Snatching the computer mouse from its resting place, he swiped it over the desk, waking the shiny Mac he’d recently purchased for Rose. One click later he was online, and sixteen key strikes after that he was looking at what was possibly going to drive him insane or answer all his questions.
He stared at the Google page before him, at all the results presented, before reading the top result.
The Dragon—Animal Symbols of the Celtic Druid.
His stomach knotted once again and his pulse gained speed.
“Yorick Hayes…welcome to Wonderland.”
Chapter 4
Two hours later, sporting a boner so hard it hurt to even think about, his head spinning with everything he’d just read, Rick slumped back in his chair. Holy crap, if even half of what he’d just read was true, he was…
Still in the bloody dark.
He let out a frustrated growl, swiping the mouse across the counter. Damn it, how could just about every site be so vague despite being so verbose? The closest he’d come to understanding anything about Druids and their relationship with dragons was the copious number of Dungeons & Dragons sites he’d read, and quite frankly, he was beginning to question the sanity of the authors of most of them.
Wikipedia offered some supposedly sound information. And just when he thought he had his head around things—Druids, especially the Celtic Druids, were mystical men of religion attuned to the earth and ancient cosmic forces, who performed benevolent rituals to aid those in need—he clicked on another site that claimed the Druids were into human sacrifices and the Romans were scared of them.
Closing his eyes, Rick pictured the old, gray-bearded Druid Getafix, from the Asterix comics he’d read as a kid. That old bugger certainly hadn’t performed human sacrifices, but he had pissed the Romans off.
And this is your go-to source now, is it? A kids’ comic book written by a French dude back in the seventies?
He let out a growl. After spending the last one hundred and twenty minutes reading diddlysquat reliable info on the internet, it appeared it was. At least the Asterix comics didn’t have him butchering virgins to achieve his goals.
His hands glisten, his heart races. Lifting the—
The snippet of memory slammed into him and his stomach churned. His mind told him exactly what his hands glistened with.
Blood. But whose?
Rick’s gut rolled again. Something deep inside him said he didn’t want the answer.
Christ, if his past self had indulged in nefarious deeds involving blood and dragons, what did that make his reaction to Officer Kenna Mackay now? Was it really lust and desire scorching and throbbing through his body, turning his dick to a rod of steel? Or something darker? Something…bad?
A sour taste filled his mouth. He’d found nothing on the Web about Fire Mates. He’d found sweet fuck all about dragons in Sydney. Google told him there was a clip of one flying about at the cliff face known as the Gap but when he clicked on the link, YouTube told him the clip no longer existed.
So, two hours no further in front. And he was still as horny as he’d been when Kenna had been perched on the very counter he now sat at, her thighs spread, her moans caressing his senses, his tongue buried deep in her sweet, wet pussy.
The thought sent fresh, tight heat to his core and his cock jerked. Christ, he was burning up. In pain. If he didn’t come soon, his balls were going to explode.
And note to self—wash the counter before Monday.
He sucked in a shaky breath and bit back a curse as the faint scent of Kenna’s juices, still lingering on his lips and chin, flowed through his nose.
“Ah fuck.”
Teeth grinding, sweat popping out on his forehead, Rick yanked open his fly.
Unhindered by underwear, his cock burst free, its thick girth parting the snug denim of his jeans as if impatient for freedom. The cool air of the waiting room wrapped around it, blisteringly cold against the fevered flesh.
Rick hissed in another breath, taking more of Kenna’s pleasure into his being. A violent spasm claimed his cock, the metal teeth of his fly scraping at the delicate skin of the root. He groaned, the pain almost too exquisite to tolerate. Shucking his jeans over his hips, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. It pulsed in his grip, hotter and stiffer than he’d believed possible.
An image came to him, Kenna lying on his bed, her body gloriously bereft of clothing, her spine arched, her thighs parted. Her fingers slipped into her sodden sex, her nipples puckering to hard tips as he slid his tongue up the length of her belly. She moaned in his head, a sound Rick knew was really his own groan.
Squeezing his cock, he pumped it once, twice. Hot pleasure flooded his body, sinking into the base of his spine, radiating up through his stomach. His toes curled in his boots. He closed his eyes, dropping his head against the chair’s backrest. His cock throbbed in his hand and he pumped it again, again. In his head, Kenna withdrew her fingers from her pussy and lifted them to her breasts, painting first one and then the other with the creamy juices of her pleasure.
“Taste me,” she murmured in his mind, her eyes shimmering an iridescent emerald. “Feast on me.”
He did as asked. He knew it wasn’t real, knew it was his imagination, but the second Rick’s tongue flicked over her cream-slicked nipple, fierce pleasure and elemental desire surged through him and his cock grew fatter and harder in his hand.
Christ…
He fisted his erection, faster and faster. The side of his hand smacked into his balls, painfully exquisite strikes that only propelled him closer to the edge. An edge he needed to fall over soon. Before he lost his sanity.
You’re jacking off to the thought of a cop who’s really a dragon. Think sanity has long left the building, Yorick.
The truth didn’t dampen his arousal. On the contrary. His dick twitched insistently in his grip and his balls throbbed. Daring to open his eyes, he cast his frenzied handiwork a quick look. The sight made him groan. Beads of pre-come anointed his cock head, turning it into a wet, bulbous purple dome. The tiny slit at the end winked at him with every savage pump of his hand, releasing more fluid onto his flesh. It slicked his fingers, stupidly hypnotic to look at. He pictured Kenna’s tongue licking his pleasure from his cock, pictured her hands cupping his balls.
Shards of tension twisted through him, turning his entire body into a bundle of indescribable need. He let out another groan, the sensation close to undoing him. He’d jerked off plenty—what healthy male didn’t?—but never had it felt like this. Like the very fabric of his existence depended on his release. And yet, at the same time, every molecule in his body called for more. Strained and craved for that which wasn’t there.
His Fire Mate.
Kenna.
He needed Kenna. He was about to fucking erupt, was about to paint the ceiling of the waiting room with his come, was about to scream with an orgasm he knew would burn through him like molten lava—and it wasn’t enough.
He needed Kenna or it was just wasted energy.
He needed her, needed to be inside her. Needed to breathe her in, taste her sweat, feel her heartbeat, hear her cries of pleasure. Needed to see her climax as his dick pounded into her body.
It made fuck-all sense, but he needed her desperately. This hand-job was just stoking the fire.
Fire.
Fire Mate.
Need her need my Fire Mate need her…
He came.
With a roar. His hips bucking with furious, rhythmless power. Thick ropes of come spurted from his engorged cock, coating his fingers, his wrist, the counter, the keyboard.
He came, Kenna in his head.
And just as the last of his seed dribbled from his cock, just as every muscle in his body trembled with delicious exertion, the memory smashed into him.
His hands glisten, his heart races. Lifting the sprig of sage, he shakes it over the dragon’s bowed head and with a single stroke, performs the final rite of the soul’s passage, the final thrust of the k
nife into flesh primed with trust and love and—
Rick jerked to his feet. The chair clattered to the floor behind him with jarring volume but he didn’t notice.
His heart leapt into his throat, his cock jerking with entirely unnatural staying power. His breath tore from him in ragged gasps and his stare flicked around the empty waiting room in horror.
He swiped at his mouth with his clean hand, his pulse far too fast for comfort. Knife? Knife? And flesh? Jesus, what kind of Druid had he been?
And why the fuck was he getting a new hard-on just thinking about it?
* * * *
Kenna studied the ornate steel door before her. On the other side, somewhere within the massive, architecturally designed mansion, was a creature she’d sworn over forty-two years ago never to have anything to do with again. Not the resident himself, of course. She’d never met him. But his kind.
She ignored the little voice that whispered, Your kind, you mean? She had hoped to never again deal with another dragon shifter.
Of course, that was before Rick Hayes decided to break the speed limit.
She curled her hands into fists, driving her fingernails into her palms. The resulting pain was meant to settle her flustered mind. It didn’t work. Instead, it made her think of the way Rick’s nails had scraped over her flesh as his tongue swiped and licked her to a mind-blowing orgasm.
Her nipples pinched hard, her pussy constricted and her heart skipped a beat.
“Damn it, Kenna.” She ground her teeth. “Stop it.”
Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow breath, counted to ten and exhaled. The effect on her body was minimal but it was enough. Her heart rate returned to its normal pace, her sex stopped squeezing a cock that wasn’t there and her belly stopped twisting. For the moment at least, she was under some semblance of control.
“Okay,” she murmured. “Let’s do this.”
She opened her eyes, lifted her arm and knocked three times on the door.
Silence greeted her.
Despite the driving urge to turn tail and run, she knocked again. Another three sharp raps.
And bit back a whimper of dismay when the faint echo of footfalls sounded on the other side of the door.
Quick. Run now. Before he opens the—
The door swung open.
Kenna’s breath caught in her throat.
Too late.
A tall man with shaggy black hair and dark, dark eyes stood in a stunningly trendy foyer, his sublime physique and undeniable power highlighted by snug black jeans and an equally snug black polo shirt. He cast her a slow perusal, from head to toe to head again, a subtle tension falling over his muscles as he did so.
“You’re in the mating fire,” Tyson Conley noted, his voice a deep, baritone rumble.
Kenna nodded, staring hard at Sydney’s most powerful dragon shifter, a man to whom she’d never spoken a word. “How do I stop it?”
Tyson burst out laughing, a wholly unabashed sound that tore at Kenna’s tenuous calm. “Stop it?” He grinned, all signs of his earlier tension gone. “You can’t. All you can do is fuck your Fire Mate and enjoy the ride.”
“It’s not funny. And I’m not fucking anyone.”
Tyson’s lips twitched as he crossed tanned arms over his broad chest. “Officer, if you don’t fuck your Fire Mate soon, you’re going to shift into your dragon form and stay that way until you consummate your bond. How long ago did you first come into contact with him?”
Kenna’s stomach fluttered at the question. “Two-thirty this afternoon.”
Tyson’s eyebrows shot up. “So, just over six hours ago? Which leaves you only six more. I’d suggest you get a move on, because I’m not in the mood to organize a media scrub of your sighting when that happens.”
Kenna glared at him, deliberately resting her hand on the butt of her Glock. She’d picked up her own car but had intentionally worn her uniform, hoping it would tell Tyson Conley she wasn’t easily intimidated. However, it seemed that intimidating her wasn’t part of Tyson’s plan. Pointing out the flaws of being a dragon shifter and laughing at her…those seemed to be his first choices.
She shifted on her feet, doing her best to appear taller. It didn’t work. Not when compared to him. What was the guy? Eight-foot-twelve?
“You seem to have done a decent job of ‘scrubbing’ the media of your sightings, however,” she snarled. And yes, it was a snarl. Damn it, her dragon was getting closer and closer to the surface.
Instead of getting angry at her comment, Tyson Conley laughed again. “No one ever said being a dragon shifter in today’s world of smartphones was easy, Officer. Now tell me, why don’t I know of you? I was under the impression there were no female dragon shifters in Sydney.”
“I keep to myself.”
Tyson studied her again. “And you haven’t been in Australia for long, judging by your accent. Where are you from?”
Kenna clenched her jaw. “I didn’t come here to chitchat. I came here to find out how to stop the mating fire. There must be a way.”
Tyson shook his head. “Nope. Nada. Zilch.” His lips twitched again. Kenna couldn’t believe the grinning man before her was the same dragon she’d heard about, his name whispered in hushed tones of reverent awe. The guy seemed to take things as seriously as Rick.
At the unbidden thought of her Fire Mate, prickling heat raced over Kenna’s body. Her pussy started its hungry, demanding throb again, her nipples pinching into aching points.
Oh you idiot.
Tyson’s eyes narrowed. His nostril flared. “It seems to me you’re running out of time, Officer…?”
Kenna scrunched up her face, scrubbing at it with her hands. Hands that were, she was dismayed to realize, trembling noticeably. “This isn’t a social visit!” she snapped. “I just want answers and you’re my only hope. And you don’t need to know my name, do you understand? I want nothing to do with dragons. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever!”
Tyson’s eyebrows shot up. “Bit tricky when you’ve already met your Fire Mate, I would say.”
“He’s not a dragon.”
The statement wiped the mirth from Tyson Conley’s face. “He’s human?”
Kenna’s mouth suddenly felt dry. She shook her head. Nodded it. Shook it again. Oh God, what the hell was going on with her? “Druid.”
The title croaked from her, an image of Rick filling her mind. Deep inside her existence, her dragon stirred, as if testing the binds of Kenna’s control.
Tyson studied her, an intensity in his expression. It was intimidating. And he seemed somehow…unsurprised.
Her cop instincts kicked in, overriding her preternatural ones. Did he know something about her?
No, he’s already professed ignorance of your existence in Sydney. So it’s something else.
“Druid?”
She nodded. “Tell me what you know.”
When Tyson’s gaze flicked to the side, Kenna could have sworn he fought the urge to look back over his shoulder into his opulent home. Then he was reaching out and resting his hand on the heavy doorknob. “Officer This-Is-Not-A-Social-Visit, let me say this as clearly as I can. The mating fire cannot be ignored. It cannot be stopped and it cannot be denied. And from what I can smell on your person, you’ve already begun the joining.”
“But—”
A blast of heat slammed into her and she blinked, gaping at the man standing in front of her. Whoa, how had he done that? And why? Anger? He didn’t look angry. The complete opposite, in fact.
He fixed her with an unwavering gaze. “No buts, Officer. While I’d love to get to know more about you, specifically why you want nothing to do with our kind, you’re running out of time. You’re running out of time and you’re running out of control. I can see it in your eyes. Take it from me—you don’t want to push the time limit on this. A horny female dragon hungry for her human Fire Mate presents all sorts of images I don’t want to consider.”
Kenna’s head was suddenly filled with the ima
ge of Rick Hayes running full-sprint, his face etched in terror, as a massive white dragon shuffled after him, wings wide and flapping, tail lashing side to side.
Her stomach flipped. And flopped. Oh boy, she hadn’t pictured her dragon form in over forty years, and this was the first image she got?
More disturbing was how quickly her body responded to the image. Flush after flush swept over her, tremendous heat that sought out her most intimate places. Like fingers of fire caressing her nipples, her inner thighs…like tongues of liquid heat lapping at her sex, her clit, her anus.
She sucked in a swift breath and, God help her, tasted Rick.
How was that possible?
Tyson lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think it’s time you go do what your dragon is telling you to do—and if your Druid is who I think he is, we’ll see you for dinner tomorrow night.”
And with that, Tyson Conley, Kenna’s only font of dragon-shifter knowledge beyond her woefully limited own, grinned at her and closed the door firmly in her face.
For a stunned moment, Kenna stared at it. For another one, she considered banging her fist on the door, pulling her Glock and demanding Tyson tell her what the hell that last bit meant, the part about dinner. Her fingertips even moved to her gun holster.
And then a wave of fire tore over her body so demanding, so hot, so…so…engulfing, she could do little but double over and whimper, image after image after image of Rick filling her head, burning her alive.
Need him. Want him. Oh God, I need…
She forced herself upright. Swinging her gaze to her car, she forced her lungs to pull in ragged breaths.
Ambiguity and mystery aside, Tyson Conley was right about one thing—she was running out of time. It had been more than six hours since she’d first encountered Rick Hayes. Since the mating fire began. That left her little time. If she didn’t have sex with him soon, Druid or not, Kenna was shifting into her other form and the unthinkable would happen. She would remain a dragon until she and Rick consummated the mating fire. And forcing sex on a guy while she was all huge and scaly and beasty was something too hideous to contemplate.
How to Love Your Dragon Page 5