My Dragon Master

by Alisa Woods

  I lean back and frown. “What do you mean?”

  “We will both become elves.”

  Nine

  Daisy

  It’s easy for me to accept the magic.

  Maybe because a two-thousand-year-old Elven Queen is living in my head.

  The shock on Akkan’s face is much more normal. “How can we just become elves?” he asks and not without reason.

  I shrug. “The Queen has extraordinary powers… I guess? I mean, how can you teleport when you’re a mated dragon?”

  “It’s just part of the deal.” But he’s frowning now, working it through.

  “Right. And we’re all connected. The elves watch over the dragons and humans. But their queen is human, originally, and her mate is dragon. So, the elves care for us, but they also depend on us. Dragons need the witches to pair them with humans for mating, which helps the dragons—and the elves—but the witches need the dragons’ blood for their magic. The humans don’t have a clue, but they’re protected. It’s all part of the same magical ecosystem.”

  He scowls. “How do the Vardigah fit in that ecosystem?”

  “They’re what happens when things break down.” I grab hold of his hand and squeeze. “We can fix this, you and I, Akkan. I mean, we’re not sure if it will work. But it will only work if we mate. And, well, I’m not so sure about that.”

  He looks hurt. “Because you don’t want it.”

  “Do you?” I gesture to this ridiculous mating bed that Giullis conjured. “Still? Knowing all this. That it’s nothing like you’ve expected all this time?”

  His hurt flies away, replaced by the intensity I’ve seen on his face so often in the short time I’ve known him. “I’m an old dragon getting ready to die without his mate. Nothing has worked out how I expected.”

  “But we’ve just met—”

  The back of his fingers stroke across my cheek. “I only needed one kiss to know. All my life, I’ve heard the stories about how mating was the experience of a lifetime. I believed it. Then I wished it weren’t true—because I would never find you. And now I have… Daisy…” His blue eyes darken. “If I have to call you Aerendyl while I make love to you in an Elvish body… I will. There’s nothing that could keep me from mating with you. Nothing except that I don’t think you want it.”

  I frown and take his hand from my cheek and hold it. “My name is Helen.”

  His eyebrows lift. “Which lifetime was that? The first?”

  “No, this one.” I drop my gaze to where our hands meet. “Truth is, I don’t know my real name. I have all these lives swimming inside me, and I still don’t know.”

  He softens his voice and squeezes my hand. “I don’t understand,” he says gently.

  “I’m afraid…” I sigh, but I should just tell him, no matter how embarrassing. I look up at his concerned expression. “We have to be in love for the mating to work, right? Well…” Before the hurt on his face can settle too deeply, I rush out, “I’m afraid I don’t know how to love. Not real love. The kind magic is made of.”

  His brow scrunches up. “You’ve lived how many lives and—”

  I sigh again. “Remembering love isn’t the same. I know Aerendyl loved her mate. I’ve had past lives where I loved people, at least for a while. It’s like watching a movie, and seeing what it looks like, but that’s different than experiencing it for yourself.”

  “You never found someone?”

  I look away, feeling the too-familiar shame that burns along with that question. Because I should have been able to do this. Any normal person would. But I’m not normal. I never have been. “I never let anyone get close.” My chest feels tight, the shame and pain still as fresh as the day I first found out how not normal I was. “I’m pretty sure I’m broken, Akkan.”

  “Maybe you were just waiting for me.” He says it softly, and when I look up again, he’s giving me a tentative smile.

  I just need to tell him. “I don’t know my name because my father lied to me every day of my life.”

  Akkan’s smile fades.

  “We were always moving around,” I explain, “and I was a child, so what did I know? He took odd jobs. He taught me how to help. My earliest memories are digging through his tool chest to find the right screwdriver. He wasn’t a bad father—he just wasn’t my real one.” The frown of confusion on his face says I’m doing a lousy job of this. But it’s causing my hands to tremble, so I lock my arms across my chest and keep going. “We moved around a lot. I always thought my mother had died, although he never really said anything about her. Then one day, when I was sixteen, he was hit by a bus on the way to a job. I didn’t even know until he didn’t come home. It took me three days to find him, searching the hospitals and morgues. When I finally did, he told me—that he wasn’t my father. That he’d taken me when I was small. That he needed me, someone who belonged just to him. I begged him to tell me who my real family was, but he refused. And then he died.” A chill shakes my shoulders. I haven’t talked about this in decades.

  Akkan’s arms are suddenly around me, pulling me into the solid wall of his chest. “Daisy, I’m sorry.”

  “He told me my real name was Helen,” I mumble, my face pressed against the warm comfort of him. “That’s all I know.” I pull in a deep breath, and the scent of Akkan fills me. Clean from the bath and masculine. I barely know this beautiful man, but I feel the connection between us. That soul bond. It’s more than I’ve ever felt with anyone else… and I’m afraid that’s all I’m capable of. I pull back, out of his embrace, and look him in the eye. “He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, and that love was all a lie.”

  His expression pinches in. “He lied, but you loved him like a father. That was real.”

  I shake my head and look away again. “I was a child. I didn’t know any better.” I turn back to him, searching his face to see if he can understand this. “I became an adult that day, at sixteen, and I’ve been on my own ever since. I don’t rely on anyone. I take care of myself. And other people too—I keep myself fed and whatever I need by working odd jobs. Like him. It’s the one real thing he left me, those skills. I use them to help other people. Sometimes for money. Sometimes just to make the world a little better. But I never could trust anyone enough to stick around for very long, you know? And here I am, now, and all I have to do is love you, and I can save the world of dragons and elves and humans… and it’s the one thing I just don’t know how to do.”

  “What about Grace and Jayda?” There’s so much sweetness in his voice.

  I hesitate. Do I love them? “They’re the closest I’ve ever had to sisters.”

  “You took care of each other, right? In the cells. And after.” He peers at me now, tugging my arms, so they unlock from my chest.

  “I did readings for them.” It’s making me choke up, and I don’t know why. “Just imaginary ones. I didn’t have my cards.”

  “You were comforting them. Giving them hope.” He’s stroking the back of my hand.

  “I didn’t have anything else to give.”

  “But that’s everything.” His smile is so gentle. “Love is something you choose to do. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my time on this planet, it’s that loving is a verb. It’s an action you decide to take. Maybe your father did it for the wrong reasons. But you did it for Jayda and Grace for the right ones. Don’t tell me you’re incapable of love. I’ve already seen it in how they worry about you. How they came to help you. And you’d do the same for them.”

  “I would.” Tears are leaking from my eyes now.

  “You already have. Give me a chance, Daisy.” His hand is on my cheek. “Helen. Aerendyl. Whatever you want me to call you, whoever’s memories you have, all I know is the woman before me has a heart that wants to save the world, if only she can figure out how to love. Let’s learn together.”

  “Is it that simple?” My voice is barely a whisper.

  He’s moving in to kiss me. “I have no idea.” Then his lips are on mine,
and it’s just as hot as the first two times. More because he’s leaning me back on the bed, his hand skimming my thigh and already under the diaphanous skirt I was given by Giullis as “more appropriate for a queen.” My memories say that’s true. They tell me that making love to my mate will be wildly wonderful. But it’s Akkan’s lips hot against my mouth, my jawline, my neck that convinces me I can take the risk—take the leap—and try.

  “This is all I want.” His words caress my shoulder. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

  My hands thread into his hair as his lips trail kisses down my chest. He nips at my breast through the dress, then slips his hand inside to free it. The dress is barely clinging to me anyway. I pant and arch up into his teeth grazing my nipple, then he takes it into his mouth. My fingers splay across his back, seeking the hotness of his skin and sliding off the toga that’s slung over his shoulder. He lifts off me for a moment to yank the whole thing free. He’s truly glorious naked, his erection thick and ready for me. I blink and edge up on my elbows, not entirely sure I’m ready for him. But then he’s pressing that well-muscled body against me on the bed, and my body surges heat in response. It is definitely ready for this man. My heart is still quivering like a small, frightened bird. He kisses me deeply, his hand under my skirt once more, tugging at my panties. Will we just rush into this? Is that how this will work? I have no idea. Then he breaks the kiss, but only to pull back and use both hands to ease my panties down all the way to my feet.

  His eyes are hooded with lust as he skims his body along mine until we’re face to face. “What shall I call you?” he whispers as he nuzzles my cheek.

  “Your Royal Majesty the Queen will do.” I’m breathless. His hand slides between my legs, making me suck in air.

  He chuckles, puffing hot air against my skin. “Your Royal Majesty.” The heel of his hand presses into my sex. The sudden contact makes me moan. Then he moves, his hand making a circular motion that has me squirming. “The Queen.” He brings his fingers into the torment, sliding and pressing, then dipping inside me. Memories of the past well up: lovemaking with my mate, the centuries and millennia blurring together, his intimate knowledge of my body giving him free access to my pleasure. Akkan barely knows me, but he’s a quick study of the language of my body, knowing just how much pressure brings a gasp, how fast a stroke of his hand elicits an arched back. He’s gripping my squirming body, holding me still for his pleasuring. I’m grasping at the bed, his shoulders, the hand between my legs that’s racing me to climax. When it comes—when I come—the convulsions rock me against him. He holds me fast, whispering his delight at my whimpering, his hand still working every last pulse of pleasure out of me. As it passes, tension flees my body. I sink into the bed, and Akkan relents, at least for the moment, drawing back with glittering eyes and a wicked smile.

  “Are all dragons this good at love-making?” My words are slurred with pleasure.

  “I’m sure I don’t know.” But his smirk traces a flush all over my body. Then he reaches for my hands and urges me up until we’re kneeling on the bed, facing each other. His hands slide around to the back of my neck, working at the clasps which hold up the entire tangle of my dress. When it drops down, he caresses my breasts on the way down to the thin golden belt at my waist. He holds me close while he works on that, nuzzling me again, his lips brushing kisses along my jawline and neck. In a moment, the belt loosens, and the whole thing slips to my knees. He holds my hands out to the side, admiring my body. I’m no spring chicken anymore, but under Akkan’s gaze, my body seems to glow like a goddess. I remember being worshipped like this—Aerendyl’s mate would literally place her on an altar and pleasure her again and again. It was an intimate joke between the two of them. This feels like an echo, and yet I’ve never experienced it first-hand. Never had a man look at me the way Akkan is right now.

  Is this love? The feeling of being desired? I don’t know, but it’s not a terrible thing.

  Akkan moves close again and slides his hands along my body like he’s trying to touch every last part—caressing my nipples, squeezing my breasts, skimming the small of my back to grasp my rear end. He lifts me up out of the pile of dress and spreads my legs, bringing my sex up against his belly, trapping the hardness of him between us. Then he lays me back on the bed again, and I think maybe this is it—this is when he takes me. But instead, he open-mouth kisses down my body, leaving a trail of wetness that leads to the already-soaked area between my legs. He hikes my knees over his shoulders and lavishes that tongue on me. The jolt is electric this time, and I’m instantly moaning and bucking into him. He wraps his arms under my bottom, lifting me up into his greedy mouth, and I can’t help the sounds I’m making now. I paw at the bed, another climax racing up, and when it reaches the peak, my thighs quiver around his head as the rest of me arches and convulses. He draws it out, teasing me further, and before it even abates, his fingers take me, thrusting and compounding the orgasm that’s still shaking me. I cry out again, half sitting up and cradling his head in my lap as he renews that orgasm, making it crest again. It keeps rippling through me for an uncountable time. When it finally passes, I collapse back on the bed.

  “Is this how you make me love you?” I ask, boneless and breathless. “Multiple, incredible orgasms until I relent?’

  He kisses his way back up my body and grins when he reaches my face. “That was just for fun.”

  “What do you do when you’re serious?” My mind is awash in an orgasmic haze.

  But his grin does fade, and the heat of that look pulses pleasure through me. “Do you want me serious, my Queen?”

  “Call me Daisy. It’s the name I picked. The only one that’s fully me.”

  His eyes light up. “Daisy, my love.” He kisses me tenderly, and the taste of me is still on his lips. The hardness of his body, all muscles and strength and the thick shaft pressed against my belly, is exciting in its promise. “I want to pleasure you until you can’t take it anymore. I want to hear you cry out. I want to reach that peak with you. I want to savor every tiny moment. I don’t know if I can win your love in bed, but I’m sure as hell going to try.”

  That makes me smile. “You’re so sure you love me?”

  “No question in my mind.” He dips his head down to nibble on my shoulder.

  I run my fingers through his longish hair. “You’re certain you want to be bonded to me. For thousands of years.”

  He halts mid-kiss, then lifts up to peer into my eyes. “I’d forgotten that part. Oh, hell, never mind.”

  My mouth opens in shock, but he’s already smirking at my surprise.

  “You’re terrible!” I grab at his shoulders and try to push him away. It’s like attempting to move a mountain.

  “It’s true. I am.” He takes my hands and plants them back on the bed on either side of my head, pinning me with his gorgeous body. He slides against me, all hardness and heat. “I want to take you right now, bury myself deep inside you, and pound until you confess your love for me just so I’ll allow you to come.” I almost think he means it. He lowers himself to lightly kiss my nose. “There’s only one problem.”

  “Only one?” I’m ready to beg him.

  “Well, maybe two, but they’re connected.” He’s serious now. “Firstly, no protection. And secondly, you don’t love me. Yet.”

  I know he means that if I don’t love him, the mating won’t take. “Maybe I will. You know, after the pounding.”

  A slow smile stretches across his face. “I do have a certain… technique… I can use. All the pounding but no release. Well, none on my part.” He kisses me again, this time on the lips. “But I’m still worried about the risk, my love. Your body, unless we’re mated, can’t handle a dragon pregnancy.”

  It triggers a memory. “Elves,” I say, remembering the pain and the joy. I gently hold his cheek. “Our children will be Elven.”

  A mixed torment crosses his face. He eases back from hovering over me. “I don’t understand how that part works.”
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  “Remember how you said we’d learn this together?” I urge him to roll back on the bed, then climb on top to straddle him. “Let’s just try and see what happens.”

  His eyelids drop to half-mast, and he grips my hips, encouraging me to slide my slick parts along his hard ones. “I think I know what will happen if we do this awhile.”

  I brace my hands on his chest and grind into him.

  He sucks in air between his teeth.

  “Can you really keep from coming?” I ask, curious but also enjoying this reversal of positions, me bringing that pleasure to his face.

  “It’s called coitus reservatus.” He groans as I slide along this full length, not taking him in but tormenting him regardless. “It’s a form of early birth control—and pleasure enhancement—and I’ve mastered it, yet now…” He exhales in pleasure as I keep grinding. “I’ve never made love to my soul mate before. You weaken my control, Daisy.”

  “Do I?” But I’m enjoying this way too much. I lift up then reach down to position him so I can take him inside. As I do, he groans even louder, gripping my hips harder. I have to take it slow because holy hotness he’s big, but when I’m seated, I lean forward, breathless. “Can you keep control, Akkan? Even when I’m the one doing the pounding?”

  “How cursed am I that I desperately want to find out?” His voice is strained, and when I rise up and slam back down, he gasps in a way that’s utterly satisfying. I do it again just to hear that delicious sound, then I try to find a rhythm, me clinging to his chest and riding him hard while he attempts to breathe through this magic we’re making. I’m so focused on tormenting him that my own orgasm rises up, sudden and almost unexpected, taking hold of me and making me shudder and gasp as I struggle to keep pounding down on him. I lose the battle and collapse on him, my body still shaking with the pleasure of it.

  He’s still stiff within me… and barely breathing hard below me.

  I drag my head up to look at him. “Did you enjoy that at all?”