Banning

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Banning Page 9

by Julia Mills


  Keeping his lips tight to hers, his hands still on her ass, the Guardsman stood with the most wonderful woman he could ever imagine wrapped tightly around his body and strode to the bathroom, begrudgingly letting her shapely legs slide down his body. Breaking their kiss, he used his preternatural speed to strip them both naked then start the water in Myanna’s deep, roman tub.

  Knowing beyond all doubt he would always want Myanna as much as he wanted her in that moment, Banning picked Myanna up and stepped into the tub while inhaling her as if she was the very air he breathed. Rejoicing in the shivers that racked her body as the hot water touched her flesh, Banning panted as the soft curls covering her mound teased his hard cock.

  Taking a seat, he grasped Myanna’s waist, pulled his lips from hers, and while looking deep into her hypnotic hazel eyes, positioned the head of his cock against the quivering lips of her pussy and held completely still. With his dragon riding him hard, the Guardsman’s voice was more of a growl than he’d intended as he promised, “You are mine, Myanna Aryn MacCallion, now and forever more.”

  With lust-soaked eyes and kiss-swollen lips, Myanna slowly pushed her body down until just the tip of him slid inside and sassed, “You have no clue, Dragon Man.”

  Her words, just like the woman herself, captivated Banning. Thrusting his hips forward to meet Myanna’s downward motion, he drove his cock into her pussy until he could go no further. Loving the feel of her body stretching to accommodate his cock, he watched in wonder as Myanna threw back her head and rolled her hips, repeating his name over and over like a prayer to the Heavens.

  “Look at me, Myanna. Look at the man and the dragon who would defy death just to remain by your side.”

  As her head snapped forward and her eyes speared him with a look of white-hot desire and need, Banning lifted his mate until he almost fell from her body then instantaneously thrust back into her warm, wet pussy as she pushed down onto him. Their pace immediately became frantic. Over and over their bodies met, the slaps of their flesh splashed water onto the floor, the fire within them blazing toward its explosive climax.

  Myanna’s hands were everywhere. She teased and taunted his body, making his dragon roar in extreme pleasure and his glyph writhe upon his skin. Nipping at his jaw, she taunted the spot behind his ear that drove him wild, teased the marking, a set of dragon wings sitting atop a few gentle waves given to them both by the Universe, and whispered, “More…faster…I need…I need…oh, sweet Heavens…I need…”

  “What is it, Myanna, grá mo shaol? What do you need of the man who loves you so?” He struggled to speak as his canines lengthened and the scales of his dragon appeared on the backs of his hands, his need to mark her with his teeth pushing his every action.

  “I need…you…Only…ever…you.”

  Lifting her a bit higher, Banning tilted his hips. The change in position let the head of his cock rub the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of her channel and his hips to bump her aroused clit. Myanna’s movements became desperate, her nails biting deeper still into the skin of his shoulders as she gasped to breathe.

  Moving furiously in and out of his mate’s heavenly body, Banning could no longer resist the call of his dragon and his mate. Kissing down the elegant column of her neck, he reached the pounding of her pulse just under the Universe’s mark of Blessing. Need exploded in every cell of his body. There would never be another who affected him so. The time to mark his mate was at hand and Banning would not be denied.

  Licking her pulse one last time, he slid his canines into her skin, throwing them both into the life-affirming climax whose flames licked at their souls like an out-of-control wildfire. Myanna threw back her head, screaming his name to the Heavens as her pussy milked him in sync with their combined heartbeats and he bathed her insides with the heat of his release.

  Lifting his head from her neck, the Guardsman looked into the lazy eyes of the woman who’d claimed not only his heart, but also his soul and that of his dragon’s. He could see their future, the happily ever after promised to every one of the Universe’s Winged Warriors going on forever and ever.

  He grinned as her hand lazily touched the mating marks on her neck, his pride unyielding. He wanted the world to know he loved every single thing about his Myanna.

  Chuckling as she collapsed against his chest, Banning sighed, enjoying the way her body continued to shiver and shake with mini orgasms that tickled them both. Feeling his cock once again hardening within her, he barked with laughter when his beautiful mate raised her head and yelped in shock, “Again?”

  Rolling his hips, Banning didn’t even attempt to stop the sly smile from sliding across his lips when Myanna gasped, her eyes once again half-lidded and her fingers digging into his shoulders. Laying his lips to hers, he groaned, “Always for you,” as her pussy closed even tighter around him and her hips danced a lazy figure eight on his lap.

  Their lovemaking continued until both were boneless. Lifting a sleepy but well relaxed Myanna from the tub, he carefully dried his mate, throwing whatever towels he could find over the water on the floor, then making his way into her bedroom.

  Laying Myanna in the middle of her bed, he followed her to the mattress, placing his head on the pillow next to hers, watching her sleep. Slowly opening her eyes, blissful contentment shining in her eyes, she breathed, “I love you, Banning MacCallion, so much that I have to pinch myself to be sure I’m not still dreaming.”

  Brushing the soft waves of her hair from her face, Banning slowly kissed both of Myanna’s cheeks, the tip of her nose, and both sides of her delectable lips before lifting his head ever so slightly and promising, “I love you, Myanna MacCallion, with a ferocity I did not know was possible. You are my sun, moon, and stars. Without you, I will simply cease to exist,”

  Laying her hand over his heart, her eyes dancing with mirth and a cheeky grin turning up at the corner of her stunningly pink lips, Myanna winked, “I couldn’t have said it better, but you better be careful, bub.” Her grin grew to a smile. “You are the silly dragon who not only made my dreams come true, but made me a Queen and a wife all in one day.” Her fingers tickled the scant hairs on his chest as she chuckled. “I just can’t wait to see what you do for an encore.”

  Pulling her tight to his body and kissing her with all that he was, Banning chuckled directly into her mind, “Never fear, Myanna, my love. I have so very many plans for us…”

  Until Next Time…

  Epilogue

  “Dang if it isn’t great to have you back home, Brother.”

  Nowell hugged his twin back as at least as hard as Chance hugged him. Sure, they were grown, both older than anyone had a right to be and as stubborn as the day was long, but being a twin and sharing your soul with a Dragon King who was the twin to the Dragon King living in your brother’s soul was well…kinda like an electromagnet kicked up to super-max and pointed at a metric ton of steel. There was no way to escape and no reason to waste the energy fighting it.

  “It’s good to be back,” Nowell took a step back. “It was colder than…”

  "Than an elf's ass on Christmas Eve," Lettie, Nowell's mate and the absolute love of his life teased as she stepped out from behind him and held out her hand. "I'm Scarlett, but you can call me Lettie." She let go of Chance's hand and leaned into Nowell as he put his arm around her shoulder.

  Holding her close, just the way he liked it, Nowell chuckled, “And that’s my brother, Chance.” He leaned closer, loving the way her scent of evergreen and cinnamon filled his senses. “Chance, meet my mate.”

  With a cheesy grin that assured Chance was going to try as hard as he could to embarrass Nowell, the older of the twins winked, “Yeah, I mighta heard of you.” Then laughing out loud he added, “Noe’s not the best with keepin’ his thoughts under wraps.”

  “And neither are you, my love,” chuckled a voice that sounded like tiny silver bells just as the elf who’d captured Chance’s heart appeared from inside their home. Stopping beside her mate,
she smiled at Nowell and Lettie as she continued to tease, “I have no doubt Nowell knows way more about me than I would be comfortable knowing but is just too nice to tell me.”

  Loving that the little elf could make his twin blush, Nowell jumped on the chance to get even for one of the few times in their lives and joked, “Damn, she sure knows you, Brother.” Stepping forward with Lettie still under his arm, the younger twin held out his hand and smiled, “Just to make things formal, I’m Nowell and this is Scarlett, my mate.”

  Reaching to shake his hand, Belle opened her mouth to speak but her words were cut off as the sound of a Dragon’s roar closely followed by crashing glass and breaking wood cut through the cool evening air. Pulling Lettie even closer as his brother did the same with his mate, both breathed a sigh of relief as Maddox’s voice sounded in their minds, “All clear. We got him back under control. Nowell and Scarlett, can you come back to the Clinic?”

  Looking down as his mate looked up, Nowell kissed the tip of her nose before looking up at his brother and answering the question he could hear swirling in Chance’s mind. “Remember that package I told you we were bringing home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it just woke up.”

  Now! Just for YOU!

  The First Chapter of ASHER – Book #2 in the Dragon Guard Berserker Series

  Get Your Copy HERE!

  Chapter One

  “Look, Detective Kazinski.” It was hard not to cringe when she said his name. Not only was he a bastard, but he was also a liar, a cheat, and a drunk. Three things she’d experienced firsthand and hated with a shiny purple passion. Looking into his eyes was like looking into her stepfather’s, all she saw was hate and self-loathing. Men like Kazinski who’d lied, cheated and stolen to get what they had were snakes. A lifetime of looking over their shoulders had made them paranoid and dangerous. They used intimidation and fear to get what they wanted, the two things Willa was thankfully now immune to.

  “I know we have somewhat of a ‘tenuous’ working relationship, but you have to listen to me.” The last words were spoken through gritted teeth with her hands fisted on the strap of her purse so tightly the silver studs bit into her palms. “This is a matter of life and death.”

  Sitting back in his rickety, worn, wooden chair, the squeak of the springs so loud it echoed off the dingy green walls, the overinflated, ego-maniac with the worst comb-over in the world, sucked at his brownish- yellow teeth and snorted, "The only thing I have to do is listen to your complaint.” He chewed on the end of a cracked pen like he’d been without food for a week as he rocked even farther back, prompting Willa to promise herself to buy the city a can of WD-40 and personally deliver it to Det. Assface as she listened to him add, “And, if I’m honest, you’re lucky I haven’t thrown you in a cell for wasting my time.”

  Another screech of metal-on-metal made chills run down her spine as the literal bane of her existence flopped forward, let his elbows plop on the pock-marked top of his desk, and threw his pen down as he narrowed his beady mud-brown eyes and sneered, “You need to get your dirty gypsy ass outta my office and out of this station before I figure out a way to charge with you with aiding and abetting, obstructing justice, and waste of city funds for your fuck up with the Cecily Mathers case.” He was breathing hard, his face was turning red, and his voice shook. "I would love nothing better than to let the ladies in Cell Block C have fun with you for ten to twenty."

  Squaring her shoulders, shoving the pain she felt at the mention of the little girl who had been kidnapped, tortured and eventually murdered, Willa got to her feet, leaned over the desk and seethed, “That little girl’s death is all on you, Det. Kazinski and you damn well know it. You fucked that up and tried to pin it on me. If you’d just listened and gone where I told you, she wouldn’t have died. But no. Not you. You knew better. Then when the heat came down from above, you did what all cowards do, you ran and hid and used me as a scapegoat. You smeared my name through the press just to keep your lazy, fat ass in that chair.” Putting the tips of the fingers of her left hand on the top of his dirty, stained desk calendar, she leaned as close to him as she could stand, the scent of stale cigarettes and whiskey assaulting her senses. “Wanna look me in the eye and tell me any different, Alan?”

  The color drained from the detective’s face at the use of his first name which only strengthened Willa’s need to watch him squirm like the leech that he was. “Maybe I should ask Mary or Beth or Sally, hmm? Whatcha think? I’m sure your ex-wives would have lots to say.”

  Pushing up to her full height of five-foot-nothing, she gave her hands a quick wipe on her long multi-colored skirt and winked, “Or would it be better if I talked to Jacob and Ashley?” She narrowed her eyes. “You remember them dontcha? There the kids you had out of wedlock and never acknowledged.”

  “Why you…” Detective Kazinski jumped to his feet, his face as red as a fire engine with sweat dotting his forehead and upper lip as he continued his growled threat, “lowlife, piece of trash, fucking gypsy, if you so much as…”

  “Detective Kazinski!” Daniel Metcalfe, the Chief of Police bellowed, his thick black eyebrows so low only the slimmest crescent of his onyx eyes could be seen. “My office, now.” Turning to Willa, he bowed his head before softly acquiesced, “Please except the Department’s sincerest apologies.” Stepping forward, he handed her a stark white business card as he attempted to smile. “If you wish to lodge a formal complaint, please contact me directly.” Moving to the side, allowing Det. Kazinski to flee the scene, the tall man, also Romani added, “We have a zero-tolerance policy where racial bigotry is concerned. You can rest assure, Det. Kazinski will be reprimanded for his behavior today.”

  "Thank you, Chief…Daniel." The last word was barely a whisper that she had no idea if he'd heard or not.

  Watching as the man she'd known from her childhood as Danny, Willa couldn't help but be sad that they'd lost touch. He'd been one of her closest friends, had run with the ‘group', and had always had her back. But then, his parents got divorced and Daniel's mom, Henrietta, packed up and took him back to her hometown in Texas. She'd had enough of the Romani's, enough of being treated like an outsider and most of all, enough of being treated like a slave. It wasn't until his picture was in the paper announcing that he was the new Chief of Police that Willa even knew he was back in town.

  “Oh, well, can’t go back,” she sighed under her breath as she turned away and headed through the busy squad room towards the front entrance.

  Ignoring the hostile stares and whispered slurs, Willa burst through the tall, wooden and glass double doors, stomped down the concrete steps and threw herself into Mars’ red, white and primer gray ’67 Mustang convertible. Slamming the door with a loud exhale, she let her head fall back onto the headrest that was more black electrical tape than leather and foam and groaned, “Is it too early to get drunk?”

  The loud rumble of the 320hp her best friend had rebuilt with his own two hands roared to life making her crack a smile right before he snickered, “It’s five ‘o’ clock somewhere.” Putting the car into gear and burning rubber as he tore away from the curb, Mars added, “Guess old Dickface wouldn’t listen?”

  “No, he wouldn’t.” She let out another defeated sigh. “He just brought up…umm…brought up…” She couldn’t make herself say the little girl’s name, not again. Thankfully, Mars’ understood and immediately patted her hand on the seat. “I know, Will. I know.”

  Having Mars' by her side eased some of the pain. He was one of those people with the ability to make even the darkest days seem better, lighter…happier. The sound of the wind ripping through the open windows and the rumble of the engine further helped to sooth some of Willa's frustration but also opened the doorway in her mind that led to the wounded man. The one she'd been trying to get Det. Asshat to rescue. Visions of the man trapped in the darkness chained like a dog to something large, dense and damn near impenetrable, literally trying to climb what she could only gue
ss was stone with what looked like long, sharp talons assaulted her consciousness.

  His howls of pain and sorrow reached to the bottom of her soul, wrapped around her heart, and demanded that she take heed. The maelstrom inside his mind was powerful, treacherous and trying to consume his very soul. Flashes of powerful white magic exploded again and again, attacking the ominous evil, trying to force it from his mind, pushing it back, only to be overcome again and again.

  The battle was real. He was fighting for his every existence, reaching for Willa like a lifeline, his only way out of the darkness, but no matter how hard she tried, the oily, slithering darkness kept her at bay. Mars had offered to help, to combine his gifts with her, but there was no way she could put her friend in danger. This was her fight. The man was hers to save. It was a clear as the nose on her face.

  Yep, if I only knew who he was, where he was, and how to help him…

  She’d gone to the Rom Baro, the Leader of her Clan and Coven, but Bogdi had been stubborn as useless, like every other time. Flatly refusing to help a gadjo, outsider, with a snort and a sneer followed by laughter from his Council, the bastard had told Willa to go away. "Go see to your sisters," he jibed, his thick Romani accent ringing in her ears. "Mind your place, Girl. Do your chores and do not waste my time or any man’s with your foolish talk.”

  Had it not been for Mars grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the tent, Willa had no doubt she would be locked in a cave awaiting sentencing from the Council of Elders for telling Bogdi what she thought of his antiquated ideology and sexist attitude. Sure, he was pushing nine-hundred and something years old, but years alive meant nothing when it came to saving a life, and Willa knew that sooner or later the Rom Baro would need her help, her ability to see the past and the future and the strong magic she'd inherited from her father. Then she would have her say by telling him what an impotent old fool he was and spitting in his face.

 

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