by Jory Strong
He handed the cup back to Pierce and encircled Lyra with his arms. “The meals they offer at their restaurant are good?” Not that it really mattered, of course, but it would make things far easier and the tale soon to be spun more believable.
“Better than just good. They’re delicious and very reasonably priced.”
“I propose we use Pierce as our emissary. Would they know Storm, by any chance?”
“I’m pretty sure I used to see her police car parked there sometimes when she worked as a uniformed cop.”
“Perfect. That will lend credibility to the claim Pierce will make, that he’s found the very restaurant he’s been looking for to take up occupancy in a vacant space near Inner Magick. The cost of renovations and the move will be covered, and accepting the proposition will come with an advance of funds, as well as a donation to the hospital to offset the balance owed for the boys’ medical care.”
“He can make that happen?”
Amusement surpassed dragon aggravation at having Lyra look at Pierce with admiration and thankfulness. “Pierce doesn’t brag about his connection to Severn Damek, but there is one.” Not as close as the one Tielo himself had, but right now he didn’t want to focus on family relationships, other than the most important—fully claiming his mate and helping her accept the reality of a supernatural world coexisting with the human one.
Tielo tightened his arms around her, rubbing his cheek to hers. “Pierce can be quite persuasive when he sets his mind to it. In fact, he might well be viewed as a fairy godfather. Handling the situation this way will allow your relationship with the family to remain as it always has been, untroubled by gratitude or feelings of obligation.”
Lyra’s heart swelled with the beginnings of love. She suspected the connection to Severn Damek was really his; after all, Severn Damek fancied himself a dragon as well, while Pierce made no such claim.
Tenderness assailed her, that Tielo would give her this gift without taking credit for more than the idea. She turned in his arms. “Thank you.”
Color crept into his face, at being caught doing something good or because Pierce witnessed it and laughed, she didn’t know which, only that it was endearing.
“Leave,” Tielo growled at Pierce.
“Leaving.” And he did so with the firm close of the door.
Chapter Seven
Lyra teased Tielo with the rub of her cunt to his erection. She was beginning to think he might just have supernatural powers because his constant state of readiness defied what she knew to be true of men. “What next?”
“You need to ask?” The show of affront made her laugh. She liked the growly dragon persona, but she like this playful one too.
“Show me.”
“Always. And as often as necessary.” His mouth swooped down on hers, hands sliding beneath the borrowed shirt to grip her bare ass.
Heat returned in a rush, pooling in her labia and making her desperate for what she’d denied herself. “I want you inside me,” she said, nipples tight, aching. The heavy fullness of her breasts reminiscent of the fertility statuettes she’d seen in a recent museum visit.
He answered by scooping her up in his arms and carrying her with smooth, easy strides into the bedroom.
The instant she was on her feet, his hands went to the front of the shirt. He turned the same strength he’d just exhibited to a different use. Buttons scattered as he bared her with a fierceness that said he’d hated having her covered by anything but his body.
His gaze roamed over her possessively, hungrily. Her heart leapt, not fear, but shocked arousal at just how turned-on his primal display made her, by his growled command. “Get on the bed.”
Lyra lowered her eyelashes, taking her time as she pushed the ruined shirt off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “Don’t you want me to help you undress first?”
Her hands went to the front of his pants. She loved the contrast of dark to light as her knuckles pressed into the taut muscles of his abdomen and her fingers curled beneath his waistband so her thumbs could rub and stroke his cloth-covered erection.
He shuddered, a whole-body shout of need that heightened her feelings of femininity and powerfulness. This time she was the one to initiate the kiss, and to moan at the contact of her nipples with his.
The studded barbell he wore added to the eroticism. His hands on her back, firm and confident, possessive, made her feel precious and protected.
More. She needed more. A more thorough joining with this man the cards had favored for her.
Against her fingers he seemed to swell further, to thicken, the tip of his cock already slick, fully lubricated to aid in getting inside her. Not that he needed it. She was sopping wet, her labia swollen and parted.
The ache radiating from her nipples demanded relief. She forced herself away from his mouth. “Bed,” she managed, and he nipped her neck, no doubt a reminder he’d ordered that very thing.
She opened the front of his pants and pushed them off his hips before getting on the bed, kneeling on the mattress rather than sprawling on her back.
He joined her, lying on the bed, dragon persona if not dragon in form. His eyes demanding she come to him, that she pleasure him.
She crawled forward, loving the way her breasts felt, swaying enticingly, drawing Tielo’s gaze, his nostrils flaring and his lips parted, ready to latch on to her nipples.
His cock bobbed and pulled away from his body as if trying to call her attention. As if it needed to. She wanted to give him that kind of pleasure. She wanted to receive it at the same time.
She brushed her lips across his, swallowed his low moan of pleasure and anticipation before changing position. She rose above him, kissed her way down to his nipples and in the process offered hers.
He latched on to her with a hungry sound, his hands caressing her breasts, grasping her sides to hold as he sucked and laved. The pull of his mouth sending streaks of fire to her cunt, to her clit.
Within minutes it became impossible to ignore the demand for relief, the craving to feel his mouth between her thighs. She took his cock between her lips. Not teasing him this time. She couldn’t bear the retaliation, not when the feel of his tongue fucking into her, the swirl and stroke of it on her clit had her seconds away from orgasm.
Her buttocks clenched and she ground her pussy against his face. She panted, moaned around his girth, desperately lapping at his escaped arousal.
She sucked as his hips lifted in an effort to drive deeper, the movement making it feel as though there were firm ridges just beneath the head. She sought them with her tongue, but managed only a single touch before his mouth on her pussy became ruthlessly demanding, before he forced her into the wild ecstasy of release.
Tielo swallowed her down, bathed in scent and taste and the hot evidence of her desire for him until she returned to herself. Then he flipped her onto her back, unable to withstand the torment of denial any longer. He was close to becoming fully dragon in her presence.
A slow penetration was impossible. Or so he thought—until he was lodged at her opening, his girth near true size, the rings beneath his cock head fully exposed and hard against his hand, the touch of his own flesh as her channel spasmed on his tip nearly enough to have him coming.
By the Great Shared Ancestor. The roar of fire filled his head and his skin was already coated in a sheen of moisture. He fought against slamming home, not willing to take his pleasure in the violent, painful sundering of his mate’s body.
“I want you inside me,” she said, nails digging into his back, scraping downward to his buttocks.
He found a smile at how dragon-like she was. He gave her an inch, eyes closing at the flutter and clamp of internal muscles, at the very tightness that turned breathing into a struggle.
It had never been like this for him. And if he’d claimed the power to make her forget anyone before him, then she had that same power.
He trembled with need. Slowly worked his way in, his mouth claiming hers, his
soul drinking in the sounds of her acceptance as he stretched her, filled her, and in turn was consumed by the need to make her irrevocably and completely his in a binding that worked both ways.
Feminine legs lifted and locked at the base of his spine, driving him deeper and making it impossible to remain motionless. Ecstasy rushed through him with each thrust, stripping away civilized veneer and turning him into primal being, a male intent on mating his female. He lay heavily on her, holding some of his weight on his elbows so he could cradle her body, allowing his wrists to touch the soft skin above her shoulder blades.
The lush cushion of her breasts was a temptation to wallow and roll and trumpet his victory and pleasure. The rub of her tongue and heady grip of her sheath insisted he move. Harder. Deeper. Faster. Until she crested again, the savage clamp of her channel a demand for her mate’s seed.
He came on a roar, hollow mating spurs finally descending, finally filling and piercing her skin, the release of serum prolonging and intensifying orgasm like a heated fist pumping his testicles repeatedly. Each squeeze sending a hot wave of semen through his cock and into his female so that even when he had nothing more to give, his hips continued to jerk, extending the pleasure until the effects of the serum rendered her unconscious.
He propped himself on his elbows then, content to merely watch his mate sleep while his cock remained lodged inside her. She’d grown more beautiful as the evening progressed, and learning her motives for coming to the club had only made her shine like a brilliantly cut jewel, though no treasure matched a dragon mate’s worth.
He nuzzled her, whispered kisses across her lips, nibbled, already addicted to taste and scent and touch. She’d accept the truth. She wouldn’t fear him when he revealed himself to her.
“Mine,” he said against her neck, smiling at imagining her making the same claim of him.
He hardened again, and it turned her lack of consciousness into sweet torture. How did other males stand it? He had hours before him, more than he needed to get her safely ensconced in his dragon realm lair.
He pulled from her depths rather than take her again. He cuddled against her back, his length between her thighs, touched to hot woman’s flesh. It became impossible to remain still.
She responded to him despite being trapped in the serum-induced sleep. Pushing backward in counterpoint to his thrusts, her labia swelling, parting, drenching him in arousal.
He moaned when her hand took possession of his shaft, becoming a fist to fuck through, to rub the rings beneath his cock head against.
Perhaps a human gentleman would force himself to cease, to leave the bed. But he would never be human despite the appearance of it. And caught in the throes of first mating, the merits of being a gentleman were lost on him. He cupped a breast, a thrill of masculine satisfaction going through him at the way her nipple tightened and her back arched on a moan of welcome and desire.
“I will take care of you always,” he pledged, jerking when her thumb rubbed over the slit in his cock head, a coaxing request for his seed that filled his testicles in a hot, twisting rush and searing swell.
His buttocks clenched. He panted, grunted when her grip tightened, forcing him to work at fucking through it, to fight as he’d had to in order to become fully sheathed inside her.
The rings might be meant to cause ovulation in dragon females, but in his human mate’s grip, each strike of them against the edge of her clamped hand made him shudder as exquisite sensation spread from his cock in hot ripples that only intensified his craving and his need.
The bond between them wasn’t fully formed, but her actions said she dreamed of him, of this, experiencing as fantasy what was reality for him. But even then, he would not take without giving.
His hand left her breast for her clit. He stroked the pleasure center as her hand moved up and down on the part of his shaft not pressed tight and wet to her folds as he cuddled against the soft globes of her ass, dragon size again giving him an advantage.
Her hips bucked in time to his, her toes curling against his leg. And when she cried out, it was a siren song, calling him to his own release. Ropey jets of semen flooded her hand and washed onto her belly, adding to his satisfaction.
He lay snuggled against her for long moments afterward, regaining his strength. The thought made him smile, then made that smile widen as he imagined Lyra’s reaction to the admission.
A kiss to her shoulder led to further nuzzling. His mate was definitely a distraction. He suspected he’d soon be counting the moments until the final school bell of the day rang. Long nights spent at the gaming tables were a thing of the past, unless of course, it was a private battle of skill and resilience between the two of them.
He levered himself away from her, leaving only long enough to bring a warm washcloth back from the bathroom so he could tend to her, making her comfortable before taking a shower then returning to cuddle with her and allow the effects of the serum to wear off some.
He snoozed lightly, rising when an internal alarm told him it was time to take her to the portal. He dressed before going to the office safe and removing a velvet bag full of jewels. Keeping her naked until the very last, then putting a shirt on her and carrying her to the mustard-yellow Lamborghini he’d driven to the club.
The car invited speeding, and he was often guilty of it. Not this trip. He didn’t dare risk being stopped though he chafed and cursed, and found himself on the brake more often than the gas.
He traveled to an old, weather-beaten house along the coast. It was a picturesque place captured in photographs by tourists who never guessed at its significance. Pulling around back, he parked in an attached garage and got out.
At the door leading into the house, he touched a series of sigils in the correct sequence. It unlocked. He opened it then returned to the car, collecting his mate and carrying her inside and to the portal entry itself.
It was an expensive passage, but well worth it. He dumped the entire contents of the velvet bag into a slot built in the wall.
A door slid open, revealing a completely dark room. The muted sunlight of early morning reached down the hallway but did not cross the threshold of this timeless place where worlds converged.
He stepped into the room, anticipation singing in his veins, the bond with his mate made real and permanent in the beat of a heart as darkness gave way to bright sunshine and brisk flower-scented winds.
He knew immediately he wasn’t alone. A phantom crest rose along his neck, only to settle as a dark blue dragon with cream underside transformed into a human-appearing woman before entering the stone building perched high in the air of neutral territory. Sonata. He acknowledged her with a nod, his usual wariness when around female dragons not present with this distant cousin. Her submissive nature was anathema to the dominant females who’d long ruled because the existence of the Dragon’s Cup had shifted the balance of power.
That would change now. Perhaps over time equality would come to exist between the sexes. Perhaps the curse linking dragon fertility to the chalice would soon be broken altogether. Severn had told him Malik investigated the possibility and thought he might be closer to an answer.
“Best wishes,” Sonata said, voice soft.
“Best wishes to you, also.” In finding what she must be seeking, a mate, though in truth, he was surprised she had the courage to leave what was familiar and venture into the unknown.
He stepped out onto the ledge with Lyra. He was almost sorry his mate was still unconscious, though perhaps he needed to learn whether she was a thrill seeker before demonstrating what he could do.
Rather than launch from the platform, he turned and perched on the edge like a high diver ready to perform a backflip, then he simply leaned into space, falling with great speed toward the ground hundreds of feet below as he allowed human form to shatter in a magical release.
Silver-and-gold wings stopped his descent with a jerk, then lifted him, their span and his strength carrying him upward until he was well ab
ove the portal building. The wind took him then, in a glide toward his lair that allowed him to simply savor everything around him.
It had been years since he’d been home, and now that return was made more profound by the woman he held tight against his chest.
Lush valley floated by beneath them, filled with abundant prey and dotted with sparkling lakes. This was the southern end of the dragon realm, a warm and bountiful paradise unlike the harsher territory to the north. Everywhere he looked there was an explosion of color. Yellow, purple, white, blue, all merging and mixing and blending, patches of flowers adding to the beauty.
He soared until he neared the border of the neutral territory surrounding the portal, then he used powerful muscles and sweeping wingspan to hurry, keeping well away from the fairytale castle belonging to his aunt, Severn’s mother.
Relief filled him at reaching his lair. He landed on the narrow ledge and used the tip of his tail to trace the magical command to open doors strong enough to keep his treasure safe from theft during his long absences.
A daybed of polished stones took up the majority of space in what human’s would call a foyer, or possibly a front room. He bypassed it in favor of carrying Lyra to the very heart of his domain, forcing himself to relinquish his first form and take on a human one after carefully placing her on a bed of smooth diamonds.
Thin streams of flame directed at sconces set in the wall lit the room, creating color so she might well have lain on a rainbow, a sight marred only by the fabric of the shirt.
She didn’t need it, nor did he want it cluttering the lair. In truth, she would never have left the portal building wearing it had Sonata not been present.
A blast of dragon fire reduced it to particles of ash so fine as to be nonexistent. Perfect.
A purr of satisfaction vibrated in his chest at seeing the silver-and-gold dragon curling contentedly around her left nipple, a magical manifestation tying them together.
He could sense her waking, could read the hazy remnants in her mind of what she thought had been an erotic dream, and purred again because pleasure had her fighting to remain asleep.