Days go by with me simply staying in Brandon’s condo, apparently. We don’t speak about Walter. We don’t speak about much of anything as he nurses me back to health.
“Thank you,” I blurt out as he changes the bandage on my hand. It went from a heavy wrapping and dress to a simple plastic pad that stuck to my skin.
“You’re welcome,” he smiles kindly to me.
“I’m sorry too,” I apologize. “I freaked out when you told me about Kelly and her friends and you seeing that. I’m not used to people. I’m especially not used to people knowing me, seeing me for who I am and accepting that.”
“I get it. I’m not really good with people either. You know the whole wolf thing tends to be a turnoff to making friends.”
“How many people have you told?”
“Just you. Like I said, I’ve seen you around for a long time. I can gauge people really well. I’m pretty certain that you’re a person who knows how to keep a secret or two,” he winks.
“That I can do,” I smile back at him for once.
“You’re free to go but I think you should stay here and lay low for a while. I did a decent amount of damage to Walter and his crew. They’re going to be looking for us,” he tells me. “And you can use a space where your hand can heal peacefully.”
“I don’t know,” I shy away from his glare. His hand brings my face, my gaze back to his. “Brandon, I’m not a hero.”
“I’m not asking you to be,” he sweetly strokes a few curls out of my face, “I’m just asking you, for once in your life, let someone else take care of you.”
It’s in that moment that I see it. It isn’t that he’s been hunting me. He’s been looking out for me. All this time, we’ve both been alone in this city and now we can have each other.
My arms wrap around his neck pulling him in close to me. We hug right there on his bed for what seems to be forever and when he pulls away there’s a look in his eyes. Primitive… wanting. He kisses me.
It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. His lips are so tender as they move over mine. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, delicately taking his time to taste me, savoring the moment. My nipples harden and my body aches for him.
“I’ve never,” I can’t bring myself to tell him I’m still a virgin.
“It’s okay. I’ll go slow. Tell me when you want to stop,” he says simply before kissing me again. I don’t know if I ever want to. He moves his mouth from my lips down my neck to my breasts. Flicking over my nipples with his tongue, I lean back to rest on my elbows. He gently moves me to lay flat on my back.
I watch Brandon get up, taking off his shirt, he pulls me to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs. Just when I think he’s going to just plunge himself inside of me, he tastes me. Lapping at my center, bringing me to the best orgasm that sends shivers down my spine. I can’t believe I’m going to give my virginity to a werewolf. Not just any wolf, one who’s loved me since before I loved myself.
Brandon’s tongue is magical as it moves over me, in and out of my walls. Soon he accompanies it with a finger at first. I clench around him. It hurts a little but the more he pumps it in an out of me, the better it feels.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, poking his head up from between my thighs.
“No,” I tell him in panting breaths. So he doesn’t. He continues to lick, and stick his fingers inside of me, bringing me to another orgasm. By the time I cum again, he pulls out of me and lays down on top of me. I can feel his girth pressing at my entrance.
“I can stop now,” he tells me with worry in his eyes.
“Don’t,” I urge him, pulling him closer into me.
The thickness of his head pushing inside of me is an indescribable feeling. I gasp from the pressure. The pain. The pleasure. It all washes over me at once as Brandon begins to thrust in and out of me slowly. His movements are slow, but my pussy coats him with every pump as he brings me closer and closer to erogenous bliss.
I watch his body flex, restraining himself, but I’m soaking wet down there. It all feels so good. I dig my nails into his back. That causes him a bit of pain, and releases a short snarl, but he snaps out of it with a grin.
“Sorry, I was about to lose control,” he laughs.
“I’m interested in seeing that,” I tell him running my fingers through his hair.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that,” he continues moving in and out of me.
“You don’t know me,” I tell him mockingly.
“Okay, but remember you asked for it,” he winks.
I’m not sure if Brandon completely lets himself go but the speed and vigor of which he makes love to me increases tenfold. Sweat drips down our bodies and we begin to move together. He guides me as I ride him. I hold on tight as he slides in and out of me. We move from the bed, to his dresser, inside of his closet, the wall and even the balcony.
There’s something about making love twenty something stories in the air. The possibility of someone seeing us is incredible. I finally let myself go with Brandon. I don’t have to hide who I am, and he doesn’t have to conceal who he is.
Our bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces that have been missing from the bigger picture for so long. Our future is untold and even after we finish he doesn’t lay some claim over me.
I go and come, and cum, as I please without restraint. We work together to bring down criminals, but mostly I continue to work alone. It’s different now. I am absolutely certain that I’m not a hero, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help save a person or two. I owe it to Brandon to at least try. So that’s what I do. I try to be the woman he sees me as while keeping true to who I really am. It’s a lovely mix between the two but eventually I can see which side of myself will prevail.
It’s the side that won’t run. It’s the side that’s learning to love. It’s the side that gives a bully her hoodie even after she tried to jump her. It’s the side that trusts a man who’s part beast, but a man I know will never hurt me. It’s the side of me that knows my heart is softer than the steel I use to coat it. It’s the side of me that opens her heart to love someone who’s loved me long before I loved myself.
Used By The Dragon God
~ Bonus Story ~
A Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance
Sharon has just celebrated her 21st birthday. She has no idea her world is about to be turned upside down. Her parents should have told her the truth and given her time to prepare, but they did not.
Now she must rely on a sexy stranger with rock hard abs, a perfectly chiseled jaw and smoldering eyes to help her with the task at hand. Sean is her destiny and he will stop at nothing to free her from the perversions of the dreadful Dragon king, Erostis.
Sean shudders at the thought of the vile creature fulfilling his carnal pleasures with his love, but he takes solace in knowing she will not have to suffer at the hands of her tormentor for much longer. Sean knows that together their passion will finally bring down the bastard king, freeing their clan for the last time from centuries of pain, death and torment at the hands of their mortal enemies, the Dragon.
* * *
The dream is always the same. The wings of the mighty beasts flap viciously, fanning the flames of the fire they breathe on the village from above. The villagers run in fear. The monsters descend upon them, grabbing them by the throats and inserting their forked tongues deep inside them; filling them with an unholy light. As the dragons release their energy into the villagers, they transform into mortal men. The villagers become unwilling vessels and are at the mercy of these vile creatures. They cage them like animals where they remain until the Drago return to reclaim their powers. Many of the villager hosts will not survive the energy transfer. Sharon glistens with sweat as she runs from the dragons. She races through the woods trying to escape, but there is nowhere to hide. A creature chases her, calling her name. Sharon turns to confront the beast, but it vanishes into a thick blanket of fog. She calls out, “I know you’re there. Show yourself!” Slowl
y the mist clears revealing a golden dragon. Sharon drops to her knees, terrified the beast will use its long talons to rip her to shreds, but it doesn’t. It slinks toward her. She lowers her head. She can feel the hot breathe on the nape of her neck as it hisses a promise in her ear, “One day, you will be mine.”
Sharon pierces the silence of the early morning with a scream that no one hears. She throws back her covers and pushes herself out of bed. She walks to her second story bedroom window and in the distance spots her parents hoeing straight rows in the rich, fertile soil in the field next to the barn. As long as she can remember her parents have been into nature and have always specialized in growing medicinal herbs, especially weed. In fact, her mother loves making weed edibles and has always had Sharon taste her creations. Every year for her birthday she would create something special, and this year Sharon hoped her mom would make her famous double chocolate chunk weed and hash brownies, after all, you only turn twenty-one once.
Sensing someone watching her, Sharon’s mother turns toward the house. The purple morning twilight is slowly replaced by a magical orange glow as the sun’s light peaks through the tops of the distant mountains. As the light spreads across the sky, she can see her daughter’s silhouette in the bedroom window. Mary’s husband turns to see what she is looking at and spots his daughter in the distance. Putting down his hoe, he walks toward his wife and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“It’s too soon. She’s not ready.” Mary says as she grabs her husband’s hand and gently kisses his palm.
“She’ll be fine. We will tell her everything tonight, after the party.”
Sharon waves at her parents and sees the others begin to emerge from the various out buildings on the farm. There are ten families in all that live and work on the farm. She has known them her entire life. Every morning they gather in the big house, as everyone likes to call it, for a huge family style breakfast. She knows her mom will be heading to the kitchen soon to start cooking the mammoth mound of pancakes everyone will surely devour and it was her job to get all of the ingredients ready. Sharon strips off her nightgown and reaches for a pair of jeans thrown across a nearby chair when she catches her reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the back of her bedroom door. As she stares at her image, she gently runs her right hand over her firm round breast tracing a line over her hard, erect nipple coming to rest on a golden three dimensional tattoo of a sleeping dragon, which hides a small dragon shaped birthmark
on her right hip. She shakes her head as images of the creature from her nightmare fill her thoughts. Downstairs the door slams pulling her out of her trance.
Everyone gathers in the kitchen for breakfast before heading off to complete his or her daily chores. As the sun begins to set, everyone finishes their chores and gets ready for Sharon’s birthday BBQ. After devouring chicken, pork chops, hamburgers, hotdogs, corn on the cob, coleslaw and three different types of potato salad, Mary unveils her famous brownies topped with twenty-one blazing birthday candles. Sharon makes a wish and blows out the candles. Everyone enjoys an evening of drinking, singing and dancing. Sharon tries to remain patient as she eyes the mound of gifts on a nearby picnic table. Patricia approaches Sharon and sits next to her. Patricia has been on the farm as long as she can remeber. She and her husband Tom are artists. Patricia is a tattoo artist and Tom is a glass blower. Patricia pats Sharon on the leg, “I remember the last birthday bash you had.”
Patricia was referring to her 16th birthday. Her parents organized a huge game themed party. A Twister mat was spread out in the grass near the back patio. The sun reflecting off the colored circles where assorted hands and feet struggled to make a contortionist leap to the next colored circle called. In the backyard was a minefield of croquet wickets and every picnic table was festooned with a different board game ranging from Candy Land to Risk. There were also team games like tug of war and dodgeball.
“Yea, it was epic. Capture the flag was my favorite.”
Patricia laughs. Sharon also remembers that was the day her parents let her get a tattoo, but only if Patricia agreed to be the artist. Patricia said she would. Sharon was so excited. Patricia’s skills as an ink master were legendary and she was very selective when it came to her human canvasses. Sharon started thinking about the tattoo she wanted, but Patricia told her she would only do the tattoo if she designed it and chose the placement. Sharon trusted her implicitly and said yes. Patricia revealed her drawing a few weeks later and it was breathtaking. It was a sleeping dragon in various hues of gold. The detail was bind blowing and she could not wait to see how the drawing translated to her skin. She thought Patricia might choose to place it at the base of her back, but Patricia said she was not a big fan of tramp stamps. She suggested another location and it took Sharon by surprise. Patricia wanted to place the golden dragon over her birthmark, hiding it behind the tattoo. Sharon figured what the hell. It did not take her long to complete the tattoo, considering the final product was stunning. Patricia created a three dimensional dragon that looks ready to pounce if awoken from its deep slumber. The expert shadowing creates an illusion that the mighty dragon is inhaling and exhaling deeply as it sleeps. Unconsciously Sharon moves her hand to her right hip where the dragon has remained dormant for twenty-one years.
Patricia smiles warmly, “Happy Birthday Sharon. Pretty soon it will be time for another tattoo.” Sharon’s eyes light up, “I would love that Patricia, thank you.” Patricia hugs her and rejoins her husband.
As Sharon’s eyes follow Patricia she spots her parents and sees her mother’s eyes filling with tears. Sharon’s father motions for her to join them.
“Why so serious?” muses Sharon.
Sharon’s father wastes no time, “We have something to tell you and before we do, you need to promise to just sit there and listen before reacting.”
Sharon crinkles her brow and nods as her father begins weaving a fantastic tale. According to her father’s account, Sharon, her parents and the other families living on the farm are from an ancient clan of Druids bound by the laws of nature. Throughout the centuries, the Drago have abducted the Druids and used them as energy slaves. This reminds Sharon of her dream. Over time, the Druids discovered certain members of their clan had the ability to manipulate the energy of the Drago when it was being held and transform that power into a million points of light that can be dispersed throughout the universe, thus annihilating their enemy.
Convinced the potency of the brownies was way to strong Sharon stares at her parents and quietly whispers, “So what does this have to do with me?”
Sharon’s parents look at one another. Mary grabs her daughter’s hand and says, “The Drago God Erostis has been promised your hand in marriage.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sharon says, glancing around to make sure the party guests haven’t overheard them.
“Watch your language young lady,” warns Sharon’s father. “Let your mother finish.” “She can finish after I open my presents.”
Before being granted permission, Sharon walks over to the table of offerings and announces she is ready to open her gifts. She unwraps a beautiful hand blown glass bong in the shape of a rose; handmade hemp notecards with her initials monogrammed in gold at the top; and assorted soaps and candles. When she finishes opening the gifts from the table Patricia approaches and hands her a flat box wrapped in newspaper. Sharon takes the gift, peels back the paper and gasps at the images in the painting starring back at her. In the fore ground are two lovers entwined in a passionate embrace. In the background is a silhouette of a dragon encircled in flames. A tear streams down Sharon’s cheek. She clutches the painting and looks up at Patricia, “It is beautiful. I will cherish it forever.”
Patricia smiles and says, “That’s your next tattoo.”
Before Sharon can respond, Patricia turns and walks away with her husband. Sharon thanks everyone for a wonderful birthday as they all begin to drift away into the night.
Her moth
er wastes no time picking up where she left off, “As I was saying, you are involved because you are a dragon slayer. We promised your hand in marriage to the Drago King so you can defeat our enemy for the last time, but you have to be careful. If he finds out who you truly are, he will kill you.”
“So that’s it? Nothing else to share, just a bunch of bat shit crazy stories about shape shifting dragons, one of whom I am supposed to marry? Have you lost your fucking minds?” Pointing toward her father, she continues her rant, “And I meant to use the
word fuck, especially considering I am fucked. Clearly, I am having a mental break with reality and should probably get a good night’s sleep. That’s it, that’s what I’ll do, I am going to go to bed.”
Sharon turns and heads toward the house when her mother grabs her arm and explains, “Unfortunately my love, every word of what we just told you is true and it’s time to go.”
Sharon’s father reaches under the picnic table and pulls out a suitcase, Sharon’s suitcase to be precise. Sharon begins shaking her head, muttering under her breathe.
In a harsh tone her father snaps, “Sharon, get ahold of yourself. We have to go. Now!”
During the long drive along the rocky coast, her parents reveal more about her twisted fate. As the Prius rounds an s-shaped curve, they abruptly turn onto a secluded drive. In the distance, a Bedford stone mansion sits precariously close to a sheer cliff that drops into the icy waters of the Atlantic far below.
As the car pulls under the porte-cochère, an enormous wooden door carved with the crest of a dragon, swings open. A group of robed men with baldheads emerges from the house. One of the men approaches Sharon’s car door and opens it. He extends his hand and helps her out. Sharon yanks free and takes off running.
Blindly dashing through the inky darkness, Sharon stumbles over an exposed tree root and falls to the ground. She hears twigs snapping behind her and before she can get up, one of the monks grabs her. She kicks and tries to scream, but he slams his hand over her mouth and plucks her off the ground like a sack of potatoes, throwing her over his shoulder. He carries her in the house and takes her into a great hall dominated by a fireplace on one end and an enormous golden throne on the other. Sitting on the throne is the most beautiful man Sharon has ever seen. His long golden locks tied back at the nape of his neck revealing a perfectly chiseled jaw and high angular cheekbones. His lapis blue eyes reflecting the fire light revealing hidden galaxies swimming in the black voids of his pupils. Shimmering like a mirage Sharon can see what truly lies beneath his human skin; it is the golden dragon from her dreams. She is frightened. Sharon’s mother hugs her daughter and whispers, “Remember what we said.” Her parents are escorted from the great hall leaving Sharon alone with the shapeshifter she is supposed to marry.
Forced To Kill The Prince Page 55