and said you should return to bed?”
She cast him a saucy smirk over her shoulder. “I’ll come back and even share a shower if you pin me before the day is done.”
“I’m not interested in winning sexual favor.”
“Says the guy who wants me back in bed.” Elspeth leaned against the doorjamb, looking adorably tousled from sleep.
“I never claimed I didn’t want you. I very much do. But I want it to happen because it’s supposed to. Not on account of a wager.”
“You have morals.”
He wanted to sneer at the idea. His father had had morals, and look where it had gotten him and the rest.
It occurred to him more and more that perhaps the right choice was to adopt some of his father’s ideals and Mother’s proud spirit. Could he achieve a balance?
“We should find Alfred and see what he’s prepared.”
“The king of dodge.” She smiled with the cryptic remark before pivoting to head out the door, her hips a sashaying sway away from getting tossed back on the bed.
She moved fast. Too fast. He emerged from his room to find her doing handsprings down the hall. She hit the top of the stairs, held the newel post two-handed, legs above her, her strength incredible.
Tall, fit…mine…
She swung down, and for a moment, he held his breath. She caught the railing and with a hollered, “See you at the bottom,” slid down.
He raced down the hall and braked at the last moment, teetering at the top. Peering down in time to see Elspeth speeding toward the bottom newel post and yet, before she hit it, flipping off and hitting the floor in a solid, two-footed stance.
Show-off. She made it look so easy.
He recognized the jealousy for what it was and overcame it. Clapped instead. “That was excellent.”
“You try it,” she hollered.
Him, ride a railing? How utterly undignified.
“Don’t be scared.”
Did she impugn his manhood? This was now a matter of honor.
He eyed the contraption and ignored the distance between where he stood and the floor far below. He grabbed hold of the rail and swung himself onto it.
A little bit hard. He immediately swung all the way over, hard enough that he snapped his grip on the rail and began to drop.
The realization that he’d die if he hit the floor below wrong had him thrusting out a hand and quickly shouting out the words to a spell. The magical lasso lashed itself to the rail, and his descent abruptly halted, sending him swinging on his magical rope.
He twisted his body before he hit a wall and managed to push off in the other direction while trying to lengthen the magical strand.
Someone sang about a spider man. Which he ignored. If there were spiders, he’d have Alfred deal with them.
Eventually, Luc hit the floor, running a few steps to regain his balance while Elspeth clapped.
“Bravo. That looked fun. Can you teach me to do it?”
“It was magic.”
Her nose scrunched. “Which means, no. Can you tak
e a passenger?”
Could he handle more weight on his magical rope? He didn’t know. Just like he didn’t know how he’d reacted that quickly.
“Perhaps I’ll let you find out later.”
It might depend on how badly things went during their lesson after breakfast.
Alfred wasn’t to be found in the kitchen. However, a large, covered tray and a note claiming he’d gone to run errands were.
Luc chewed slowly at the flaky roll she had called some fancy name and listened as she babbled.
Elspeth enjoyed talking, and he liked listening. She had a certain joy about her that radiated in everything she did.
She noticed him staring. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?” She smiled widely.
“No.”
“Then why are you ogling me like that?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
Sunshine beamed from her face. “Thank you. You’re pretty, too.”
With such an opening, he blurted, “We should return to my chambers.”
“Oh, no you don’t. You asked me to teach you how to fight, and I am a woman of my word.”
And she kept it, giving him no quarter as she taught him the basics of hand-to-hand combat. Most of it he picked up quickly, his study of the television having given him an idea of the movements. Still, implementing proved trickier than expected. She was so very fast.
When she swept him to the mat, again, for the umpteenth—no one was counting—time, he couldn’t help a wry grin.
“I might not be ready to rule the world.”
“A little more practice,” she agreed, lying atop him, a light sheen of sweat slicking her skin. Her hair was held back with a strip of fabric, but a few wispy curls strayed to frame her face.
If this was practice, give him more.
She squirmed atop him. “I think we’re done for the day.”
But he’d not yet pinned her. She was too quick. What if he caught her off guard?
He kissed her, a sudden embrace met with a heated gasp. Elspeth didn’t pull away. She melted into him, her lips embracing his with a fierce hunger. Her body molded to his. It made it easy for him to put his arms around her, hold her tight, and then…
Flip. She lay under. He lay over. The kiss continued, and he pressed against her. Hard and aching.
He whispered against her lips. “I pinned you.”
Her hot reply? “I know. I think I promised you a shower.”
“Later.” He didn’t want this kiss to end.
She held tightly to him, her lips melded to his, their breaths mixed and hot. Her legs parted, allowing him to nestle more fully between them. But their clothing remained in the way.
It didn’t stop him from grinding against her, his need great. The ache unbearable.
“Undress me,” she whispered in between nips of his mouth. “Let’s do it right here, right now.”
On the floor?
He might have argued more, but she tugged at his shirt. He lifted enough to strip it, and she ran her fingers over his flesh, leaving paths of fire in their wake.
His attempt to denude her didn’t fare as well. His hands became frantic and clumsy.
She laughed as she helped him. “It’s okay. We have time.”
Perhaps she could slow down, but he couldn’t. He’d waited so long. So long to be this close to a woman. To find someone he could be intimate with.
She wore a brassiere over her breasts, the fabric both covering and revealing. He gripped it on the sides and tore it. Having seen enough movies to know it would be easier than wrestling with it.
It revealed her in all her naked splendor. This time, he didn’t look away.
He stared. She was utterly perfect, from her smooth skin, her toned muscles, to her breasts tipped in pink.
Looks good enough to eat.
With their shirts gone, crushing himself against her proved very different.
Skin-to-skin contact. It caused him to draw a deep, shuddering breath. Then another as her nipples shriveled to hard points that pressed into his chest. The friction proved pleasurable. He couldn’t help but rub himself over and over against her. He hardness of him pressing and grinding against the vee of her thighs. Her lips latched hotly to his, and their tongues… Their tongues twined, drawing groan after groan.
The pressure in him built.
He drew close. Too close. He’d yet to remove her pants or his.
To gain some measure of control, he reared, tearing himself away from her tempting skin. Only she reached forward and raked his bare chest with her nails
“I—I—” His head fell back, and his hips jerked as he came.
Chapter Twenty
Elspeth blinked. Then smiled even as Luc groaned and rolled away from her.
“Where are you going?” she exclaimed.
“To bury myself in a hole since I’m about to die from shame,” he grumbled, refusing to look at her.
“What shame?”
He turned his head enough to shoot her a dark glare. “We are not discussing this.”
“I don’t see what the problem is. I’m rather honored by it all.”
“Honored?” He rose to his feet, hands dropped to cover the wet stain on his pants. “You didn’t achieve pleasure. I was selfish.”
“You lost control. Which is the sexiest thing a man has ever done for or with me.” She beamed at him.
“But you didn’t achieve pleasure. I failed.”
“Only if we’re done. Are we done? Or will you join me in a shower?” She rose to her feet, noting how his gaze hotly followed the sway of her breasts.
“What if it happens again?”
“Then the third time is the charm.”
Emotions rippled across his face: shame, hope, eagerness, hesitation…
“I fear I should warn you, I might not be the most adept of lovers.”
“It’s okay if you don’t have much experience.”
Watching him meant seeing the rising tide of red in his cheeks.
“I have no experience.” He cleared his throat. “By the time I came of age, it was only my mother and me. We would never have committed that cardinal sin. And after, I only had my jailors. I would have died before I let them touch me.”
“Everyone starts out a virgin.”
“Are you?” he asked.
A soft smile graced her lips as she nodded. “Yes.” Not for lack of trying. “Which means this will be a learning adventure for us both. So long as we stay away from those heated massage oils.” That didn’t end well.
She held out her hand.
“You still want to be with me?” He sounded surprised.
She nodded. “Do you?” They’d not known each other for very long. He’d only recently escaped. His psyche was still adapting to all the changes he’d gone through. But biggest of all, she knew how he struggled with the vengeance he thought he wanted and the affection and friendship she knew he needed.
They both needed this. She had already seen that he was the only man strong enough to handle her. To not be daunted by her power. Who wouldn’t be crushed by her passion.
When he approached and ignored her hand to draw her close, she couldn’t help the happy burst within her. He’d chosen her over revenge.
Little did he know, she’d choose him over anything.
Their lips melded, a hard clash of mouths and teeth. There was nothing gentle about their kiss. Nothing elegant either.
Pure.
Unadulterated.
Passion.
She held tightly to his shoulders and lifted her legs to wrap around his waist.
Luc didn’t even grunt at the added weight. Simply took that as an invitation to cup her ass cheeks.
“Let’s have that shower,” she whispered against his neck before licking it.
Lucky for them, the basement gym in the castle—a converted dungeon that mixed medieval stone with modern convenience—had a huge bathroom. A room—probably an old cell—equipped with a tiny fro
sted window high on the wall, offered showerheads on a few of the surfaces. Knobs sat below each.
“Which one?” he asked.
“Turn them all on,” she replied. “Let’s steam this place up.”
She sucked at his ear as he carried her from tap to tap, yanking the knobs and turning them, dodging out of the way of the cold water that first shot out.
At the last knob he didn’t move, and he let the cold spray strike their bodies.
She gasped and tightened her grip on him.
His fingers dug deeper as the fabric to her pants became soaked.
“You set me afire,” he murmured, taking a page from her book and nuzzling her neck.
“It’s because we’re made for each other.” They were soul mates.
She’d seen it.
“I burn for you.” He shoved her back against the shower wall, the old stone blocks smoothed by time, yet chilly against her skin. Her new position freed his hands.
He threaded one through her hair, cradling her head. He tugged, and she tilted her face, exposing her neck to him.
His lips grazed the skin. He whispered, “You make me forget my promises.”
Awash in pleasure, she replied, “I would do anything for you.” Love, kill, betray. He was her dracinore. Her weakness.
Some would argue that she barely knew the man, but how could she say that? In her visions, she’d experienced a thousand different lifetimes with him. She remembered none clearly. They jumbled together in her mind, but there was one thing they all had in common.
“Luc.” She breathed his name and moaned as his lips left her neck for the bounty of her breasts. For a girl her height, she didn’t have the largest ones. Not by far. She exercised too much for that. But Luc didn’t seem to mind. He nuzzled her breasts, rubbed his bristly jawline against them as the water, now hot, sluiced over them.
When he finally stopped teasing to place his mouth over a tip, she arched and cried out.
He paused.
“Keep going.”
With a happy hum, he played again, sucking softly at first but, with encouragement, tugging hard at her nipple—the pulls tugging between her legs.
Speaking of which, her damned wet pants chafed.
“Take these off me.” She looped her fingers into the waistband, shoving at them.