Dragon Storm

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Dragon Storm Page 14

by Katie MacAlister

“And?” His mouth trailed fired as he kissed a path first across my collarbone, and then down to my breasts, his hands nudging my legs apart. I could feel his erection against my belly, and stood on my tiptoes when his fingers found my sensitive parts.

  “More,” I said on a gasp, my inner muscles trying to grab desperately at him.

  “More what?”

  I released his hair and reached between us, stroking the hard length of him. “More of you. Inside me. Pretty damned quickly, too, because I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t finish what you started.”

  He smiled again, a wicked smile full of intent. “I find I like you in this bossy mode. However, I’m going to like this more.”

  “Like what?” I started to say, but before I could finish the last word, he spun me around, positioning me so that I was directly in front of the rope contraption. With one hand on my back, he pressed me forward until I was bent down, my breasts on the bed, while my backside was right there exposed to anyone who cared to look.

  “Constantine!” I shrieked into the sheet, and tried to twist around. He hitched the rope system up a few inches so that my hips and butt were propped upward, while my hands remained on the bed. “I do not like where this is headed! My butt is off limits. Safe word! SAFE WORD!”

  He laughed, the bastard, and nudged my knees open wide. “Do not fear, my little honey bee. I will not make you do anything that does not give you the most immense pleasure. Like this, for instance.”

  “Like whaaaaaaieeeeeeeee!” Without so much as warning me, he put his hands on my hips, pulled me back slightly, and thrust into me in a manner that not only made me scream with pleasure, but caused every single muscle I possessed in that region to suddenly come to life. “Grace of the goddess, Constantine! You’re so—and it feels—I think I’m going to—you’re going to move?”

  Not being a monster (or, as he’d be the first one to mention, an inconsiderate lover), he hadn’t penetrated very far into me, just enough to delight the aforementioned muscles, and to warn me that he meant business.

  “Movement is integral to this, yes.” He sounded as breathless as I felt, his hands gripping my hips hard. I grabbed at the sheet beneath me, my body moving gently as he worked up a rhythm that allowed him to slide in deeper, opening me up in a way that almost made my eyes cross with pleasure. “What do you think? Do you enjoy this? Unlike restraints, you are free to move, but the support elevates you in a way that is supposed to enhance the experience.”

  “Oh, it enhances, it enhances,” I said, aware that I was babbling, but unable to keep from doing so. I wanted desperately to hold on to him, but at the same time, I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing. He was winding me closer, ever closer to the moment when I felt I’d explode into a million pieces, and even though the position was somewhat awkward, and I had thoughts that my butt did not offer a particularly scenic view of me, I let that all go to simply enjoy.

  And when my muscles tightened around him as I slipped over the edge of rapture, I reveled in the moan of sheer ecstasy that he gave before collapsing down onto my back.

  Unfortunately, the belt or swing or whatever the rope system was called was not built for two. It gave way underneath me, sending both Constantine and me tumbling onto the bed.

  Which also gave way, crashing to the floor with a noise that was so loud, it made my ears ring.

  Constantine’s jaw clipped the back of my head, making us both swear.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, scrambling off of me, and flipping me over to examine me. “Did I crush you? Tell me I didn’t crush you. I heard the air whooshing out of your lungs. Can you speak? Can you breathe? Christos, let me call for a healer.”

  He was up and at the door, standing naked in it as he called down the hallway for a healer when I caught my breath back and managed to speak. “I’m fine. Not hurt, although yes, a little winded.” I looked up at the ceiling, shrieked, and rolled to the side just as a chunk of plaster bearing the swing hook came tumbling down onto the bed. I looked from the plaster on the bed over to Constantine, still naked at the door, and burst into laughter.

  “What are you laughing at?” he demanded, stomping over to me, his hands on his naked hips. “You find the situation funny? You find me funny?”

  Outrage gathered in his eyes just as dragon fire burst into a puddle at my feet. I tapped it out with a bare foot, still giggling. Outside the room, voices called, growing louder.

  “I find you sexy as hell and an incredible lover,” I said, pulling a blanket up from the floor, wrapping it around me. “As a matter of fact, I was just thinking that although I’ve had boyfriends who’ve promised to move the heaven and the earth, you’re the only one who ever managed to do so.”

  His smile, as the worried occupants of the brothel burst into our room, was one almost entirely filled with male pride.

  Eleven

  “Why do you have to leave? The bed is fixed. The debris from the ceiling is cleared. I thought to pleasure you again, and you wish to leave? This is unacceptable. I have many variations of the support system to show you, one of which includes grapes.” Constantine waggled his eyebrows meaningfully at Bee. “I’ll let you guess who will be the recipient of them.”

  “Oddly enough, I want to know, but alas, duty calls.” Bee rolled off his chest and began collecting her clothing.

  Constantine enjoyed the view of her backside and thought of mentioning that fact, but he had found that women of this time did not appreciate knowing that their bodies were viewed with approval. “I am wise in the way of Oprah, and thus won’t comment on how charming I find your ass, but I wish for you to know that you need not have negative body issues on my behalf.”

  “You are wise in the way of…” Bee, in the act of slipping on her jeans, spun around to stare at him, her mouth twitching in a manner that could either mean intense anger or amusement. He wondered which it was, and decided that it must be the latter.

  “Yes. Ysolde insisted that I have feminist training. She said too many dragons thought as they used to centuries before and that she wasn’t going to have me running around perpetuating outdated mores and values.” He rubbed his chin and wondered what it would take to get Bee naked and in his bed again. “It is for that reason I am so in touch with what women like and need.”

  “Uh huh.” Bee finished dressing before giving him an unreadable look. “I’m surprised you let this Ysolde woman talk you into becoming a feminist. You don’t strike me as the sort of man who gives up his dearly held beliefs of masculine superiority.”

  He donned a noble expression, absently scratching an itch on his groin. “Since Ysolde was once my beloved mate, I am forced by honor to acquiesce to any demands she makes, even if it means reading boring literature and attending with her a few meetings of like-minded women.” His mouth twisted for a few seconds, then he gave her a rueful smile. “Although I do admit that I enjoyed the Our Bodies, Ourselves seminar. That was quite eye-opening, and not just because some of the ladies had me help them with their ladyplant mirrors.”

  Bee seemed to have a spasm of some sort. “A what now? Ladyplant?”

  “Yes, you know.” He gestured toward Bee’s ladyplant. “That part of you that is likened to a garden. I do not know what modern terminology is—the ladies at the Our Bodies, Ourselves seminar refused to tell me. They claimed ladyplant was their new favorite phrase. One of them said she was going to embroider it on a garment.”

  Bee blinked at him a couple of times. “And this makes you think you’re a feminist?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said that I am in touch with what women like and need, and you liked me touching you in your ladyplant area. You liked the device despite declaring you wouldn’t. We spent an enjoyable hour together, and I thought we might do so again.”

  “Sadly for my peace of mind, I suspect we will spend many more hours together using that device—” Bee eyed it with an expression that mingled satisfaction with disbelief. “—but that’s really neither her
e nor there. I have to get in touch with Aisling to hear what her demon found out about your daddy.”

  Pain twisted in Constantine’s gut. He made an abbreviated gesture of denial and flung back the sheets to rise. “Do not call him that. The day he tortured and killed my mother in an attempt to bring me to heel he lost the right to be named such.”

  Bee was in his arms before he had his balance, and the two of them tumbled backward onto the bed. Bee wrapped her arms around him, kissing his shoulder and nuzzling his neck in a way that both inflamed him and brought him a strange sense of comfort. “He killed your mom?”

  “Yes. That is one reason why I did not wish to engage him in battle—he strikes quickly and hard, and always at the most dearly held possession.”

  “What—you don’t have to answer this if it’s too painful—what happened that he would do that to your mother?”

  Her breath was warm and sweet on his neck, and as he shifted her slightly to the side so that she was no longer crushing his penis, he toyed with the thought of commencing a seduction to keep her in his bed. The memory of that time long in the past drove out all thoughts of pleasure, however. “I was named by the wyvern of the black dragons as his heir—at least I was until Baltic, another of the First Dragon’s sons, usurped my position, and claimed the sept for his own. By that time, Kashi was already befriending those beings who would lead him into becoming a demon lord, and he wished for me to follow him. I refused. He struck back in a way that he knew would devastate me: by killing my entire family.”

  “I’m sorry, Constantine, I’m so sorry.” She kissed his jaw, his cheek, and finally his mouth. “I know what it’s like to lose a parent. I lost both of mine in a senseless act of violence when they went to help the underprivileged in Africa, but at least I had my sister and brother to share my grief. I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for you to struggle through the loss of your family on your own.”

  Constantine allowed himself a moment of remembered grief, then set it aside as he had so many times. “I regret that you, too, have had the pain of losing a parent, and I would be happy to comfort you, but you must remove your clothing in order that I do so. Or allow me to remove it. Have you more garments with you?” He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers. “Dragons tend to show our origins by means of claws when we are sexually excited. I would not purposely shred your clothing while removing it, but you tempt me more than any other woman, and I can’t guarantee that your garments might not be damaged.”

  “Claws, huh?” She pushed herself off him and eyed his hand. “You didn’t go claw-boy earlier. I’d have noticed that.”

  “I retained superior control of myself because I knew you were hesitant over allowing me to demonstrate a toy.”

  “Is that so?” She got to her feet, rebuttoning the buttons on her shirt that he had just slid open, and made a face at herself in a mirror. “I look like I was dragged through a hedge backward.”

  “Or you just had an extremely satisfying sexual engagement with a wyvern,” he answered, blowing a little ring of fire at her, and throwing as much come-hither into his eyes as was possible.

  She resisted it, the little minx. Instead she just laughed and slid the strap of her bag across her torso. “That was pretty slick, and I am truly tempted, but if this curse is ever to be lifted, then I have to put duty before your sexy self. I assume I’ll be able to find a taxi outside?”

  “No.”

  “Really? Drat.” She frowned. “I’ll have to go out a few streets to try to catch one, then.”

  “No, you will not.” He rose and reached for his clothing. “I will take you to the green mate’s house. We will deal with Bael together.”

  “Are you sure?” She watched him dress, her brows still together. “I was wrong to flip you shit for not wanting to help, and I would feel horrible if you let me guilt you into doing something that you’d rather not. You certainly have a solid reason for not wishing to get involved with your fa—with Bael.”

  “We have already discussed the matter, and I will not change my mind. Bael being loose may not be my responsibility, but I feel obligated to do what I can to end what will only result in a reign of terror for everyone.” He pulled on his shoes and, after a moment’s thought, picked up a small black box and spoke into it. “Bee and I are going to the green wyvern’s house to discuss Bael. Do you wish to stay?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Bee asked, reaching for the lock on the door.

  “Gary.”

  She gave him an oddly unreadable look. “You bought him a walkie-talkie?”

  “No. That would be ridiculous. It’s all he can do to manipulate the remote that controls his truck.”

  She just looked at him.

  He gave a little cough. “I bought a communications earpiece set from a shop catering to surveillance officials. It seems to work quite well for us.”

  “Uh huh. And this from the man who claims he wants to leave poor Gary on the roadside because he’s so much trouble.”

  Constantine thinned his lips at her at the same time that tinny static came out of the small box, followed by loud music, over which Gary could be heard to say, “Hey, chicky, you ever made it with a disembodied head? Oh, hello, Constantine. Are you and Bee finished? So soon? You must have been very forceful. Did she like the silk lift? Did you?”

  Bee whapped Constantine on the arm. “You told him about the silk rope thing?”

  “He helped me pick it out. He thought you’d like it. And you did.”

  “Which is no one’s business!” Bee protested.

  “I would answer you, but Bee would pinch me again, and I do not wish to distress her,” Constantine said into the black box. “However, the answer to the most important questions is yes.”

  “I knew it!” Gary crowed before adding in a lower tone, “Sorry, monsieur, I must refuse your generous offer. My friends need my help in saving the world.”

  Bee shook her head and saying, “Somehow, I never thought this day would end up with me hunting a demon lord with an ex-dragon and a head in a hamster ball. Come on, Sir Galahad. If you insist on helping me—and I admit, I’m very grateful for your assistance—then let’s get going. It’s already midnight, and I told Aisling I’d be in contact by now. Can I use your phone to tell her we’re on our way?”

  Constantine handed over his phone and busied himself with tidying up the silk rope while she talked to the green mate. He wondered idly if she’d be interested in an electronic device that was said to heighten women’s pleasure, but decided that so long as she had him to see to her sexual needs, she wouldn’t have need of it.

  “All right,” Bee said a few minutes later, when he was tucking away a scalp massager for which he found had many other uses, “Aisling says they have a hit on Bael. Well, not hit on him per se, but that he was spotted recently by some green dragons in Italy. Aisling asked my sister and Kostya to talk with us about it, so we need to head over to Aisling’s house now.”

  A thump at the door indicated Gary’s arrival. Constantine let him in, saying to Bee as he did so, “Why is she calling a sarkany? The curse will keep her from being able to communicate with everyone but you.”

  “A what?”

  “A sarkany is a concave of wyverns.”

  “It’s like you guys have a different word for everything.” Bee gave him an expectant grin.

  He just looked at her.

  “Not a Steve Martin fan?” She gave a mock sigh. “And to think I’d become involved with a man who doesn’t appreciate a good stand-up comedy routine. To answer your question, I have no idea why Aisling’s asked us to her place, other than I assume the Venediger won’t allow us—well, really, any dragons, given that she’s pissed at all of you—back in the club after the curse blew up so horribly and damaged the club. So there really is nowhere else safe to go.”

  “Where in Italy did she say Bael was last seen?”

  “She didn’t say exactly where, just that he’d been seen.” Bee started o
ut the door.

  Constantine paused long enough to snatch up the helmet he’d purchased for her, and tucked Gary in his hamster ball under his arm. “I don’t understand why we need to waste time talking with my godson and the green mate about Bael. She should provide you with the information on his location so that we can go deal with him.”

  “Well, we’re only after an artifact of his, after all. It’s not like you’re going to try to take him down personally,” Bee said over her shoulder before trotting down the stairs to the street door.

  Constantine said nothing, but paused at the door and gave the street outside the brothel a long scrutiny. He pinpointed two women engaged in kissing who he thought had the hint of demon about them. He kept an eye on them as he retrieved his motorcycle and mounted it, watching in the rearview mirror as one of the women languidly parted and moved off into the darkness.

  He was recalled by the slight blow on the back of his shoulder. “Hmm?” he asked Bee.

  “I said that you’d better keep your eyes on the road or else we’ll end up in the hospital. You almost hit two cars at that intersection back there.”

  “I am a consummate driver. If I almost hit someone, it was because I wanted to do so, and not because I was watching for two women,” he yelled.

  “The hell?” Bee asked, and pinched his belly. “Why are you watching for women?”

  “Your jealousy pleases me, although it is not necessary. I will not betray you to another woman, or even a pair of women, no matter how comely they are.”

  She pinched him even harder and spent the next eleven minutes lecturing him about how she wasn’t a jealous woman, had never been jealous, and didn’t have any plans to start at that moment, and if he thought she cared one hoot if he stared at women the length and breadth of Paris, he could just think again, and other such protestations that Constantine knew meant she cared very much about what he thought.

  He experienced a twinge of guilt when he remembered the beauteous Ysolde, and how he had pledged her his heart in the best manner of the chivalric stories of his youth, but he told himself he had no time to analyze the differences in his emotions toward Bee (which were growing more and more complicated with each passing hour) and those of Ysolde (chaste, distant adoration). He promised himself a good think about Bee and his attraction to her at a later date, and proceeded to drive to the sixteenth arrondissement where the green wyvern had a home.

 

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