The Mountain Dragon's Curvy Mate

by Zoe Chant

  “It’s not marked,” she said, as she stopped in front of the counter.

  “No, but it doesn’t need to be. Hold out your hand and take a second step toward the sink.”

  She did as he asked, though she gave him a skeptical look. Then the counter under her hand glowed slightly. “Oh,” she said, stepping back a little in surprise. “That—that’s it?”

  “That’s it,” he said. “It’s primed for a human touch.”

  8

  She couldn’t quite believe what she was doing. “So I just…what?”

  “Keep reaching out,” he said. He couldn’t resist; he reached out himself and put his hand on her back, just to be closer to her, to feel her warmth. “And it’ll come to you.”

  “Okay,” she said. She sounded skeptical, but she stretched her hand out further. I’m learning to use a powerful anti-dragon weapon, she thought to herself. In the kitchen. This is crazy.

  But if it can keep me safe…

  The counter glowed more brightly, and by the time her hand was directly over the marble surface, she could see the blaster under the countertop, like it was covered in glass.

  “Go ahead,” Brad said. “Take it.”

  She reached through the glass. It was a strange sensation; there was definitely something there, something magical, but she passed through it easily. Like Jello, almost, only room temperature.

  The blaster itself—that seemed like the only thing to call it—was cool to the touch. She picked it up carefully with her right hand, making sure she didn’t put a finger on the trigger. It was bronze and red, the right size for a human and disconcertingly shiny for something that could strip a dragon of his magic. “Very…Spaceman Spiff,” she said.

  “The last time it was redesigned, we were kids,” he said, a little apologetically. He still had his hand on her back, just above her waist. It felt really good.

  “So what do I do with it now? Just point and shoot?”

  “Just point and shoot,” he said. “I mean, do it carefully. If you just press the trigger once, like shooting a gun, it gives a very small amount of anti-magic. It’s enough to make someone think twice, but it’s not damaging if you hit someone accidentally. If you need to really stop someone or work your way through an illusion, you have to pull the trigger multiple times, or just hold the trigger down.”

  That made sense. “So if I aimed at the countertop and pulled the trigger—”

  “You’d see the mechanism that protects the blaster, like it was completely exposed to you.” He paused. “But don’t, please. The magic that holds this place together is…basically constructed to do just that, and every bit of anti-magic weakens it. On a normal day, it’d be fine, but with—”

  “Evil dragons burrowing into your mountain?”

  He laughed, a little bitterly. “I hope not evil, but—yeah.”

  “Bad dragons?”

  “I guess that’s not much better.” He reached out and put his arm fully around her waist, pulling her gently closer. “Dragons that weren’t brought up right.”

  “Dragons with poor social skills.”

  His laugh at that was a lot happier. “Let’s eat, I think it’s rested long enough.”

  “Definitely.” It smelled delicious. Brad’s uncle might have been fussy and lack social skills, but he either made good lasagna or knew how to get good lasagna. She couldn’t remember the last time something had smelled so good. She carefully put the blaster back.

  “You sit down, I’ll bring it to you.”

  “I don’t mind—”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’ve had a hard day. I don’t mind either.”

  “All right,” she said, and went back to the table. It wasn’t gilded, just a nice solid wooden table with carved feet that looked like talons. Dragon feet, Rachel supposed. The silverware was shiny and felt heavy and expensive, though Rachel was pretty sure it was stainless steel, not real silver, and the napkins were some kind of heavy cloth. “Do you…always live like this?”

  “I don’t eat on china and linen every night, no,” he said. “Actually, I’m not getting the china out tonight, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

  “I’ll manage,” she said, grinning.

  “I don’t think we have any wine, will water be all right? Or there’s beer, or soda—”

  “Water’s good,” she said. “Not too cold, still, please.”

  “We just have normal glasses, if it’s any consolation. I know this feels fancy. This is usually where we get together for family meetings, holidays—it’s for special occasions, so we have some of our more special things here. At home it’s usually paper napkins. When I have a napkin.”

  “Where do you actually live?”

  “Not far from here,” he said. “It’s important to stay within quick flying distance if you’re managing a lair.” He put a steaming plate of lasagna down in front of her, and a full glass of water. “It looks good, anyway.”

  “It sure does,” she agreed.

  He took his own plate and sat opposite her. “I have an apartment, it’s not much, but I don’t need much. If I want to relax, really have time to myself, I come out here, look out the windows. It’s kind of a retreat from everyday life. No one calls you out here unless it’s an emergency, so you really have all the time you want to do whatever it is you’ve got in mind.”

  “What do you do, when you’re out here relaxing?” She hadn’t seen a TV or anything but the single sound system.

  “I draw,” he said. “It’s just a hobby, but I love it. It helps me see things—aw, this sounds dumb.”

  “No it doesn’t,” she said. “Tell me.”

  “I can see things more clearly and carefully when I draw. It—gives me perspective.”

  “That’s not dumb at all,” she said. She took a bite of the lasagna. It was cheesy and savory, and she could taste garlic and onions and spice. “Mmmm,” she said, surprised at how good it was.

  “Good?”

  She nodded.

  He tried a forkful. “Oh, that is good,” he said. “At least Doug did one thing right.”

  She felt a little bad that he was so angry at his uncle. “I’m sure he’s not that bad.”

  Brad sighed. “He’s not, that’s the worst part. But he can really be clueless sometimes. And…this is one of those times. But the lasagna’s good. I wish we had something for dessert.”

  She thought about suggesting herself for dessert. Would that be too forward? But he thought she was his mate—

  “What are you thinking?” he said. “You’re starting to blush.”

  “I wasn’t—I wasn’t really thinking of anything,” she lied.

  “You sure?”

  “I—” Her face felt like it was on fire, and the rest of her wasn’t exactly cold. She shifted in her seat. “Let’s—we need to eat.”

  “We do need to eat,” he agreed. “I’m sure…I’m sure I can eat.”

  “Yes.” Though it wasn’t easy. Brad spent a lot of the meal with his eyes focused on her, watching her mouth as she ate. Rationally, she knew she needed to eat—to keep her strength up, and to make sure she healed fully from her injuries—but what she really wanted to do was get up from the table and drop herself into Brad’s lap. If the lasagna hadn’t been so good, she might not have been able to eat anything at all.

  “I’m sorry you were hurt,” he said. “But I’m not sorry you’re here.”

  “I’m not either,” she said. She’d just been introduced to a whole new world—a world that was full of magic and dragons. And gold. Not without dangers, of course, but she didn’t feel like she was in danger when she was with Brad. She felt safe.

  “I’ll protect you,” he said. “Whatever happens—I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not again.”

  She believed him. Completely. “I know,” she said. “I—feel it.”

  “That’s what it’s like,” he said. “When you know you belong together.”

  “It’s hard to belie
ve,” she said. “But I guess it’s no harder to believe than anything else that’s happened to me today.”

  “Have you met other dragon shifters?”

  “Not…that I knew were shifters,” she said. “I mean, it’s possible. But I’m pretty sure you’re my first. Unless you count whoever attacked me.”

  “We’re not counting them,” he said, firmly.

  She took another bite of her lasagna. Probably she wouldn’t have enjoyed it this much if it hadn’t been the first real food she ate after almost dying, and if she wasn’t in the company of such a handsome man, but that didn’t really matter. It tasted delicious, and being with Brad was like some kind of fairy-tale dream come true.

  He was watching her eat, in a way that made her face—and the rest of her body—start heating up all over again. “Do you have any of your drawings here? I’d love to see your work.”

  “I—there’s a few sketchbooks with my hoard,” he confessed. “I’m just an amateur.”

  “That’s all right. I still—it’s part of you, right? So I’d like to see it.”

  He smiled at that, and his smile was so warm and affectionate she wanted to put her fork down and—

  Well, why not?

  She put her fork down and stood up. She walked around the table and leaned down to Brad, who was already tilting his face up toward her, and kissed him.

  He slid his chair back and swept her back into his arms, pulling her down into his lap. His kiss was strong and sure, and his arms felt so strong on her back. Dinner could wait.

  “I was hoping you’d do that,” he whispered against her ear when they broke the kiss.

  “I’m glad I did,” she confessed. She was sitting cross-wise on his lap, and she could feel his erection pushing against her jeans. He felt big.

  “I am too,” he said. “Maybe—I guess the rest of dinner could wait a bit, huh? I could take you up to see my…drawings.”

  “I’d like to see everything,” she said, knowing how true it was. She didn’t just want to make love to him—though that sure sounded great—she wanted to know him. Everything about him. She wanted to be part of this new world of dragons and magic and gold.

  “Okay,” he said, and lifted her up as easily as if she were a feather, not a grown woman. “Let me show you.”

  He carried her down the hall to his hoard, stopping as they went for an urgent kiss or two.

  He smelled clean, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. It was nice.

  Better yet was the sure way he touched her, his arms keeping her steady as he walked swiftly toward his hoard. Toward that bed with the soft, golden bedspread.

  “I want to take you flying,” he said. “As soon as we can—”

  “I feel like I’m flying right now,” she confessed.

  He unlocked the door to his hoard, and it felt like the room was nothing but glowing, warm gold. He placed her delicately on the bed, sitting right on the edge, and went to take a step back. She didn’t let him. Instead, she pulled him close and tugged at his clothes.

  It seemed like there was an awful lot to take off: his sweater, then a pale blue button-up shirt, then a white t-shirt underneath. But then she could see his broad, muscular chest. She reached her palms across his chest, trying to touch as much of his skin as she could. He didn’t have much chest hair; she wondered if it was a dragon thing.

  He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her. She felt his hands reaching for her, for the back of her sweater. He grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head. She had a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath, which she pulled off herself, even though she had to wiggle in her embrace to do it. She wanted her skin to be touching his, now. Her skin was on fire, as brilliantly gold as the bedspread she was on.

  He seemed to understand what she wanted, grabbing her light thermal underwear next and pulling it after her shirt, then getting his hands to the clasp of her bra. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I’ve wanted to see you like this since you woke up.”

  “What is that, two hours?”

  He laughed, a little embarrassed. “Maybe three. But—Rachel. I knew. I knew this would feel—” Her bra came undone, and he gasped. “Rachel,” he said, and he sounded like the happiest man in the world.

  She laughed too, and pulled him close to her for another kiss, so she could feel her breasts against his muscles. It felt so, so good. Even better when he took his warm hands and put them on her bare back. His mouth was warm and wet against hers, and the way he moved his tongue gave her little shivers up and down her back.

  Brad tried to move away from her, but she pulled him back. She didn’t want to lose his touch, no matter what he had in mind. It felt too good just the way it was.

  “Mmm,” he said, pulling back a little from the kiss in response. “If that’s what you want—”

  He rolled down on the bed next to her, pulling her with him. It took her mind a second to orient itself, but she realized quickly what had happened: he’d pulled her fully on top of him, her jeans against his, her bare breasts pushing down into his chest.

  “Oh,” she said, the sound escaping her before she’d even realized.

  He laughed. “That’s more like it,” he said, and pressed a warm, wet kiss into her bare shoulder. He continued kissing her, guiding her body up so he could kiss a line down her chest and to her left breast. He took her nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to tease it even harder. She rode her hips against his, feeling his hardness. Her panties were pretty much soaked through. Oh, she wanted him. She was as turned on as a high school kid.

  It sure felt like he was, too.

  He pushed his hips up against her, as if to confirm her thoughts. He reached across her chest with a thumb and started teasing her right nipple, setting off another chain reaction of pleasure. She gasped. Her right hand was still supporting her weight, but her left hand had become tangled in the bedspread, clutching at the fabric as she tried to hold herself together. He hadn’t even touched her below the waist and she already felt like she was ready to come apart.

  “Good?” he whispered.

  She could only nod. She wanted him, wanted so much. It felt so good to be near him, to touch him. Maybe he was right about this whole mate thing. Maybe—

  With a final lick, he let go of both breasts, and pushed her further up his body, so her breasts were almost even with his chin. He nuzzled and kissed at them both. Rachel could only moan. Her whole body was beginning to shake; she couldn’t begin to control the way her body was reacting. He felt so good. Everything felt so good, so warm, so perfect.

  His hands traveled down her sides as he kissed at her breasts, and she had to put both hands down to support her weight. Before she realized what he was going to do, Brad had unbuttoned her jeans, and was pulling the fly open. There’s no way we can get them off without me moving, she thought. What’s he going to do?

  He took his face from her breasts and tilted his chin up. “Roll over,” he said. It wasn’t a command, but as far as her libido was concerned it might as well have been. She was helpless to do anything but what he asked.

  She rolled on her back, and she just caught his brilliant smile before he started pulling her jeans over her hips, taking her thermals and panties with him. At least they can dry out a little, she thought, before he put his hands back on her breasts and she couldn’t think at all any more.

  He kissed each breast just once, then started kissing a line down her body, starting at her breastbone and going lower and lower. He lingered for a second at her navel, then started again. She was moaning hard by then, wetter than she’d been in years, helpless to do anything but reach out for his chest and shoulders as he worked his way down her body and open her legs as he kissed her pelvis and then went still lower. He licked at the hair on her pelvis, then started working his mouth between her legs.

  She spread her legs so wide she could feel them stretch. She wanted him, wanted his mouth, more than she could stand. Every inch of her body blazed with heat.

>   His mouth was wet and warm and she shivered again as he worked his way into her folds. The heat was unbearable now, and she writhed against the thick silk. Everything was golden around her; the room, the heat. Brad was making her ache, and she twisted her body against the sheets. Every inch of her was alive with sensation.

  She moaned again. Brad put a firm, warm hand on her thigh, stroking the skin there. His touch was gentle and light, and made her shake even harder.

  Brad licked at her again, and then his tongue slid further and deeper into her—

  Oh.

  She was too overwhelmed to scream. Her whole universe had moved down to one tiny point, to Brad and his mouth and tongue inside her, wet, hot, unbearably good. He was moving slowly, deliberately, and she felt like she was about to come apart. He reached deliberately between her legs, and his light, electric touch found her clit.

  Then she screamed, her voice sounding harsh, her throat tightening as her whole body was taken over by pleasure, her orgasm a hot wave that took over every sense.

  It took a long, long time for the shaking to subside, for the rest of the room to slowly pull back into focus. She looked up at the ceiling while she caught her breath.

  “I think I could watch you like that forever,” Brad said with relish. “Or sketch you.” He still sounded out of breath.

  Of course, he must still be hard. “You can—”

  “I think I might,” he said, and she could hear hunger in his voice. “Rachel, I have to say—”

  But he was interrupted by a high-pitched noise, like a siren. “Is that?”

  “Alarm.” He was already standing up, tugging his pants on. “You’d better—”

  She was already moving too, grabbing her clothes by the fistful and trying to figure out what she could get on fast. There was never time to lose in a fire, but she didn’t want to freeze to death, either. Her panties and jeans could be stepped into, but everything up top was going to take more effort.