Marked by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 8) - Paranormal Fairytale Romance

by Alisa Woods

  She pulled in a sudden breath, as if she hadn’t breathed in forever, and a pulse of power emanated from her, pushing his hand away and stirring up dust from the floor of the cave, blowing it out into the canyon below. Leksander squinted against the blast of dirt, but when he looked again…

  Her wings were pure white.

  The agony was gone from her face, replaced by a radiant smile. She let out a long sigh, then she quickly dropped to his side. “My love,” she said, caressing his face and scanning his body. “You are injured.” Her smile fled, and she quickly straddled him, her torn and dirtied dress spilling over him as she grabbed his cheeks in both hands and kissed him.

  No… not a kiss of passion or love. A life kiss.

  She open-mouth breathed into him, and the energy flooding him immediately quashed the pain still wringing through his body from his broken arm. She lifted his head slightly off the ground, tilting it back and breathing even more into him. His entire body—bruised and broken and bloodied—renewed under her life-giving kiss. Her energy vibrated and hummed inside him, resonating with the angel blessing he still carried. By the time she finished, every part of him was energized and renewed, as if he’d never been hurt. Or wyvern. Or demon-infected.

  She broke the kiss and leaned back.

  His lips followed after. He reached for her with both hands—now fully healed—and pulled her down so he could kiss her for real. It was tender yet urgent, saying all the things he couldn’t put into words. She had come for him. She had believed in him. She’d risked everything—too much!—for him.

  And most of all, she was in his arms, and he was a man once again.

  Very much a man, as his achingly hard cock demanded to be made known.

  He broke the kiss but held her close, whispering against her lips. “How is this even possible?”

  She pulled back to gaze into his eyes. “As you said. If I could love you, then all things are possible.”

  He wanted to laugh and cry all at once. Instead, he pulled her in for another kiss, letting his hand slide down her gorgeous body, nearly bare except for this tenuous angel gown she wore, held on mostly by golden threads and wishful thinking. He gripped her hip and nudged her to slide down his body, closer to his cock, which was dying for her touch.

  But she resisted, pulling back from his kiss.

  He groaned, deep in his chest. “I’ve never wanted you more than right at this moment. Don’t tease me, angeling.”

  Her eyes flashed, and the triumphant smile on her face made him growl his frustration even more. That wild need for her—a pale echo of his wyvern, all lust but no violence—surged through him. He grabbed her by the hips so he could roll her onto her back and take her right there on the dirt floor, but she eluded his grip. Instead, she pulled him up to sitting as she magically lifted herself to her feet.

  He scrambled to his feet as well and went to slip his arms around her again, but she danced back. He didn’t know what game this was, but he would chase her and pin her against the wall if that’s what it took to bury himself in her. It wasn’t the wyvern talking—although the edginess of his need was still there—but his severe and urgent desire to connect with her. Bond with her.

  Mate with her.

  “Erelah,” he said, his voice filled with warning that this chase would be very short.

  Her smile dropped into earnestness even as she continued to back away from him, toward the mouth of the cave. “Seal the cave, Leksander.”

  That pulled him out of the heavy-lidded lust consuming him. “What?”

  “Seal us in,” she said, taking an arms-folded stance by the rocky edge. “And then seal me with your dragonfire.”

  Those words… they sent another surge of lust straight to his cock. He growled, but even as he stalked to the front of the cave where she stood, his mind whirled. He frowned at the completed runes. He could quickly conjure the wards, and they would be protected from any immortal who might try to stop them. But that also meant she would be trapped in the cave with him.

  He grimaced as he slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close. “I can’t guarantee I won’t go wyvern again. If I do…”

  “If you do, I will set you free once more.”

  He frowned and glanced back at her blade, still inky and tarnished. He turned back to her. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She put a hand to his cheek and gazed into his eyes. “Make me yours, dragon prince.”

  Her command had magic in it, sending a shivering ripple of need surging through him. Need to possess her. Need to claim her. Need to put his mark on her and his child in her. This raging possessiveness came out as a rumbling growl deep in his chest. He held her tighter around her waist, her barely-clad body pressing deliciously up against his as he used his other hand to wave the final wards into being. The dress she was wearing barely contained her ample breasts, and he already knew she was bare underneath from when she straddled him. And the back was bare as well. All the things he needed to take her and seal her.

  The instant he finished the wards, he turned to her and walked her back toward the wall of the cave. Her wings brushed the wall first, and he didn’t want to crush them or press any bit of her delicious skin against the rocky surface, so he stopped her with a tug on her waist just short of the wall. Then he shoved aside the ragged fabric that still hung between them, lifted one of her legs over his hip, and pressed his cock, throbbing with need, against her sex. He ground himself there, and her sharp intake of breath, plus the way he easily slid against her wet heat told him she was just as ready as he was.

  “Put your hands back,” he commanded.

  She did so, reaching under her wings to grasp the jutting rock wall behind her. He groaned as that naturally made her arch into him. Her sex opened wider, and her breasts lifted and strained against the white fabric of her dress. He slid his cock along her sex, grinding her sensitive nub, reveling in the way her lips parted, and her eyes grew hooded. Her leg—the one hooked over his hip—clamped harder against him, urging him on. He decided the dress had to go after all, at least partially. His one hand was busy holding her tight at the small of her back, but the other was free to caress her body and shove aside the fabric containing her breasts. With the fabric so tight to the sides and the golden chain underneath, her breasts nearly stood at attention. Her nipples perked, begging for his hands and his mouth. He teased them with his fingertips and licked his lips, vowing to give that lovely part of her body his full attention later, once their mating—this act he had dreamed of and fantasized about endlessly over the decades—was finally consummated.

  “Oh, God, Erelah,” he breathed. “I’m going to fuck you. So hard.”

  Her body just shuddered in response.

  He dragged his hand away from tormenting her nipples and caressed his way down to between her legs. He teased her nub, and she writhed against him. Then he took his cock in his hand and used that to torment her a little more. But as much as he loved the squirming and the lip biting, and he wished he could just tease her through a few orgasms before they got serious, he literally couldn’t wait any longer.

  He pulled back and thrust hard into her, all in one stroke.

  She cried out, and one hand left the rock wall to grasp onto his shoulder. He had one hand still on the small of her back, but he likewise grabbed the back of her knee to hold on as he thrust again. And again. And harder. The angle was brutal, and she was so damn tight to begin with, he had to put real power into his thrust, shoving harder and faster the longer it went. The wildness of it was racing him to his peak. Her whimpers and cries and the digging into his shoulder with her fingers said she was right there with him.

  “Fuck! Erelah,” he ground out as he impaled her again and again. His cock felt like it had never been so swollen and so hard. She had never felt so tight, even that first time. He growled and thrust harder, lifting her off her feet with each pounding, her wings scraping the walls, their feathery sounds making his balls tight and aching. />
  “Yes!” she cried out. “Yes, my love, take me!”

  And he was fucking done. Those words drove him right over the edge, and he exploded inside her, still pumping and surging and thrusting. She came undone, singing out in angelsong, her power pulsing and ricocheting off the nearby wards at the cave’s mouth. Her body squeezed down on his cock in waves, milking every last ounce of orgasm from him, like it was greedy for it. Her mouth was open, her head tipped back and nearly touching the wall with each of his thrusts, which were now slowing, as they eased past their peaks. But the flush across her tightly puckered nipples… the full blossom of her sex… the way her chest heaved, still breathless…

  Now was the time.

  He hated the idea of leaving her body. He loathed the idea of causing her pain.

  But now was the time to seal her with his mark.

  He pulled out, turned her around, held her from behind for a moment, caressing her breasts and enjoying the brush of her wings against his chest. Then he pulled her down to the rocky floor of the cave with him, kneeling first, then laying her face down, one hand on the back of her neck, pressing her cheek into the dirt, the other holding her hip down. His knee pushed down on the small of her back. He couldn’t hold her if she didn’t want to be held—she had the power to blast him across the cave—but he needed her in the correct position to mark her.

  She didn’t resist, just lay her hands flat on the ground by her head, wings spread wide, even her legs spread slightly, waiting for him.

  He started above her shoulder blades, right where her wings met her back. He reached down deep for his magic, conjuring the special mating fire to well forth from within him. Then he pressed his lips to her flesh, kissing it first, then open-mouthed breathing searing dragonfire upon her flesh.

  She didn’t even flinch.

  Didn’t cry out.

  As he carved his mark, infusing her body with his dragon magic, she didn’t make a sound or any motion at all. Except for the slow digging of her fingers into the dirt by her head—and the smoldering of the feathers closest to her back—you wouldn’t know she was enduring the pain of being singed with eternal fire.

  He moved as quickly as he could, up and down her back, infusing her with the magic she would need to carry their child. And when it was done, he traced the same route again, up and down, with the healing touch of his wet kisses and all the fae magic he could muster.

  His tears fell in the wake of his lips…

  One more healing touch before he was through.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Leksander asked.

  “Yes.” But Erelah wasn’t. The pain was gone—it had never been beyond her tolerance—but the fire burned on inside her.

  “I’m not sure how long it takes.” He nuzzled his face into her hair, pushing it aside to gently nibble on her neck. She sat cuddled in his lap, while he was cross-legged on the floor of the cave. His hand traced a cool line along her back, where he had painted his magic on her skin and left the mark of a dragon. She’d seen it on the other princesses of the House of Smoke, so she knew its form without the help of a mirror. Besides… she could feel it.

  “How long what takes?” she asked, although she knew. The transformation. The proofing of her body so it may bear him a child. Only for her, this wasn’t a transformation… it was a war.

  One her angel nature had to lose.

  She could feel it raging, inch by inch through her bloodstream and her limbs and down to her toes. Wave after wave swept through her, as it had from the moment Leksander had brandished his fire upon her. His dragon magic battling her angel power. Mortal enemies from ancient times, waging a battle for eternity and mankind inside her very cells. Each time one was gained or lost, a pulse went through her—dragon then angel; angel then dragon—and each wave prickled her skin like invisible goosebumps.

  Leksander’s hand was cool on her breast. He teased her nipple, but it was already straining with peak sensitivity and hardness due to the battle raging inside her. She moved slightly away from his touch, and his hand froze. He stopped his gentle kisses on her neck and pulled back to look at her.

  But he didn’t speak… just examined her face, like he was searching for something.

  She didn’t know what, but another wave made her shudder, this one strong enough that he noticed. His hand stopped tracing the serpentine dragon that was now magically tattooed on her back, and he leaned to peer behind her, either at the tattoo or her wings where they attached to her back.

  Another wave passed, stronger this time. An exhale was forced from her lips.

  Leksander touched the feathers close to her back—the ones still singed from their mating—and she felt him trying to heal them with his fae magic. But that only shook the battle raging inside her, so she pulled away from that, too.

  “Erelah, please.” He reached for her face. His hand was so cool, even more so than normal. But she knew it was only because her skin, and the magic battle beneath it, was a raging inferno. He cupped her cheek, the furrow dark on his face. “Let me heal you.”

  “I am fine.”

  “No. You’re not.” His face twisted with some emotion he was holding back.

  She felt it as a strike against her heart. For she should honor the truth, always, but especially with him. “No, I am not,” she whispered. “The battle rages inside me. But it will be over soon.” She didn’t actually know this. She wasn’t sure at all what the outcome would be. Only that it was a fate she had no control over, no option but to wait and see what the future held.

  Death. That was still possible.

  An angeling who would fail to take his seal. Very possible.

  Or a sealed dragon’s mate, no longer an angel. Likely.

  That was one reason she kept her wings out, even now. If they were to disappear, she wanted to keep them unto the end.

  “I am such a fool,” Leksander said, stroking her cheek with his cool fingertips.

  “You are not.”

  “I am,” he insisted. His frown grew deeper. “I should have told you long ago. I should have taken you in my arms and kissed the hell out of you.”

  “You would have been rebuffed.” She smiled a little, even though it hurt her heart to think of it.

  “Rebuffed?” He gave her a look of offense, but she was sure he was playing. “How could you have possibly resisted my smoldering dragon hotness?”

  Her smile grew, and she twisted in his lap to face him more fully. She let her palm, so hot with the battle inside, lay flat against the hard muscles of his chest. “Your soul shines with righteous beauty, but I would have fled, Leksander. You know this.”

  He held her hand to his chest, trapping it there. “I suppose I do. But I would have had years to convince you. Decades, Erelah. All that time, we could have been…” His words faded into torment on his face.

  “Having sex?” Her smile hurt, the way something full of joy sometimes does.

  “Yes.” His eyes went wide with pretend horror at the tragic loss of their years of lovemaking. “Or at least making out a little. Come on, admit it. You secretly wanted me all that time.”

  “It’s true.” She grinned. And it was true. She had wanted to be with him… she had just suppressed that into a long-burning friendship rather than face the risk of losing him altogether.

  Another pulse of magic through her—the clash of forces—made her wince.

  Leksander sucked in a breath. “Does it hurt?” His voice was so pained, Erelah almost thought it must be he who was experiencing the battle.

  “Not really.” She picked up his hand and cupped it to her breast. “Distract me.”

  A low, guttural moan sounded in his chest, but his touch on her breast was barely a whisper. “We should wait,” he breathed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I don’t want to heat you up anymore, angel girl.” His breath against her ear was now cool, which only meant her skin must be even hotter. The friction between the two poles of magic within her was blazing.

 
She ran her hand along his cheek and then down his neck, letting her fingertips trace the finely sculpted muscles of his chest. “Do you know where I’m really hot?” she whispered.

  “Oh, God,” he panted. “Erelah, no—” She cut him off by dropping her hand between his legs. His cock was coming to life again, stiffening against her leg where she sat in his lap. He sucked in air between his teeth. She grasped hold of him and stroked just once. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed.

  She stroked him harder. “My heat rages hottest between my legs.”

  He made a soft sound—like both pain and pleasure—and it made her smile. Another shudder ran through her, another pulse of magic battle, but if she were to die right now, her biggest regret would be not hearing more of the sounds of her delivering pleasure to the man she loved. Leksander was right on that count. They had missed out on decades of pleasure.

  She stroked him again then scooted out of his lap.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, his hands automatically going to her hips as if to bring her back, but she was already on her knees in the dirt and dipping to bend over, so she could reach his cock with her mouth. “Oh, fuck. Erelah… no…” But his protests were weak to begin with and faded as she took him into her mouth. A strangled gasp emanated from him as she slid her tongue along the silky underside of the tip and then sucked hard as she took him further inside. “Gah. Sweet mother of…aaahhgh…” His hips bucked, but only a little. She could tell he was fighting his response, which made her want to pursue his pleasure even harder. She gripped the base of his cock like she knew he liked, then she bobbed her head, licking and sucking harder at the top. His strangled curse assured her she was delivering quite a dose of pleasure. He kept saying her name like he was begging her to stop, but at the same time, he gathered her long blonde hair back from her face so he could see exactly what she was doing, even if her face was mostly buried in his lap. He made that soft, strangled noise again, and his hand tightened in her hair. His hips bucked again, and she felt his cock twitch in her mouth.