Dragon Actually dk-1

by G. A. Aiken

  She was gorgeously naked underneath. Bercelak placed his hand against her breast and squeezed before moving down her body, past her hips, only to slip his fingers between her trembling thighs.

  “Wait.”

  “Still not right,” he muttered low, unable to turn away from the sight of his hand disappearing between her legs. As soon as two of his fingers slid inside her they both let out a low moan.

  So wet and hot. Like a volcano. Just thinking of having his cock buried there for several days or years was making him shake like a young one.

  He started shafting her with his fingers and she groaned in response, her eyes shut and her teeth biting into her bottom lip. Leaning in close he kissed her cheek and couldn’t help but mutter, “Mine, Rhiannon. You’re mine.”

  And that’s when he felt her claws slash across his face.

  Yanking his hand out of her and away, he stumbled back. He could feel and smell the blood dripping down his jaw.

  “I belong to no one, Low Born. And if you hope to trap me with this game, you are sadly mistaken.”

  He didn’t even wipe the blood away as he stared at her. As they stared at each other. Their eyes locked in silent battle.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You force me into a Claiming, and I can fight you with the Elders. And we both know it.” Aye. He did know that. “But if I let you willingly take me . . . fuck me . . . I have very little room to argue, now do I?”

  She pulled her robe together and knotted the tie around it. “You’ll have to work a little harder than that, Bercelak the Vengeful, to ever hope of Claiming me.”

  Rhiannon walked past him, her shoulder brushing his as she stalked out. “I will be Claimed by no one, Low Born,” she said over her shoulder. “But especially not by you.”

  She disappeared around the corner and although his cock was so hard it hurt, he couldn’t help but smile. Because she didn’t even realize . . . she still never said the word, “No.”

  * * *

  Once a good distance away from him, Rhiannon stopped and slid down the wall. She glanced at her hand. For several seconds it had returned to claw. Promising. She may be able to reverse this spell yet. But she couldn’t worry about it at the moment. Not when thoughts of a black-eyed dragon kept playing through her head. Just with his fingers he’d managed to make her feel . . . full. For those few seconds she was his.

  Gods, could she be any weaker? What kind of queen would she be if she couldn’t keep the local riffraff from her pussy?

  But was it really that simple? She’d let Bercelak get away with more in the few hours she’d been with him than with any other dragon she’d ever met. And, she had to admit, it wasn’t merely because her mother had trapped her in this weak, human body. No, it was worse than that. She liked Bercelak’s touch. She liked having his hands on her. She was, in fact, beginning to like him.

  And she absolutely hated him for it.

  Chapter 4

  Rhiannon spent the hour before dawn trying to undo whatever her mother had done to her so she could shift back to dragon. But to no avail.

  She missed her dragon self. She missed her wings and her talons. She missed being able to take a horse for a quick meal.

  But most importantly, she felt unsafe in this human body. She poked at her skin and it hurt. She dug her nail into her forearm and it bled. By the gods! How do these humans live like this?

  And then there was Bercelak. She thought for sure he’d come to her last night. He’d come to Claim her. And she’d been prepared, too. Ready to challenge him as human. Ready to die if he’d come as dragon. But he didn’t come at all. And, in the end, neither did she.

  Damn him! She’d never had a male, any male, make her feel so . . . so . . . needy. And not for food or safety or any of those important things. But for sex. She wanted a lusty ride from that bastard and she hated him for making her feel this way. Especially when she’d been so comfortable with not feeling anything at all.

  “Are you ready?”

  She looked away from the early-morning two suns to the dragon standing beside her. They stood at the mouth of his den, leagues above the earth. If she fell from here now, she’d die. Perhaps that was what her mother had hoped for. That her human form would crumple and Bercelak would be forced to deal with the remains.

  “I’m still waiting for you to explain to me why we are going to Kerezik.”

  She pulled at the collar of the dress she wore. It wasn’t in any way high. In fact, it scooped dangerously low across her breasts. Much more and her nipples would show. She hated wearing clothes, but she felt terribly bare without them, and felt suffocated when she had them on.

  “We are, in fact, going to the valley between the grand mountains of Kerezik.”

  “Fascinating. Still waiting on why.”

  He looked at her and his scales barely hid where she’d ripped into his flesh. She didn’t bother to hide her smirk at that.

  “And you’ll continue to wait,” he growled. “Now get on, dragoness. Or I’ll bring you there in my claw.”

  Without another word, she hoisted herself onto his back. “I haven’t ridden on the back of another dragon since I was no more than a hatchling. This might prove to be fun.”

  To emphasize that point, she dragged her hands through his hair before taking a firm hold. She heard his stifled moan and bit her lip to keep from laughing. There was only so much mocking any dragon could take.

  Without another word, Bercelak hit the skies and headed toward Kerezik . . . and whatever was in Kerezik.

  “And you remember my mother.”

  Rhiannon barely held her growl in as Bercelak introduced her to all his kin. An extremely large, handsome brood who all felt the need to be human on this day. Even Bercelak brought a change of clothes with him. Chainmail leggings and shirt and a dark blue surcoat with the crest of humans destroyed by the queen’s army long ago.

  He introduced her to all his kin as the female he intended to Claim.

  Bastard!

  His mother briefly bowed her head, but she saw the hate in the woman’s eyes. “Princess.”

  “Mistress.”

  Gold eyes turned to Bercelak. “May I speak with you a moment, my son?”

  “Of course.” He nodded at her. “I’ll be right back.”

  “As you like,” Rhiannon muttered, wishing she’d ripped his throat out the night before.

  Someone, she had no idea who, placed a goblet of wine into her hand while she leaned against a large dining table already laid out in preparation of a feast.

  “I’m Maelona.”

  “I remember,” Rhiannon sighed, unable to hide her annoyance at her current situation.

  “Bercelak’s youngest sister.”

  Rhiannon fought her urge to say, “So?”

  “I’m a witch, too.”

  Now Rhiannon looked at the female in surprise. A petite green dragon with Bercelak’s black eyes, she was extremely pretty as human with her dark green hair. And she probably glittered like emeralds when dragon. She leaned against the table beside Rhiannon.

  “Witch? Me? My skills are . . .” Rhiannon shrugged. “Weak.” Embarrassingly so.

  “Really?” Another sister, Ghleanna or something, leaned against the table on the other side of Rhiannon. “That’s surprising. A white dragon with no Magick at all? Doesn’t sound right.”

  Was anything right at the moment?

  “Perhaps.”

  “Ever wonder why?”

  “Ever wonder why what?”

  “Why your Magick seems to be lacking?”

  “No. I just assumed I was born that way.”

  Ghleanna, a black dragon and several decades older than Bercelak, raised one glossy black brow. “Perhaps.”

  “What does that mean?” Rhiannon had no patience for word games with the lower classes.

  Instead of answering the question, Ghleanna asked one of her own. “You do know that your mother was with our father . . . long before any of
us were born, of course.”

  “Ghleanna!” her younger sister admonished.

  “What? I don’t think it’s a secret.”

  “It’s not.” Rhiannon sipped her wine. “From what I understand there are few of a certain age who have not lain with your father.”

  “True enough,” Ghleanna laughed. “My father has a way with all females. It’s in his blood.”

  “And passed down to all of you, I suppose?”

  “A couple of our brothers. And one of our sisters.”

  “And Bercelak.”

  Both sisters spit out their wine.

  Rhiannon looked between the two women, one eyebrow raised. “Something I said?”

  “Bercelak who?” Ghleanna demanded as she wiped her chin.

  “Our Bercelak?” Maelona asked in surprise.

  “Well . . . yes.”

  “He’s nothing like father.”

  “Father’s very jovial and happy,” Maelona explained. “Whereas Bercelak is very . . . um . . .”

  “Sour and impossibly cranky?”

  “That’s not fair, sister.” Maelona looked at Rhiannon. “He’s always been nice to me.”

  “He’s been nice to me, too,” Ghleanna interrupted. “But he’s still not exactly the life of anyone’s party. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile.”

  “Mother said he used to smile . . . you know . . . until father,” she shrugged, “well . . . you know.”

  Ghleanna took another gulp of wine. “Father’s way of raising us differs from most.”

  “You do learn to stay on your guard. I’ve never been captured or harmed during battle.”

  “Aye. That’s true.”

  Curious at what their reactions might be, Rhiannon admitted, “Bercelak smiles at me.”

  Both sisters froze at Rhiannon’s words. Then they slowly turned to face her.

  “He smiled? At you?” Ghleanna asked softly.

  “Aye. A few times yesterday. And once before many years ago.”

  Ghleanna’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure it was Bercelak?”

  “I think I’d know. I’ve only been held captive by one black dragon these days.”

  Maelona shook her head in wonder. “That’s fascinating. I’m not sure any of us have seen him smile . . . ever.”

  “I thought he was physically incapable.”

  Rhiannon frowned at Ghleanna’s words. “Well he’s not,” she snapped.

  Wait. What was she doing? Why did she feel the need to defend the bastard? Gods! She was pathetic!

  With a growl, Rhiannon walked away from the two females, leaving them to chatter to each other in low whispers.

  Bercelak took his mother’s hands. “Please. Trust me.”

  “I trust you, son.” His mother’s gold eyes shifted to the female of his dreams. “It’s she I do not trust.”

  She pulled one hand away and her cool fingers carefully slid along her son’s jaw. Right where Rhiannon had clawed him the previous eve. Healing nicely, it still felt a bit sore. “What is this? Did she do this to you?”

  “I angered her.”

  “Is this going to be your life? Praying you don’t anger the crazy bitch because you fear she’ll kill you in your sleep?”

  Bercelak looked at his mother in mock surprise. “Why, Mother. I’m shocked at your words.”

  “You sound like your father.” She went up on her toes to get a better look at his wound. “I won’t tolerate her hurting you, my son. I’ll kill the bitch first.”

  “Weren’t you the one who tried to cut father’s throat before he Claimed you?”

  “He deserved it. You, however, do not.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know my son. I know all my hatchlings.” And she protected all of them. Even from their mad father. “Can’t we get you someone else? Someone . . . kinder?”

  “I don’t want kinder. I want Rhiannon.”

  They both watched as Rhiannon walked across the room, a goblet of wine in her hand. A large dog ran up to her and she crouched beside it. She ran a hand over its hide and then leaned in and sniffed it.

  “Rhiannon?” he called out softly. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “No.”

  “No what?”

  “He’s a pet. Not a treat.”

  She frowned. “Pet?” She let out an annoyed sigh and stood up, walking around the beast.

  He smiled at her confusion over human living and he heard his mother gasp.

  “What?” he asked, looking down into her beautiful face.

  “She made you smile.”

  “Aye. Rhiannon always makes me smile.”

  Shalin dropped her head against her son’s chest. “Dark gods, I’ve lost you forever.”

  Bercelak rolled his eyes. “I think, Mother, that’s a tad extreme.”

  Sipping her wine, Rhiannon looked around the hall she stood in. Bercelak didn’t take her to some mountain fortress to meet his kin. Ailean kept his family in a castle. A gorgeous castle nestled in a valley between the Taaffe Mountains of Kerezik. But this seemed a strange way for any dragon to live. The only way to enter the building was to shift to human. No one in dragon form could get through the doors.

  Rhiannon had heard many tales about Bercelak’s father, Ailean the Wicked. In fact, details about his many, many, many loves and conquests filled volume after volume of books her own father would never let her read. She’d always heard he preferred to live among the humans, but she never realized to what extent until now.

  He even had human servants who seemed to have no fear of the dragons they served.

  Strange.

  “Well, well, well,” a great voice boomed behind her. “My son’s female.” Before Rhiannon had a chance to argue that particular point, a large hand slapped her on the back as way of greeting. She stumbled forward, thankfully right into Bercelak’s arms; otherwise she would have ended up face down on the marble floor.

  Bercelak helped steady her. “Are you all right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Fragile little thing, isn’t she?”

  Growling, Rhiannon turned around to face the one behind her, but she froze on the spot and stared.

  By the dark gods of fire, he’s gorgeous!

  This had to be Ailean. Built much like Bercelak and all Bercelak’s brothers, the dragon had blue hair streaked with the white of age that reached down his back and swept across the floor. His sharp silver eyes looked back at her with curiosity as sinfully full lips tilted into a smirk that made her knees weak. All this explained why his offspring were so beautiful—their father was that and so much more.

  No wonder her mother had taken a tumble in this dragon’s bed. He had to be at least in his fifth or six hundredth winter and yet he was strong, powerful, and deadly attractive still.

  When she didn’t say anything, simply stared at him, Bercelak nudged her shoulder.

  “Say something,” he near snarled between his teeth.

  So she did. To his father. “You are absolutely gorgeous.”

  Ailean grinned and looked at his son. “Well, at least we know she has damn good taste.”

  “Excuse us.”

  Then Bercelak was dragging her from the room, but she continued to stare at Ailean until a door slamming shut in front of her cut off her view.

  This wasn’t the first time a female he was intimate with stared at his father with such keen interest. Before he’d never cared. But this was Rhiannon . . . his Rhiannon. And jealousy was fairly choking him to death at the moment.

  He turned her to look at him, both hands gripping her upper arms. “Could you have been more obvious?”

  She blinked in confusion. “Obvious about what?”

  “Your blatant admiration of my father.”

  “Well even you have to admit he’s bloody gorgeous!”

  He didn’t have to admit a damn thing.

  She winced. “Oooh. Well that came out terribly wrong. What I mean is . . . I suddenly understand my mother a little bette
r.” She grabbed onto the arms holding her. “If he looks like that as human, what by the dark gods does his dragon-form look like? It must be magnificent!”

  He couldn’t take anymore. Hearing her talk about his father like that filled him with a territorial need he’d never had with any female before.

  The grip he had on her arms tightened as he pushed her against the far wall. She only had time to let out a gasp before his mouth covered hers. She struggled, her arms trying to yank away from his hands, but he refused to let her go. Instead he tilted his head to the side, getting a better angle, his tongue thrusting between her lips and into her warm mouth.

  He felt her move her leg and not wanting her to shove her knee in his groin, Bercelak pushed his hips forward, trapping her lower body with his own.

  She gasped again and his rational mind demanded he release her. But her hips tipped forward the tiniest bit, pushing herself against his rapidly growing erection. He stilled, afraid he might be misreading her, but then her tongue gently rubbed against his.

  That was all he needed. He released her arms so he could dig his hands into her hair, holding her head still for his kiss. Her arms, now free, wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. Her response, nearly explosive in its carnality, had his legs shaking from lust. His control broken, Bercelak thrust his hips against hers. She groaned into his mouth and his hips thrust again, determined to give them both release.

  But a banging on the door stopped him.

  “Oi! Brother!” He could hear his brothers laughing hysterically from the other side of the door. “Father begs your attendance at dinner, O mighty battle-dragon, defender of the queen’s throne!”

  “And defender of the queen’s daughter!” one of his sister’s yelled as well.

  He went to pull away, but Rhiannon clung to his neck with a grip bordering on painful.

  “No. Don’t stop,” she panted.

  Gods, he’d gotten the spoiled little brat to beg. Well that gave him a nice bit of hope he didn’t have the previous eve.

  “Sorry, Princess,” he gasped out. He wondered if she had any idea that no female, dragon or human, had ever made him this desperate before. “My family awaits. And unless you’d like an audience for this, I suggest we go.”