by Susan Arden
“What wrong?” Drake paused and clasped her even tighter in twin bands of steel as he looked about her room.
“It’s nothing,” she tried to assure him, but she was more than certain with his dragon perception, he undoubtedly heard her heart clattering furiously as though she’d run a race.
Her whole face heated as he trained his focus on her without blinking, like a bird of prey. He suspended taking a breath as he watched her every move. She fought to let go of this stupid sense of pride she wore as if it were a robe that might protect her. In his presence, her sense of right and wrong—the things she’d held onto—were in flux.
He’d accused her of engaging in flighty, fun activities last summer, but really she’d spent a majority of that trip convinced she had no idea who she was in relation to her family and had needed a break after four grueling years of college. In the end, he’d proven himself correct in many of the assertions he’d tossed around like soap bubbles on the breeze … until every last one had burst and left her flailing to find her footing.
“Shay,” he murmured, kneeling by her single-mattress bed and with one hand, pulled back the quilt and laid her down with the epitome of dragon grace. He ran his hands down her body, all the way to her shoes, and began untying her laces.
Oh dear God, his fingers were magick on her skin. A hedonistic shiver wracked her body, and she rolled her lip between her teeth to prevent the small moan that followed. No, this couldn’t be happening.
“What are you doing?” she asked, lifting up onto her elbows and trying to wrench her foot out of his fingers.
“Taking off your shoes.” Gifting her with an arched brow, he held onto her ankle without relenting. “You need to get some rest.”
“Oh. Is that what you call what we’re going to do? The last time we tumbled into my bed, there wasn’t much sleeping or resting. Not when we were naked.” Holy shit. She didn’t just say that!
“Ah, yes. I do recall.” He laughed easily, stroking his fingers along her ankle. The low provocative rumble of his voice was a heady reminder of the things they’d once done in bed, surprisingly a balm to her senses. “All right, after the shoes, I’ll undress you completely. If that’s what you’re saying.”
Good thing her room was poorly lit—he might not notice her face had turned fire-engine red. Or felt like it. “I’m not in my right mind. Obviously,” she muttered.
Drake set her foot down and regarded her with a serious expression, cocking his chin slightly. “I don’t want you to be unnerved by me. I want you so bad I can taste the essence of your leopardess self. The fragrance at the back of your wrists, the texture of your lips, how you moan when you come all haunt me. But you must give yourself to me, Shay. You’re my mate and I will have you. Entirely. There are things I uncovered about Necrodemas which are troubling. Like a fool I believed I could come here and see you once and that would be the end.”
“What do you mean?” She swallowed hard.
“You’re mine to protect. If I find out that Necrodemas even suspects this is where you are … I’ll move you. With or without your permission.”
She bolted upright. “How can you make unilateral decisions for me? I’m a grown woman, Drake!”
“Are you now?” He remained poised by her ankle, at the foot of the mattress, but he might as well be made out of granite in how he tensed all over. She sniffed and what radiated off Drake made her heart race. The scent of rage permeated the air—like the smell of an electrical fire.
She licked her lips that had gone dry and nodded her head. “Why does he care so much? I’m only a leopardess and not a very good one.”
He stared back at her, his dragon gaze powered up, and if his eyes had held heat-seeking missiles before, his emerald orbs now torpedoed her. “I wish it were as simple as Necrodemas’ pride but that’s not all that is at stake. Your lineage is of use to him. Apparently he had some genome studies conducted and you’re more than a suitable mate. The offspring you would give him would result in unusual versions of leopard shifters.”
She rubbed a hand over her belly. “My babies aren’t unusual. Well, aside from the fact that they’re half-dragon.”
“Necrodemas isn’t a purebred leopard as he’d like the world to believe. The truth is problematic for him in his ability to broker unions with other clans by offering up his offspring in arranged matings as far away as Russia, and recently Serbia. A daughter just last week.”
“How horrid and calculating!” She abhorred the treatment of women as chattel. “What exactly is he, besides a monster?”
“A Heinz 57 shifter type. Enough that he can’t refute being a hybrid if pressed. His children are on the board of the justice council, making all sorts of ridiculous rulings that go against the shifters they’re supposed to help. Necrodemas can’t control his progeny, and in turn, the gangs are rising up against anyone who opposes them. It’s bordering on a crucible ready to combust. There’s an undercurrent of anarchy, and if something doesn’t change, fast, our communities are in jeopardy. The humans will disband the councils and issue martial law to deal with the insurrections.”
“Including Necrodemas? I’d venture to lay odds he’d be the first to garner special treatment,” she scoffed. No doubt the tyrant owned a half-dozen politicians, if not more.
“Exactly. He, more than anyone, has a parachute ready. He’s slipperier than a goddamn eel and I say that from experience. I’d take him out yesterday, but he’s not the one who concerns me. He’s easy to track and has become a necessary evil.”
“I don’t like the sounds of that.” Necessary evil? How much did Drake stay involved in geopolitics?
“Then let’s stop talking about him.” Drake set her boots to the side and rolled down her socks, tucking them into her shoes.
“But I still have questions.”
“Of that, I’m sure. You are the most curious and confounding woman I’ve ever met.” He walked on his knees to her and stopped next to her waist.
“Big talk, coming from you. Still travel with all the technology?” She swallowed, stiffening in anticipation, not knowing how he’d react to her blossoming tummy.
She watched Drake’s fingers pop the button at her waistband and lower the zipper of her jeans. “Lift those beautiful hips,” he murmured. “Or I can rip these off your body. No problem.”
“Don’t!”
“Then you better comply before my heated brain goes on autopilot. I won’t be responsible for what I do if that happens.”
“Oh reeallly,” she snorted, trying to act like this was nothing but routine for her while the pulse along her neck jangled frantically.
“Yeah. Really, baby.” In Drake’s usual quicksilver impulses, he shifted up to her, too fast to keep tabs on, and pressed his mouth to her neck, kissing a line down the side of throat, and imbuing her blood with a dose of decadent desire that swam all too fast in her veins.
Her heart beat an SOS tempo against his tongue as he traced the tip along her skin. Oh God! Did someone set her skin on fire? She moaned as the sensation of his mouth shot an electrical jolt all the way down her body and landed between her legs. It was as though no time had passed since the days she’d spent with Drake in bed. She was flabbergasted at her over-the-top response to him.
He more than blindsided her. Drake, in his dragon take-all and ask-no-questions assault on her senses, employed the subtlest of enticements in his arsenal. She’d demanded that he not seduce her. Specifically, she’d made him promise not to fuck her and here she lay with her thighs open. Wide, wide open. Surreptitiously, she slid her knees together—or tried to until his hands shot out and locked onto her legs.
“Stop.” Drake lifted his head and gazed down at her.
“Is that all this is? Hot, screaming sex?”
“Naw. We’ve talked. A little.” He wrapped his forearms along the sides of her chest, pinning her arms to her body as he held onto her shoulders. He shook his head and stared at her, his eyes wide and unblinking. “I’m not
accustomed to having to talk much about emotions. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t got any. Especially where you’re concerned.”
She was so floored, she didn’t have a comeback. Drake normally wore arrogance like the pair of wrap-around glasses he constantly sported. Except now. In her bedroom, both in Lisbon and Harmony, he faced her with his mind-bending gaze and something else. Seeing him waver … a sort of tender vulnerability came over him that was equally intoxicating. He, furtively sharing his Achilles heel, got to her.
Unless this was all a huge act. He was a player on an extreme level, being a sensuous shifter. Dragons were born knowing just what to say and do when it came to scoring.
Great, she was at the edge of a cliff with a choice. She could luxuriate in his consummate strength, power, and ability to drive her insane in bed. Enjoy herself as she’d done for days last summer. I mean hey, officially I can’t get any more pregnant than I already am.
Or conversely, she could dive into a sea of mental torture. Sludge through the cold, tumultuous waters where self-analysis, doubt, and second guessing his motives swirled, all too ready to drown her. If she basked in this moment, without trying to read the future or trying to formulate a set of ridiculous expectations, she might have a chance of not driving herself crazy.
Okay, fine, she’d ask for his honesty and if he stepped up to the plate, she’d meet him. Trust or game playing—she’d lay the choice in his court.
“More specifically, what do you feel? About me, I mean.”
He took a deep breath, seeming to sense this was a flipping fulcrum, and exhaled. “That you are complicated. So much more than anyone or any situation I’ve come across. Ever!” He smiled though, and the white of his teeth against his bronze face, even if it was a flash, made her chest tighten. She liked making him smile.
“No more than you ever were,” she returned, but far less caustic than she’d been throughout the last hour. He continued smiling down at her, and dipped his head, bringing his nose an inch or two above hers and sniffed.
“You smell so incredible. Like fresh green grass and something baked. Something delicious.” He waited, hovering above her face, but he moved over an inch, directly above her mouth now.
She stared into his mercurial green eyes with the power to bend her mind into a pretzel on so many levels. Oh jeez! She felt herself melt. “What should we do?” she whispered.
Without knowing why, the worry that she’d held onto vanished from her traitorous body. She actually shivered uncontrollably and would have sighed if she weren’t horrified to admit he still had the goods in getting her aroused.
“We can do this.” He must have felt her body relax and lowered his head, fusing their lips.
Oh. My. Lord! This wasn’t like before where their mouths, hands, and bodies needed hard, demanding, total fire. His lips were warm and inviting, and so unbelievably sensual, barely skimming hers. She liquefied under his seductive dragon kiss that was methodical and captivating. Dear God, the feel of his male hardness surrounding her, his glowing heat, his deep voice rumbling in his chest … it was all complete sin in the making.
Pleasure flash burned across her body, just beneath her skin. She moaned his name against his lips while running her fingers freely over the curving muscle along his arms.
Drake sucked her bottom lip between his teeth; his breathing deepened as he curled an arm under her waist. As she arched her body, melding to him, her fingers continued their mad trip up the contours of his arms, over his shoulders, up his corded neck, until she touched his chiseled jaw. He nibbled her lips until she opened her mouth to him, and plunged into her with his tongue. The power in that kiss made her simultaneously weak yet left her wanting so much more as her pleasure soared higher, sharper.
“Let me in. Trust me.” He moved over her, pushing her down but without holding her imprisoned under his weight.
“Oh, God,” she said. “You tempt me.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” He tipped her face, giving him better access to drive the sharp tines of his forked tongue across her lips, his beard scraping her chin. He cupped her ass cheek and rocked against the space where he’d owned her once before.
She was so wet and in need as coiling pleasure deep in her core pulsed for him. She groaned in frustration—a mixture of a feline growl and a womanly sigh as she sucked his tongue. He grunted and rubbed harder with his thigh, going deeper with his tongue. Hoisting her hips, he rocked his erection perfectly against her clothing encased clit, hard enough to make her jerk and then shudder, calling out his name as she flexed against him. She snaked her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer. He kissed her deeper, dissolving the thoughts right out of her head. Employing a sinful tempo, he teased her with his cock and tongue, rubbing his crown against her mound, and she opened her legs wider, needing him inside her. Right now!
“Please. Stop,” she hissed.
He reared back, gazing down at her with his brows drawn, the angles in his face chiseled sharper in worry. “Have I been too rough?”
“Oh. No,” she panted in a hoarse whisper. “Please, take off your shirt. I want to feel your skin.”
“Definitely a good call.” Drake barely lifted. The tension in his granite body became tauter when he grabbed the collar from behind his head and pulled his shirt off his body in one lithe gesture before he sent the shirt sailing to her solitary chair. When he leaned back down, adjusting his weight onto one of his elbows so he wouldn’t lie on her pelvis, she palmed his pecs and gasped in pleasure. His dazzling dragon gaze was as warm as his skin and he smiled. The brown discs around his nipples puckered when she swiped her fingernails across each tip. He sucked in his stomach, giving her an eyeful of what an eight-pack looked like up close. My. My. Someone has been working out.
“Tit for tat,” he whispered, kissing her lips. “Your turn, gorgeous.”
• • •
“Then you’ll have to get up so I can disrobe, Mr. O’Connor.” She stroked her palm along the side of his face and his whole body felt on fire. Allowing her room to move farther away from him? Not going to happen.
He raised his hands to her neckline and in one fell swoop, rent the front of her shirt in tattered halves. “Or we could just do it my way.”
His kitten stared wide-eyed back at him. Silent, but not for long and he moved with one mission in mind before she stormed. He knelt between her legs, reached under her lush bottom, and pulled her jeans off her hips. Without stopping, he removed her already unfastened pants as if he were a magician and she was wearing nothing but a checkerboard tablecloth. He unsnapped her bra, meeting her gaze.
“Uh…” she said, holding onto the straps.
“Let go,” he replied, tugging them out of her hands. “Your tits are mind-blowing.” She placed her palms across her exposed breasts. He moved, covering her mouth in a caressing sweep of his lips, kissing her back into silence, and refused to stop until her body relaxed against him.
“Drake,” she murmured against his lips as he removed her panties.
He spread his palm over her rounded belly and inhaled deeply. Holy hell! Running his fingers over Shay’s skin—he was dumbfounded. Partially in awe and Christ, his hands actually trembled. He stared down at her, spreading out his palms on her belly until only his thumbs touched and she lay before him. My mate. The mother of my children.
His cock throbbed. He needed to join their bodies and mark her. He lifted upright and rubbed his hands up her thighs. “You’re so unbelievably beautiful. Impossible to imagine you could be lovelier than you were during the summer … but you are.”
Shay spread her legs further apart as he moved in between. His cock was rock hard and he felt like a god the moment he aligned his crown with her pussy. He juddered and planted his palm next to her ribcage on the mattress. “I’ll be gentle with you, baby.”
Wet silk surrounded his crown as he drove into her warmth. She was tight, so tight his balls throbbed and he arched upward, sliding his tip into her.
He pumped his hips, sinking his cock deeper into Shay’s pussy. He watched her expression for suggestive nuances, and paid attention to what made her lips part and moan his name. This wasn’t fast and easy screwing—not that anything with Shay could be construed as fast or easy or simple. But this, oh yeah—this was making love to his mate. He found his rhythm, using his whole body to maneuver his cock and rub against her clit, then hit her G-spot, and she clenched around his dick.
Foreign territory if there ever was some, and not in any Special Forces field guide. Prickling sweat erupted along his shoulders as he held himself aloft over her, guarded against his consuming craving to mount her and fully claim her as his. Fuck!
“You feel so amazing. Shay, I could fuck you for hours.”
“Come closer to me.”
His senses were on fire from her pliable body under him, surrounding him, and his babies in her belly—this woman was his mate. His mate. The words echoed inside him. Over and over, he pumped his cock into her, getting his girl off. Threading pleasure tore through him and he fought to subdue the flames creeping up his throat as he held back from yelling her name. God, he was right there. Fuck, he felt himself on the verge of exploding and held back, holding her hips as he worked his crown at the mouth of her pussy.
“Tell me how this feels.”
“Drake, so so so so good!”
That’s all he needed to hear and he sped up his thrusts, not fully inside her for fear of hurting her or their children when he was this close to coming. “Shay,” he rasped as he emptied himself into her. Again, he came hard, spraying his release inside her.
Leaning over her body, he pressed his lips to hers, tasting the sweetness that had haunted him for five months and three weeks and two days. A lifetime. And he wanted more. So much more. He wanted all of her.
“Not too rough?” He stroked his fingers along her cheek, clenching internally at wanting more from her.
She shook her head.