Dragons and Mayhem

by Blair Babylon

  “It’s not your fault, you said.”

  He bobbed his head from side to side. “Right. And not. But okay. Anyway, thank you.”

  This was a lot better conversation than what Willow had been expecting, even if it was so awkward that she wanted to run and break through that plate-glass window and plummet fifty stories to the ground rather than have him apologize one more time. “Aw, that’s okay. I know it’s not your fault. And you meant something to me.” The truth came at her hard. “A lot. You meant a lot to me. I’m glad we can at least make it better, this way. I’m glad we’ll have a chance to be friends, so I can remember you as a friend.”

  His smile was so sad. “Yes. That’s true.”

  “I think it’s good that we can be friends. Don’t you?”

  He nodded, still with the same, sad smile. He probably thought he was hiding it.

  She spread her arms. “Come on. Let’s hug it out. We’re going to be friends!”

  Arawn hesitated. His eyes widened just the slightest bit.

  While she was standing there with her arms spread out to the sides like a giant idiot.

  A giant dragon-sized idiot.

  With her arms out.

  And a stupid grin on her face that was getting more rigid and like her lips were peeling back from her teeth by the second.

  She should put her arms down. She should say she was just kidding. Oh, my Ladies of Magic, what was wrong with her mouth?

  Arawn closed the gap between them with one stride of his long legs and enfolded her in his arms, turning what she had meant to be a quick, A-frame, fluttery back-pat-fest into him holding her, cradling her, with his arms wrapped tightly around her waist and shoulders.

  Her hands floated gently down to his back.

  She pressed her cheek against his shoulder.

  He drew her closer, and it felt like he was barely breathing.

  She couldn’t stop her arms from tightening around his neck and back.

  The faint scent of his cologne, something warm and sweet like bubbling sugar and fresh like the sky, emanated from the soft skin on his neck.

  She turned her face toward him, breathing in his familiar scent. She’d missed that about him, too, whether it was the sweetness that puffed from their sheets at night when he rolled over, or this, with the tip of her nose touching his neck, rubbing her cheek on the rough cloth of the shirt she’d poofed up for him.

  The black business suit of her jacket tightened around her shoulders because he’d grabbed handfuls of the fabric, but he didn’t kiss her. He didn’t grope her. He just pressed his cheek to her forehead and bent his body as far as he could, curling himself around her because he was so tall. Willow wasn’t a shrimp, but she stood on her toes so he wouldn’t tie himself in a knot.

  She breathed in his sugar and sky scent as the warmth from his body seeped through her clothes.

  His lips touched her temple.

  The soft brush near her hairline was so light that she didn’t have to say anything about it. It could be part of a hug between ex-lovers without anybody making a comment or reading anything into it.

  His kiss straddled that very faint line between innocent and asking for more.

  It could have been nostalgia. It could have been an accident.

  It didn’t have to lead to anything.

  Willow pressed up farther on her toes, and her lips sought the soft skin under Arawn’s jaw, where she knew he liked to be touched.

  When her mouth pressed against his soft, vulnerable skin and she felt his strong pulse against her lips, Arawn’s body stilled. He almost stopped breathing.

  Willow opened her lips and sucked gently, kissing his neck. She reached up the side of his face, bending his head toward her.

  His arms firmed, pressing her harder against his strong body.

  Willow let her teeth rake over his skin.

  He drove her back against the wall, slamming her against the plaster, but his hand was behind her neck to protect her skull. He grabbed both her hands and pinned them above her head.

  His face was right in front of hers, almost nose-to-nose. His voice cracked as he whispered, “Tell me you want this.”

  “Yes,” she said, a whimper and nearly a sob in her voice. “I missed you so much.”

  “Oh, Willow. Me, too. Me, too.”

  His arms were around her, and he tossed her in his arms and flew for the bed.

  Her head was already spinning, but she was quite sure he flew, that once they were through the bedroom door, his feet didn’t touch the floor, and they sailed through the air. She tumbled onto the crisp sheets and huge bed.

  As she flipped over, looking behind her and flipping her long hair out of her eyes, Arawn tore off his shirt. He grabbed handfuls of the cotton and tore the fabric clean off his body, dragging the sleeves down his strong arms.

  Whoa. Somebody was really wound up.

  Strong, sleek muscle wrapped him, from the cords around his waist to the heavy plates over his chest and shoulders. His biceps bulged where he ripped the white cloth away.

  Wow.

  He clambered onto her, his mouth seeking hers.

  Willow grabbed the smooth flesh of his shoulders and held on while he kissed her, his lips rough against her mouth, and then he followed her down as she lay back.

  His hands caressed her, and his lips followed. When she tried to sit up to touch him, he pressed her back against the bed. He’d always been bossy in bed, she fretted.

  Next to her ear, Arawn whispered, “Let me bite you.”

  “Are you a vampire, too?” she asked, a catch of fear in her voice. She’d never heard of such a thing as a dragon shifter-slash-vampire, but with supernaturals, even she wasn’t sure what was possible. No one was.

  His low chuckle was sexy. “No. I’m not a vampire, and not like that. You’ll like it. I couldn’t do it before because I wouldn’t have been able to explain it.”

  “What will it do?”

  “Make you feel good,” he whispered. “Make you feel wonderful.”

  “Okay.” Even though she was still a little unsure.

  His mouth settled on her neck, sucking and nipping, while his hand caressed her waist and ribs.

  His lips roved downward, nearer to her shoulder, and his teeth got rougher on her skin.

  Just as the sharpness of his teeth started to burn, his thumb found her nipple, and he caressed slow circles that made her squirm. She arched under him, filling his hand with her breast, and he slid his fingers over her, pulling.

  She almost didn’t notice how hard he was biting her shoulder until her skin began to sting, and wild euphoria shot through her. Her head spun, but she didn’t feel sick. His bite turned soft, sucking and licking her skin. The ouch subsided, but the crazy spinning and desperate lust for him crested in her head and body.

  Without even thinking about it, she grabbed his jeans and yanked, hard, trying to feel his skin against hers. The denim came away in her fingers, leaving nothing but that great expanse of hard, smooth, male skin.

  With his bare ass in her hand and his naked shoulder in front of her face, she bit him, too.

  A growl rumbled from somewhere deep inside him, and he raked his teeth over her throat again.

  This time, it felt great. Her whole body lifted off the bed, trying to force his teeth to bite her harder.

  He was already salving the area with his lips and tongue, but she was flying. “Oh, gods, Arawn. Make love to me, make love to me.”

  “Not yet.”

  She was delirious with the scent of sweet, sweet sugar and the feel of his hands and the warmth of his mouth on her. She was struggling with her clothes, trying to unbutton her blouse. When she couldn’t, she grabbed his hand and held it there, and he got the idea and stripped her clothes off of her and his skin rubbed all of hers. “Please.”

  The heat of his mouth enveloped her breast, suckling. She threaded her fingers into the blond silk of his hair, the short strands slipping between her fingers, luxuria
ting in the feeling as his mouth moved lower. He ran his tongue around her belly button and nipped the crease of her thigh as he ran his hands around her legs.

  She caught his shoulders. “No. I want you inside me. I want to feel you.”

  “You will.”

  “Not if you go there.”

  “Trust me.”

  And she had no choice because as his warm, wet tongue licked the outside of her folds in a long, slow stroke, her hands lifted over her head and she tossed her head back and forth, needing more.

  He wasn’t hesitant at all. He never had been. Each rub of his tongue through her folds was firm and slippery, exploring rather than just going for it. He took minutes. It felt like hours. But he finally deepened the strokes of his tongue and his lips locked over her.

  Willow grabbed the sheets behind her as her orgasm roared through her, a dark hurricane that blinded and deafened her as she cried out.

  When her fingers unlocked from the sheets, she was panting, and Arawn was above her, braced on his arms. “Ready for more?”

  “No. I won’t be able to. I have a twenty-four-hour reset button, remember?” And yet, her head was still spinning.

  “Not with my venom in your veins, you don’t.”

  He pushed slowly into her, their flesh slipping and moving easily, and Willow was already flying again. “Arawn—”

  “Yes,” he said, his hard body undulating over her with a sexy ripple from his shoulders to his hips. “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I’m going to—”

  “Yes,” he whispered, lowering himself to bury his head in her neck again and use the leverage to push harder into her. “Yes, you are.”

  Her body clenched around him, her arms and legs cinched around his waist and shoulders as he rubbed inside her, driving her farther into delirium. She couldn’t hear herself crying out for more, more as he took her, his body at once familiar and loved and yet so desperately missed.

  He slammed into her, shaking her apart as she thrashed under him, a blinding light and fire leaking from her every pore. Her mind was gone. Her body throbbed with ecstasy and reverberated with his climax. He whispered in her ear, “Yes. Yes, my Willow. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

  She didn’t stop.

  She couldn’t.

  Her body beat against his as he twisted his hips and shoved into her, each stroke deeper and sending her higher.

  When the rapture was too much and was just about to turn to blinding pain, he slowed, dragging her down from too great a height, and she was gasping in his arms.

  He kissed her temples, her jaw, and as she blinked uncomprehendingly, he rolled off of her and gathered her into his arms.

  She demanded, “What the hell was that?”

  He frowned. “You didn’t like it?”

  “Oh, my God. I loved it. It was too much. I have never—I didn’t know it was—That was not natural.”

  He grinned. “No, it was supernatural. Dragons have a special kind of magic.”

  She swatted his shoulder. “What the hell did you do to me?”

  He laid back on the sheets, still with that big grin on his face. “Dragons are venomous. It’s a euphoric but very mild toxin.”

  “You mean you could have done that to me all those times we had sex?”

  “Well, no. I couldn’t. Too many questions.”

  “I hate you.” She collapsed on the bed, still panting. “You could have done that to me all those months. I hate you so much.”

  He laughed and rolled over to prop his head up and grin down at her. “The venom doesn’t last very long, but while it does, it’s very effective.”

  “What on Earth do you mean?”

  “Your pupils are still dilated. You’re still under its influence.”

  “What are you saying, that I shouldn’t drive?”

  “No, that I can get you off any way I want, as many times as I want.”

  “What? No, you can’t. Especially not after two. Especially not after that last one.”

  He slid one hand down her belly to her folds, slipped a finger inside her damp skin, and very gently, rubbed little circles around her clit until it felt too good, and a tightness took hold of her, and her hips bucked under his hand as the knot between her legs tightened and then released with a hail of throbs that she couldn’t control.

  She eventually opened her eyes, still gasping. “That’s insane.”

  He laughed and flipped her over, dragging her hips to the edge of the bed, where he stood behind her with one of his wide hands splayed on her back and one on her hips and took her that way, hard, until the rubbing deep inside her gathered another irresistible force and rushed through her body and mind as she cried out his name.

  When the light gathered around her again, slowly pushing away the darkness, Willow was so tired and losing her ability to think at all, she realized she was in the center of the bed and on her side, her legs open and one leg resting on top of Arawn’s hip as he spooned her from behind and slowly pushed into her. His hand pressed her clit and the top of her folds, just a gentle, rolling pressure, and he pressed back from inside her.

  Even though he was gentle, even though he was barely moving and just varying the intensity of the pressure of his hand with a slow, steady throb, another orgasm bloomed inside her, blossomed, and when he allowed it, blew her away.

  “Okay,” she gasped, so exhausted that her eyes would not open. “You win. Goddesses of Magic, Arawn. I don’t even know what’s happened to me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, and they slept for a while until Arawn ordered room service for them. They both tried to eat, but halfway through the meal, he carried her back to the bed and bit her again, then oh-so-slowly made love to her until dawn.

  As the sun broke over the horizon, he whispered, “I have always loved you.”

  Potions Witch

  FOR the first time in six months, Arawn watched the dawning, golden light touch Willow Sage’s face.

  The sunlight glistened on her cheekbones first, and then the soft blond and pink of her hair spread over the pillow behind her. He liked the pink streaks. They were new, but they seemed soft, and pretty, and touchable, just like Willow.

  Arawn waited, not moving, lest he wake her.

  The sun drifted into the sky, spreading light over the bedroom of the penthouse suite. The blue and silver curtains around the bed almost made it look like she was sleeping in his villa back in New Wales, where he would sleep with his mate someday.

  Grief pierced his heart, but he told it to go away. Not today, pain. Not right now, loss. As long as they never stirred from this bed, his true dragonmate would never find him.

  A stupid and desperate plan formed in his head: that they would never leave the suite, that he would do all his work via his computer and email, that room service would leave the food and clean laundry outside the door to be retrieved when the coast was clear, and they could live out their lives together and alone like a deserted island in the sky.

  His dragon liked the idea of a deserted island in the sky.

  Arawn waited for it to go back to sleep before he had any more thoughts. The Dark Other was the last thing he needed to deal with right now, with its anger and appetites.

  Just as the Dark Other stuttered and faded out, Willow opened her eyes. “Hi. You up?”

  “I suppose.”

  She stretched, her curves swelling under the sheet. “I’ve got to admit, I could have slept for another month after your ‘dragon magic’ last night.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “I can’t believe that you could have done that to me every night, and you were holding out on me.” She rubbed the smooth skin of her shoulder. “You bit me so hard, even broke the skin, but it’s fine, now. It’s all healed up.”

  Arawn nodded. “Just another example of dragon magic.”

  “Well, we witches sure don’t have any magic like that. I can make a couple of different healing potions. I whipped up a good Philter of Revelati
ons when I was in Paris. There are some useful ones like the Draught of Night Vision and the Elixir of the Paragon. The Phial of Rage can be kind of scary, but it’s useful for forging useless worry into righteous anger. I suppose the Elixir of Phantoms might have some euphoric qualities, but I don’t think any potion could do what you did to me last night.”

  Witches’ magic, Arawn thought.

  “I should really learn some more,” Willow said. “Not love potions, mind you. But euphoric potions. Sex potions. Maybe there are some obscure tantric potions. I’ll have to look on Witchipedia.”

  Love potions.

  Arawn drew in a breath, surprised. “Can you make a love potion?”

  “Oh, no,” Willow said quickly, shaking her head on the pillow so fast that it vibrated. “No. Love potions are highly unethical.”

  “They can’t be. Love isn’t unethical.”

  “They make you fall in love. They take away free will. Free will is the most important thing.”

  “I don’t have any free will.”

  Willow stopped speaking. She just blinked, looking at him.

  He was scaring her off, but he couldn’t stop himself from talking. “I don’t. I don’t have free will. I was considering locking us in here forever and seeing no one but you for the rest of my life.”

  “That wouldn’t work,” Willow told him.

  “I know. If it is fate, then the dragonmate out there would circumvent it somehow. When this dragonmate comes for me and she will, I won’t be able to choose.”

  Willow’s brows twitched together. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “If you make a love potion for me, I can choose whether or not to drink it. I will have free will in that.”

  “But you said—”

  “I am. I am in love with you, but something’s wrong with me. If she shows up, maybe a potion will stop the mating fever or short-circuit it somehow. Maybe if I’m already magically enamored with you, maybe my dragonmate will walk past me and live her life and be happy without me, but I can stay with you.”

  “If you would have asked me this six months ago—”

  “I didn’t know you were a witch six months ago. I didn’t know this was even an option. I thought I was cursed by fate to be hunted down by that dragonmate out there and lose my mind. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”