Dragon Actually dk-1

by G. A. Aiken

  Her release hit with brutal swiftness, tearing through Rhiannon’s entire body the way the Magick had, only this time no pain. Just pleasure. Wonderful pleasure.

  Panting and trying to focus, she realized Bercelak had come inside her and now lay collapsed atop her.

  That’s when she had to admit—at least to herself—that it didn’t feel too bad to have him there.

  “Rhiannon?” It felt like ages until he could get up enough energy to say that. But when she didn’t answer him, Bercelak became seriously concerned. Scared he may have accidentally hurt her, he pushed himself up on one elbow, looking down at her.

  “Rhiannon?” he said again, louder.

  “Mhmmm?”

  She sounded sated.

  Bercelak couldn’t help but smile. It felt nice to smile. “Are you all right?”

  Slowly, her eyes opened, staring at him in wonder. Then, just as quickly, her eyebrows pulled down into a brutal frown. “This changes nothing, Low Born.”

  Bercelak laughed out loud and that felt even better than smiling. “Sorry, Princess. This changes everything. And we both know it.”

  Growling, she tried to pull away from him, but he caught hold of her waist.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Let me go.”

  “No. I want to talk first.”

  “Talk?” She looked absolutely horrified at the idea.

  “Aye. Talk. Make sure we are both clear on a few things.” She relaxed back, but watched him warily. “Clear on what things?”

  “The next full moon is in four days. At that time I’ll Claim you.”

  “Wait—”

  “No. I won’t wait, Rhiannon. You’re mine as I am yours. Nothing will change that.”

  Angry, she pulled away from him, scrambling across the bed. “This isn’t fair. It was the Magick . . . it changed . . .”

  He shook his head. “Try another tack, Princess. I won’t believe the Magick made you, of all dragons, do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “But—”

  Frustrated, he barked, “No! No more excuses. No more denials.” He pulled his body up and, on all fours, moved toward her.

  Eyes wide, Rhiannon moved back away from him. The bed was big, but it wasn’t that big.

  Her back leg slid off the bed, almost tumbling her onto the floor. But Bercelak grasped tight hold of her wrist.

  “Wait—”

  He ignored her plea, yanking her onto the bed.

  As he placed his body over hers, she snarled, “I’ll never love you, Low Born! Never!”

  His heart stuttered to a stop. He wanted her love. Needed it, even. This wasn’t about taking a royal as his mate. This was about Rhiannon and only Rhiannon. He’d loved her since he saw her and, he had admitted to himself years ago, he would always love her. No female would ever compare with her. And now that he’d actually been inside her, had actually heard her cries of passion and felt her lust, he wanted no other female in his arms. Only Rhiannon. Always Rhiannon.

  But from what he knew of his Rhiannon, no “sensitive” male would ever live in her bed . . . own her bed. So, the side that wished to care for her—that wanted to make her laugh as well as see her smile—he pushed aside. He would bury it until he’d Claimed her. Even if he missed the next full moon, he’d only Claim Rhiannon if she loved him. Nothing was worse than being with someone who didn’t love you and never would. Dragons lived many years and that was too long to live without a true mate to care for you.

  So he buried the part of him that cared and brought out the warrior. The merciless battle-dragon who had destroyed more dragon kingdoms then he could remember.

  He dug his hand into her hair and snatched her head back. One of her hands reached up and gripped his shoulder, trying to push him off.

  “Perhaps we should understand each other, Princess. I will have you. I will make you mine until the end of time. Challenge me if you wish, but you’ll lose in this battle. I promise that you’ll lose.”

  Clear blue eyes glared at him but he also saw the heat in them. With her hatred came her lust. Just as he knew it would.

  He pulled her head back a little farther and the hand on his shoulder dug into his flesh.

  “I think it’s time you understand how things will work between us, Princess. I think it’s time I show you.”

  Bercelak banged on his older brother’s door again. Finally, Addolgar pulled the heavy oak door open.

  “What?”

  “I need your chains, brother.”

  Addolgar stared at him for several long seconds. “Should I ask why?” he finally said.

  “No.”

  “The cuffs only, or the collar as well?”

  “All of it.”

  With a shrug, Addolgar went back into his room. He heard his brother speaking to his mate. Bercelak shook his head when he heard her snap, “Where do you think you’re going with our chains?”

  “It’s for a good cause,” Addolgar said over his shoulder as he handed the chains to his kin. “It’s brought me luck, brother. Perhaps it will work the same for you.”

  He fucked me to sleep, she thought as she forced herself awake. The suns showed brightly through the narrow windows and she knew it was late in the morning.

  The last thing she remembered at all was him bathing her, against her muttered protests, in fact.

  Rhiannon shook her head to clear her exhausted mind, but the sounds of heavy chains froze her. She went to touch her throat, but her hands would only move so far. She turned her head and saw that metal cuffs held her wrists, the chain tightened so her arms didn’t stray too far from the headboard. She couldn’t see or touch the collar around her neck, but she felt it well enough. Heavy metal weighing down on her shoulders. Even her feet were shackled, the chains securely locked to the end board.

  “Bastard!”

  “Oh, good. You’re awake.”

  “Release me! Now!”

  He smiled and she took very little comfort from it. “I think not. I like having you at my disposal. All wet and ready to fuck when I so choose.”

  She’d spit at him if he were any closer. Especially when she felt her body respond so immediately. Her nipples peaked and wetness seeped from between her legs. He saw it, too, and his grin grew wider.

  She fought the chains again. “I’ll scream for help.”

  “I wouldn’t bother. Remember whose family this is. Ailean the Wicked. Somehow he managed to woo my mother who, I’ve been told, tried to kill him more than once before their Claiming. So, I seriously doubt he’ll find this such an extreme form of courtship.”

  “I am a princess,” she argued, “you can’t treat me—”

  “You are a princess,” he cut in. “A beautiful princess who belongs to me.”

  He finally walked over to her and she stared hard at the human body before her. Gods, why did he have to be so beautiful?

  “Tell me you’re mine, Rhiannon, and I’ll let you go.”

  Angry and lustful all in one turn, Rhiannon turned her face away.

  “Tell me, Rhiannon.” His fingers slid up her calf, teasing the skin with just the tips of his fingers. “Tell me”—fingers slid between her thighs, soft kisses followed—“or I’ll be forced to get it out of you . . . somehow.”

  She shuddered and, to her shame, it wasn’t from fear or anger. But lust. Her weakness sickened her. How could she ever hope to be queen, when she couldn’t even tell this bastard “no”?

  Kisses turned to licks that trailed over her sex and across her lower belly.

  “Such simple words, Rhiannon. ‘I belong to you, Bercelak.’ Say them and let’s be done with all this.”

  As she turned her neck, the collar bit into her flesh a bit. She closed her eyes in horror when she realized how much she liked it.

  “I won’t,” she choked out, while his tongue was teasing the very tip of her nipple. “I won’t say it.”

  “Fine. Then I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He pulled a
way from her and she briefly wondered what the “hard way” was? She couldn’t imagine Bercelak hurting her.

  At least not without some proper begging involved. He stretched out beside her, his head in her lap. She watched through narrowed eyes as he kissed her sex, his tongue pushing in to tease her clit the tiniest bit.

  She groaned, her eyes closing and her body tightening. Then he stopped, pulled back and blew on her. Gently.

  Her eyes snapped open and he gave her that gorgeous smile. For someone who rarely smiled, he seemed to be doing it a lot all of a sudden. Because of her?

  “Give me what I want, Rhiannon, and I’ll give you what you want.”

  Refusing to speak, she shook her head. The collar, warm from her body heat, felt wonderful resting against her flesh.

  “As you wish.” He leaned down and began teasing her again. Growling, she looked away, only to see his engorged cock bobbing there, Bercelak’s hand gripping it firmly, stroking it slowly.

  Unable to stop herself, she growled with wanting and Bercelak’s mouth stopped moving. He lifted his head and looked at her. They stared at each other for several long moments, then Rhiannon licked her lips.

  Bercelak groaned and growled all at the same time while he easily pushed himself up until he rested on his knees. He moved toward her, his cock leading the way. She no longer looked at him, but at it.

  Straddling her chest, Bercelak slid his hand behind her neck and gently lifted her head up. She opened her mouth and he slid his cock inside her. They both closed their eyes with a moan as Rhiannon sucked on him, loving the way his body shook as she took possession of him.

  “Gods, Rhiannon,” he whispered. “Gods that feels good.”

  She thought about torturing him the way he’d been torturing her, but she didn’t want to. She liked having his big cock in her mouth. She liked having him over her. She felt no fear, no sense of dread, wondering when he’d prove what a bastard he was. So she sucked and she licked.

  His hands tightened in her hair, holding her head still as his cock moved in and out of her mouth as he neared release. Finally, he pushed into her one last time. She nearly gagged as his seed filled her mouth, bursting into the back of her throat. But she swallowed it and sucked until he pulled away from her and dropped down on the bed.

  Feeling smug, she licked her lips again and watched him panting, a light sheen of sweat over his body.

  Now he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Now he’d rip these chains off her and fuck her until they both passed out.

  That’s what she waited for. And she kept waiting.

  Eventually, Bercelak gave one big satisfied sigh, then leaned back against the bed, his hands behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles. The legs currently resting by her head.

  He looked up at the ceiling. “So which would you prefer, Rhiannon? A male hatchling first? Or a female?”

  Her eyes widened in annoyance. “Wha-what?”

  “For our first. Male or female? I like the idea of a female. I’ve always wanted a daughter.” He smiled at her and it was the warmest smile anyone had ever given her. “I want her to look like you.” Then his eyes returned to the ceiling as if he could see their entire future—their entire future together—playing out above their heads. “But a male offspring would also be nice, too, don’t you think? He could take care of his younger siblings. Now I don’t think we have to have as many as my parents. Fifteen is excessive, but . . . definitely more than two or three, don’t you think?”

  Unable to look at him anymore without screaming, Rhiannon stared out the window and debated the logic of flinging herself from the ledge . . . after he released her, of course.

  With a pathetic roll of her eyes, Rhiannon sighed but it came out more like a sob.

  Chapter 7

  He finally released her arms and legs, and allowed her enough chain to get to the chamber pot and the bath. Other than that, he kept her tied to the bed for the remainder of the day and well into the night.

  Rhiannon really wished she could say she hated him. Hating him would make this so easy. She would promise him whatever he asked, wait until he untied her, and then she’d cut his currently human throat with a jagged piece of glass . . . or simply rip his throat out with her teeth. Whatever was convenient.

  But she didn’t hate him. And she hated herself for not hating him.

  Pathetic female.

  She yanked her chain again. When Bercelak decided to leave her alone for a bit, he quickly realized that the headboard wouldn’t last two seconds against her strength and rage. So he wrapped the chain around a pillar and locked it. With an annoyingly happy smile, he kissed her on the cheek with promises of returning and walked out.

  That had been nearly an hour ago and he still had not returned.

  A soft knock at the door had her grabbing an animal fur from the floor and wrapping it around her body since these human servants reacted so dramatically to any kind of nakedness. Why they would react that way over their own bodies with someone they didn’t lust for, she had no idea.

  “Come.” Might as well since clearly she wouldn’t be for quite awhile.

  The door pushed open and Ghleanna and Shalin walked in. Gleanna held a tray of food, the smell bringing Rhiannon’s stomach to growling life, and her mother followed with a goblet and decanter.

  Rhiannon prayed that was wine she had with her, because she needed to numb her brain before she began destroying things around her for her own amusement.

  “We thought you might be hungry.”

  “I’d like the key even more.”

  The two females looked at each other but, not surprisingly, it was Ghleanna who spoke, “You’ve lost your mind, Princess, if you think we’re about to get between you and my brother on this.”

  “Fine!”

  She turned, the chain winding around her throat, and stalked back across the room.

  “Now, now,” Bercelak’s mother soothed. “No need to get angry. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

  “Your son is unreasonable.”

  “My son is in love.”

  At Shalin’s words, Rhiannon spun around, but the chain pulled tight around her throat, snapping her head back.

  “Ack!”

  Bercelak watched one of his younger brothers pass out and drop to the floor. All that wine . . . he should have known better. His father’s wine could kill an elephant.

  His father’s hand slapped him on the back. Anyone else, even dragon, would go flying. But all of Ailean’s children learned to have sturdy backs and good balance.

  “Don’t worry, son. You’ll break her.”

  Rolling his eyes, “I don’t want to break her. If I wanted that, I’d have chosen one of those insipid royals.”

  “But you didn’t choose her,” his brother Caerwyn felt the need to say.

  “Her mother may have thrown her to me, but I’d chosen Rhiannon long ago. Everything I’ve done, every battle I’ve won, every rank I’ve earned has been for her. To be worthy of her.”

  “You are worthy of her.” His father sat down in a chair, putting his feet up on the table. “You’re my son.”

  “Oh, yes. That’s been quite helpful.”

  His brothers and two of his hard-drinking sisters laughed in agreement, but his father looked at his brood in confusion.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Come on. You can’t tell me you don’t know. Your name follows us around like the stink on a dog.”

  “Everyone knows you, father,” one of his sisters offered up. “And what they know isn’t good.”

  His father, always jovial and smiling, looked suddenly angry. “So you’re saying . . .”

  “That you’re an embarrassment? Yes.” Bercelak didn’t mean to be cruel, but he wondered if his time with Rhiannon wouldn’t have been a tad easier if his father hadn’t been known throughout Dark Plains as Ailean the Slag.

  “I’m still your father, boy! So watch how you speak to me! It’s not my fault you can’t get
the little bitch to submit. Perhaps if you were more like me, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

  If it hadn’t been for his siblings grabbing hold of him, Bercelak would have torn the old bastard apart.

  “Oh, I tried to kill him twice. Almost succeeded that one time.” Rhiannon watched as Bercelak’s sweet mother made a line across her throat with one finger. “Sliced his throat from here to here. But he shifted to dragon before I could finish. His scales prevented him from bleeding to death.”

  Rhiannon glanced at Ghleanna, who looked bored and unimpressed. “Why . . . that’s a lovely tale, mistress.”

  “No. It’s not. But it is to say that the males of this brood are not looking for shy, retiring mates. The more you fight my son, the more he wants you. After I cut Ailean’s throat, he Claimed me one moon later.”

  “Do you . . .” Rhiannon looked away from Shalin’s steady gaze.

  “Do I what?”

  “Well . . . ever regret being with him?”

  Shalin leaned back in her chair, a soft smile on her lips. “No. I’ve never regretted being with him and I can’t even imagine my life without him. I do, however, regret how hard his reputation is on our offspring.”

  Ghleanna snorted as she stared out the window. “That’s a bit of an understatement.” She looked at Rhiannon. “Where my brothers have done well by our father’s reputation, his female offspring have not. I’ve beaten more than my fair share of dragons nearly to death who thought I was some kind of whore they could treat as they liked.”

  “Now she sees no one.”

  “I won’t be treated like trash, mother. I love my father . . . with all my heart, but there’s not a day that goes by that I forget I’m the daughter of Ailean the Wicked.”

  “Your father has done the best for his offspring, Ghleanna. You included. Between you and me, you are one of his favorites. It would hurt him to know this was how you feel.”

  “And it hurts me to be alone. And yet, we all must endure.”

  If she’d not been chained to the spot, Rhiannon would have left mother and daughter to finish this discussion on their own. If for no other reason than that she felt a bit jealous. A very large bit jealous. Her arguments with her mother were nothing like these. If it hadn’t been for the protection of her father, Addiena probably would have killed her long ago. That was why every new moon she sent a prayer to the gods in honor of her father. Because he above all others loved her.