Fire in His Fury

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Fire in His Fury Page 26

by Ruby Dixon


  My mate, my sweet, lovely Amy…is being a tease and enjoying herself. It makes me want her all the more. Do with me as you like, my fires. I am yours.

  “I know,” she says in that coy, flirty little voice of hers, and more pre-cum beads atop my cock at hearing that. I love seeing her so confident, so playful.

  My perfect, beautiful mate.

  Amy's long pale hair slides over her shoulder as she sits up and grips my cock, wrapping her fingers around my length. She gives me another light caress and then leans in, the tip of her tongue between her lips in anticipation of tasting me.

  Before I can draw another breath, her mouth is on me. Hot. Wet. Indescribable. She makes a little sound of enjoyment at my taste, and I can feel the pleasure spiral through her mind. She likes my flavor. She likes the feel of my cock against her tongue. She flicks the tip of it against my shaft and then traces me with her tongue, exploring me with it like she did her fingers. I groan and fist my hand in her soft hair. It is all I can do to remain still under her ministrations. I do not want to disturb her, because she might stop.

  I want anything but that.

  This is…one of the most incredible things I have ever felt. It is almost as if my cock is sheathed in her cunt once more, she is so hot and wet. But instead of the unrelenting tight clench of her cunt, I feel the slick drag of her tongue against the underside of my shaft, the tickle of her lips against my skin, the suction of her mouth as she tries to take me deep. It is different, and it is exceedingly pleasant.

  No, more than that. It is intense and could shatter a male's control in a matter of breaths, especially when she makes those little sounds as she suckles me. Amy makes it seem as if she has no pleasure greater than taking me into her mouth, and it only makes my cock harder. I want to thrust into the sweet warmth of her mouth, to fuck it like I fuck her cunt, but I dare not. I am hers to claim like this.

  Amy moans and glances up at me even as she slides me deeper into her mouth, her hand curled at the root of my cock. The sight of her like that is almost too much to bear. My breath hisses from my body and my sac tightens as if I am about to spill, and I quickly pull her off of my cock. It is too quick, too soon.

  She casts me a hurt look as I pull her away. Did I do something wrong?

  I shake my head. I am panting. Incredible. It is too much. I will spill in your mouth if I lose control—

  Good. That's what I want. She lowers her head again.

  No, my fires, wait—

  No, she tells me stubbornly. Let me love you like this. Her mouth descends on my cock once more and her hand pumps at my shaft. She suckles me again, teasing with her tongue and then taking me deep, so deep that I can feel the back of her throat tighten against my cockhead. Feel how good it makes me feel to touch you like this.

  I cannot. If I touch her thoughts like that, I will explode.

  Don't you like this? she cajoles. The sight of me taking you into my mouth? The feel of my tongue? My hands? The—

  I growl and wrap my hand in her hair again, my hips bucking involuntarily forward, as if my body has a mind of its own. I can feel her gasp of surprise when I thrust hard into her mouth, but then she moans around my length and her arousal sweetens the air. Oh, she moans, both in her head and aloud. Do that again, Rast. I love that.

  I can deny my mate nothing. With a groan, I slide back and then push into her mouth again, careful not to harm her with my strength. Her eyes close with bliss and she tightens her mouth around me. She loves this as much as I do. I grit my teeth, determined not to spill too quickly, and begin to fuck her mouth with my cock, using my hips as I hold her head steady to receive me. With this angle—me on my back and her over me—I can watch every expression on her face, and it only adds to my pleasure.

  Perhaps too much. I feel my body tighten once more, my sac drawing up. I try to pull her back, to extend the pleasure, but she wraps a hand around the base of my shaft and squeezes, even as she tightens her mouth and sucks hard, unwilling to let me go. With a mental shout of her name, I come, spilling into her soft, delicious mouth. She releases me then, and as I pull out, my seed trails over her lips and tongue, and down her pretty chin. It is the most feral and obscene thing I have ever seen, and I am riveted by the sight, even as my release sucks the breath from my body. I lie panting in bed, struggling to recover from how hard I have come even as she licks every bit of my seed clean from her face.

  And then she gives me the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Now I carry your scent everywhere, don't I?

  She is the most perfect creature ever. Never have I felt so content, so at peace with who and what I am. It does not matter if I am fully drakoni or not. All that matters is making my Amy happy. Growling low, I grab her by the waist and flip her onto her back on the bed, pushing up her skirts.

  Now it is your turn.

  The only thing better than her sigh of happiness are the other sighs I wring from her moments later.

  26

  AMY

  We spend every moment of the next few days preparing for the inevitable confrontation. I work side by side with Gwen, doing our best to calm the fears of the others when they realize that no, we aren’t going to give in to what the nomads want. We’re going to fight back, and we’re going to use a dragon to do so. There’s a lot of hysteria, especially when people see Rast switch to his battle-form. It takes time for people to realize that he’s not going to snatch them up and eat them, no matter how many times I reassure them and caress my dragon’s muzzle to let them know he’s on our side.

  It’s a bit annoying to Rast, but he’s endlessly patient, especially where the children are concerned. It’s like he instinctively wants to protect them, and it makes my heart squeeze happily.

  While Gwen and I make plans, Rast hunts down a few cows and brings them back to the fort. His rationale is that a well-fed people are stronger and less frightened, and by the end of the first day, I see children approaching him to try and pet him. Rast flicks his tail a little, but otherwise doesn’t object, even when sticky little hands slap at his scales. My sweet, patient dragon. Did I ever think he wasn’t my knight in shining armor? How wrong I was.

  My part’s a lot easier than Rast’s—we meet with each family and assign them hiding spots outside of the fort. If everything should go badly, I want them to have the opportunity to escape. Supply bags are made, weapons are distributed, and we scope out the nearby suburb streets that surround the school and make sure that everyone has someplace to hide for when the nomads arrive.

  It all goes smoothly, and I find that these people work well together. More than that, they listen to me as if I’m a voice of wisdom. I kind of like that. Strange to think that I’m the expert on something for a change, instead of the burden. But after the last few months? I know a lot about dragons.

  And after Emma’s run in with nomads, I know that you can’t play around with them. You can’t go by their rules. You have to go at them fast and hard and you have to show them you mean business. I plan on grinding them into the dust and making them beg for ever screwing with Gwen and her fort.

  I just hope that Gwen’s sister is still alive. But if she isn’t, we can save the rest of the fort.

  Theoretically.

  Vaan is another problem. Though the wild dragon is listening to Rast when Rast assures him that we’re trying to find his mate, he’s quickly losing patience with the idea of staying away from Fort Shreveport. I know it’s hard for him because his mind is crazed, but having him show up mid-nomad-meeting is the last thing we need. It’s getting harder and harder to get through to him, and soon enough we’re going to have to find out who his female is and see how she wants to handle things, because Vaan’s only got one focus—his mate—and he’s not about to give up on her. But it’s been so crazy in the fort itself I haven’t had much time to sleuth out who she is.

  If it’s Daniela, we’re going to have a problem if she doesn’t return. But if it is Daniela, why is he still at the fort and not chasing her d
own from the nomads? Unless he’s lost her scent entirely and just keeps returning to the last place he scented her.

  All I know is that we can only handle one problem at a time, and right now, Vaan is problem number two. Still a problem, but not as immediate. For now, he’ll have to wait.

  He might snap, but hopefully not before we can solve the nomad issue.

  27

  AMY

  TWO DAYS LATER

  They come, Rast tells me as I shove supplies into a bag alongside Gwen inside the gymnasium. Rast is outside in the courtyard, watching to make sure Vaan remains a safe distance away. Lately it’s been more difficult for the wild dragon to wait. He creeps closer and closer to the fort, but at least he’s not torching things. It’s a terrible compromise, but it’s all we’ve got for now. I can hear the purr of their machines.

  I lift my head from my task, all alertness. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. “You’re sure?”

  I am. Shall I fly out and see how close they are?

  Gwen stares at me. I ignore her, concentrating on Rast. “Can you do it without alerting them?”

  I will fly low. He sends a wave of affection to my thoughts. And I will not go far. You will be safe, never fear.

  I’m not afraid, I tell him, and nod at Gwen. “They’re coming. Rast’s going to scout for us. Time to round everyone up.”

  Gwen jumps to her feet and races across the room. She grabs an air horn—one we’ve been saving for such an occasion—and gives it a blast. I wince, rubbing my ears. People pour in, herding along children and loved ones, as Gwen and Andrea and I hand out packs. They know they need to scatter just in case.

  I’m hoping we never need that “just in case” scenario, but I’ve also learned not to overestimate how low humanity will sink.

  We herd people out of the city and make sure the streets are cleared while Rast watches from the rooftop of the school. He sends me visuals every now and then, showing me how close the nomads are coming. I can see a fleet of bikes in the distance through his eyes, and count up six men. Six against an entire fort. It makes me so frustrated. They’re picking on Gwen’s fort simply because they were foolish enough to be kind to strangers. Surely there’s still a place in this world for kindness to others.

  There is, my dragon reassures me. His thoughts are vague, distracted.

  You all right, Rast? I ask, limping over to my seat in the gym while Gwen and Andrea usher the last of the families out to hiding.

  Vaan is agitated, he tells me. He waits nearby. Says the smell of his mate is growing stronger.

  Because we’re sending the others out into the abandoned houses? Or because the nomads are bringing back Daniela?

  I do not know. Trying to decipher his mind is like trying to peer through smoke.

  “Can you hold him off?” I ask, moving to sit in a folding chair. This could be bad if my dragon—our muscle for intimidating the nomads—can’t be in our meeting because he has to keep the other dragon at bay.

  I can. Give me but a moment. He sends a mental caress and then his mind detaches from mine, and I know he needs everything he has to concentrate. I can hear a distant roar of disagreement, as if Vaan doesn’t like what he’s being told. Crap.

  “Who are you talking to?” Andrea asks, curious.

  “My dragon.” I rub my forehead. “The other dragon’s acting up. He’s having to push hard at him to try to keep him back.”

  Gwen moves to my side, pale. She’s got a gun belted at her waist and a knife at her hip. Andrea has her favorite shotgun slung over her shoulder, though she’s ditched her firefighting gear today for jeans and a plain T-shirt. Without it, she looks prettier, almost like a model. Certainly too girly to be a gun-toting badass. Andrea frowns at me, flicking her braid over her shoulder. “What does that mean, acting up? I thought your dragon scared him off?”

  “It means that he’s looking for someone and he’s more convinced now than ever that the person he wants is here in the city. And he wants to meet her.”

  Andrea’s eyes go wide. “Meet…her?”

  Gwen looks pale. “He wants a girlfriend? Like your dragon?”

  “A mate,” I correct firmly, and nod. “And yes. He’s scented someone that he thinks is his mate, and he will stop at nothing to get to her. A mate’s the only thing that can restore his sanity, and so he’s going to press hard to come after whoever it is. We need to get a record of everyone who left the fort recently and might have gone out far enough for a dragon to pick up her scent.”

  Gwen and Andrea exchange a look. No one says anything.

  I bite back a sigh of annoyance. “We can deal with this after the nomads, but it’s not a problem that’s going to go away. Hiding won’t change anything. We’ll talk about it later. For now, let’s focus on getting Daniela back. Once Rast has Vaan under control, he’ll come join us.”

  Andrea’s expression softens. “His name is Vaan? The other dragon?”

  Mmm, interesting. I nod and pat the flat surface in front of me. “Let’s table that for now. Who’s got the list of demands? Andrea, give me the clipboard. Gwen, go find a window and let me know when they’re coming, since Rast is busy.”

  The women dart off, and I prepare the folding table we’ve set up. It’s got a colorful tablecloth over it, and glasses of fresh water set out. There are six of them, so I unfold six metal chairs for them and three for us (since Rast prefers to stand behind me), then set the places at the table. It feels a little ridiculous to set up a “picnic” of sorts, as Andrea called it, but there are a lot of reasons to do something like this. It shows them we’re unafraid. It shows them we know just how many of them there are around. It gives a civilized setting to things—and provides us a bit of leverage. It’s harder to grab at a woman when she’s seated across from you.

  And really, setting a table and inviting my enemies to dine reminds me of something an old-school queen would do. Plus, it’ll set them on edge. They’ll think we’re up to something. And we will be…just not in the way they think. They’re going to be expecting poison, not a dragon.

  I’m almost excited for this confrontation.

  I return, Rast sends to me. They are almost here.

  I’m in the gym, I tell him. Come and get dressed. I have clothes for you. I can practically feel his groan of dismay, and bite back my nervous laughter. It’s necessary, I promise. They’ll really be rattled if you hang out naked. It’ll show our hand quicker than we want to.

  Not an entirely bad idea, he grumbles.

  How is Vaan?

  Ready to pick off the nomads at a moment’s notice. He is more difficult to reason with by the hour. I trust we will have an answer for his mate soon. His tone indicates he thinks the women here are being silly by not speaking up.

  Maybe they are, in his eyes, but I understand it. A dragon can be fearsome and frightening. They’re still seen as murderous monsters to most people. It’s going to take some time for someone to adjust to the idea that they’ve got a dragon in love with them from afar.

  Let the female take all the time she wants, as long as she does it in his arms. Rast sounds impatient. But we will do it your way for a little longer.

  Thank you, babe.

  The gym doors open a moment later and Gwen trots in, looking embarrassed. She’s got binoculars in her hand and races forward. “They’re coming, and uh, so is your dragon guy.”

  A split second later, Rast walks in, buck naked and golden, swaggering forward as if he owns the place. Gwen looks very intently at the list of demands in front of me, and I can practically feel just how flustered she is. I guess she’s not used to dragon nudity like I am. I rise to my feet to greet my dragon, and he moves toward me and clasps me against him, giving me a fierce kiss that leaves me breathless. I’m surprised—but pleased—at the demonstration.

  After spending so much time in Vaan’s mind, it makes me grateful that I have you, my Amy. Now show me these terrible clothes so I may chafe at your side.

  I can’t
help but giggle.

  A few minutes later, Gwen and Andrea are seated beside me at the table, trying to look calm. Rast is dressed in a new set of human clothes, this time sweatpants and a T-shirt with a construction logo on it. He wears a cap and sunglasses to hide his face once more, and remains behind me, one hand on my shoulder. When the nomads arrive, it’s going to look like I’m in charge—which is good. We want to present a neutral party to them. One that has no personal ties to Daniela or the city itself, and can’t be manipulated.

  Plus, you are the one mated to the dragon. That gives you all the power, Rast reminds me.

  He’s not wrong. If we were back in Fort Dallas, I’d be quaking in fear at the thought of meeting with nomads. Now I’m excited, because I can’t wait to put them in their places.

  The doors open. Andrea gets to her feet, her shotgun on her shoulder. Gwen remains seated next to me, but she’s tense. I do my best to appear as calm as possible, and Rast squeezes my collarbone lightly, reminding me of his presence. Cass steps forward, dressed in her fireman gear, her own gun at her side. She looks at us, and I can tell she’s nervous. “Guests are here.”

  The nomads saunter in behind her, and one slaps her ass. I can practically see Cass grit her teeth, but she says nothing, just steps to the side and lets them approach.

  The Brothers of Ash are exactly what I expected when I heard that there were nomads in the area. It’s six men, all wearing leather vests and new-ish clothing. The leader has a salt-and-pepper beard and a bit of a gut, which tells me that they’re well-fed nomads. I’m betting that Fort Shreveport isn’t the only fort they’ve bullied. Behind him are a few other men of various sizes and shapes. One’s tall and thin, one’s short and fat. One has terrible teeth. One’s scarred and hideous. One leers at me like he sees me naked. All of them look mean and they carry weapons at their waists, guns and knives. I’ve no doubt that they’ve had more practice with them than Andrea probably has had with her shotgun.

 

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