by Amy Sumida
“Isn't that a good thing?”
“No,” he snarled. “If you had been unaffected, that would have been a good thing. But you looked away to keep from being further affected.”
“Oh, sweet Danu!” I huffed, flung my arms down, and headed into the open bedroom.
The suite was elegant, as I expected for the price, and the room had a view of the Arch that was far better than the one in the restaurant. I drew the curtains closed over that great view as Raza shut the bedroom door. Then I walked past him, going for the bathroom. Raza grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop.
“Tell me that I have nothing to worry about,” he demanded.
“You have nothing to worry about. I'm not interested in Drostan.”
“But you're attracted to him,” he concluded.
Sheesh, first Tiernan and now, Raza. It was getting annoying.
“Attraction happens.” I shrugged. “I can't control that. But it has nothing to do with love and I'm not interested in being with any man who I don't love. Okay?”
Raza let out a long breath. “Okay.”
“Was it because of what I said about Anu?”
“Perhaps,” he admitted.
“If Drostan can help us, that would be a good thing,” I said gently. “I just have a feeling that he's important to this case in some way.”
“He sells lightning rods,” Raza huffed. “How could he possibly help us?”
“I don't know. Maybe staying in his home might bring us into contact with other people who could help us.” I shrugged. “You know how Anu works. I don't think we should discount him yet.” I grabbed Raza's belt and pulled him closer. “Now, can we stop talking about Drostan?”
Raza grinned wickedly and shrugged out of his jacket. I started undressing as well—not hurriedly but not slowly either. The perfect speed for tantalizing a dragon. When we were both naked, he reached for me but I stepped back.
Raza scowled.
“I want the real you,” I said breathlessly. “Bring back my Raza.”
Raza grinned again as the shift came over him. His skin darkened to an exquisite sin-black, his eyes brightened to metallic gold, the bones of his face sharpened, claws extended from his hands, and a pair of the most glorious, leathery wings sprung forth from his back—their joints tipped in claws and their membranes gleaming with crimson highlights. I sighed in delight.
“There you are,” I whispered and slid up against all of that hard, ebony body.
Raza made a growling sound of pleasure as I moved my hands over his broad shoulders and then down his chest to his trim waist. His shaft had hardened while I stripped but now it was a beautiful black with a ruby tip. A bead of moisture gathered on that tip, making it glisten as I took him in hand. Raza's head fell back on a groan as I began to stroke him. Then I went to my knees and took him into my mouth.
“Mo shíorghrá,” Raza growled, his hand slipping carefully over my head—deadly claws parting my tresses until they scraped the nape of my neck.
Raza's scent—sweet and smoky like apple cider or marshmallows roasted over a campfire—rose around me. That thick shaft slid over my tongue, his essence tasting a little like his scent. I relaxed my throat and moved forward until my face was pressed against his pelvis and that lovely bony protrusion, just above his cock, dented my nose. Raza made a strangled sound, pushed on the back of my head, and pressed himself even further inside me. I held him there a second and then drew back, sucking down his length.
I began a smooth rhythm, using one hand to work his shaft along with my mouth and the other to massage the heavy sacs beneath. I rolled them within their dark, velvety case and then slid a finger beyond them to tease that other place. Raza went tense and looked down at me in surprise.
“Just relax. You might like it,” I purred, feeling very naughty.
“I will not,” he said firmly.
I gave his puckered hole a little push.
“Seren!” Raza jerked back.
“You do it to me,” I reasoned.
“You're a woman.”
“Not every woman likes that.”
“But you do.”
“And I thought you might like just a little—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Raza snarled.
“Men enjoy it because—”
“No,” he said firmly.
“Okay, okay.” I laughed and stood up. “No means no.”
“You didn't have to stop all the rest,” he said a little petulantly.
“The mood is ruined.” I sighed dramatically and pulled back the bed covers. “I think I'll just go to sleep.”
Raza growled as he rushed forward and grabbed my waist. He lifted me and tossed me onto the bed as he simultaneously spun me around so that I landed on my back. His wings whooshed open as he jumped onto the mattress beside me, their dark expanse framing his magnificent body. Raza's eyes went molten as he pushed my legs apart and settled his body between them. All laughter left me as I opened my arms to my husband and pulled him close.
Raza's mouth met mine in a searing kiss and his wings came together above him, softening the light and making it feel as if we were in a private sanctuary where only he and I existed. While our tongues slashed and lips pressed together tightly, his shaft nudged at my opening below. I reached between us to guide him inside and then we both groaned together in bliss. A few gentle pumps and Raza was seated deep inside me, coated in my pleasure. He rocked his hips in a hypnotizing tempo and that Dragon-Djinn pelvis bone pushed against my most sensitive spot, grinding it into ecstasy. I bent my knees and lifted myself to meet his thrusts as I clung to his shoulders.
“Mo shíorghrá,” Raza murmured as he drew out of our kiss, “your body holds me so tightly. Drawing me deeper. I feel as if I'm falling into you.”
“Fall faster, baby,” I said breathlessly.
Raza made a rumbling growl and sped up until the sound of slapping flesh became a drumbeat in my ears. Rapture rose and tightened my sheath around him, drawing another cry from my dragon. But he didn't slow down. I was so wet that his cock moved like polished stone inside me. And he was right, it did feel as if he were falling into me. Diving into my body and soul. Merging our hearts and breath and blood. I panted and pulled him closer.
“Seren,” Raza said in an urgent tone.
“Nearly there.”
Raza groaned.
“Nearly there,” I said again and then started to scream.
Raza gave one last shove and roared, filling me with warmth and life and love. The sound was a true roar, not merely a primal shout, and it vibrated through my body as he pulsed inside me. The roar faded into a rumble of contentment and his wings vanished. Raza rolled onto his side and tucked me in against his chest. The sudden silence of the night felt heavy.
“I think you may have just terrified the entire block,” I murmured against his chest.
“If they didn't recognize it as an expression of immense pleasure, then they should be afraid,” Raza said sleepily.
I snorted. “I hate to break it to you, honey, but that is not a normal sound of pleasure, immense or otherwise.”
“No?” He cracked one eye open to peer at me.
“No. You are unique in all ways.”
“That, I knew,” he said smugly. “But I'm glad to hear you say it.”
“Cocky dragon,” I chided.
“If you insist.” Raza rolled me onto my back again.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, I thought that was a request.”
“It was an observation.” I pushed him off me and rolled onto my side again, this time facing away from him. “Goodnight, Dragon.”
“I don't think so, mo shíorghrá.” Raza lifted my top leg and moved it back, wedging it over his thigh. “You can't ask for my cock and then refuse it.”
His hard shaft nudged me again, still wet with my desire.
“I suppose I must appease my husband's primal needs,” I said with mock reluctance.
&nbs
p; “Just so,” Raza agreed as he took himself in hand and pressed against my back entrance.
“Hey!” I scowled over my shoulder at him.
“You were so intent on breaching me earlier that I assumed you wanted this,” he drawled.
“You ass-umed wrong.”
“Did I?” Raza nuzzled my neck and then nibbled.
I shivered as he pushed gently into that other place.
“You did.” I insisted, even as I pushed back onto him and drew him in deeper.
“Oh, no,” he said in mock dismay. “Then I must ravish you.” Raza shoved deeper as his hand slid forward and moved between my legs.
He started rubbing expertly and I cried out as I impaled myself further upon him.
“Isn't ravishing a woman supposed to be more savage?” I purred.
Raza snarled and rolled me onto my stomach. He yanked me up onto my knees even as he kept us joined together, then shoved my legs further apart. I trembled and writhed against him.
“You want savage, mo shíorghrá? I will give you savage.” Raza grabbed my upper arms and pulled them back.
My upper body lifted from the bed, my breasts jutting forward. Raza used his grip as leverage to pull himself into me. He started slamming viciously, his pelvis slapping my ass, and my head fell forward as I groaned. I felt completely conquered—mated by a beast who most humans believed to be pure myth. His cock claimed me in the most base way, bringing a hot flush to my skin.
Raza crossed my arms behind my back and took both of my wrists in one hand, his talons caging them. I fell forward onto my face and his violent shoves sent my head into the pillow. His free hand grabbed my breast and kneaded—talons retracting just in time to prevent bloodshed. My body began to tremble uncontrollably as Raza sped up. His hand moved down and started to work my sex again. The wet sounds made us both groan. A finger dipped inside me.
“Scream for me again, my beautiful wife,” Raza demanded. “Scream!”
I climaxed in a quivering rush, screaming as he commanded, and Raza pounded into me throughout it. Not until the last shiver left me did he pull out and roar once more, emptying himself across my back in thick, searing streams.
“Poor humans,” I muttered into the pillow. “They're going to have nightmares.”
Chapter Twenty
In the morning, we met our team in the hotel lobby and then headed to Enchanted Addictions. Roma was right, it was in a very classy building with a reception desk in the lobby. The perky receptionist directed us to suite 1603 and waved us toward the elevators.
We had to split up to get into the elevators. After we regrouped on the sixteenth floor, we followed the suite numbers to a door marked “Enchanted Addictions.” Inside, another reception desk, with yet another receptionist, separated the back rooms from the waiting room. No one was waiting. The chairs looked as if they'd never been sat in. A potted palm stood in the corner and the company name hung on the wall behind the desk in big brass letters. The receptionist looked up with a bright smile as we entered, but her smile faded as she took in the size and look of our group.
“May I help you?” The receptionist asked tremulously.
“I'm Detective Williams with the St. Louis Police,” Williams launched into his routine again. “We'd like to speak with Alicia Waterhouse.”
“Ms. Waterhouse doesn't come into the office unless she has a client,” she stammered. “Should I call her?”
“No. But you may give me her number and verify her address for me,” Williams said as he waved the extinguishers down the hallway.
“Hey!” The receptionist, a Latin woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun, stood up angrily. “You can't go back there without my permission or a warrant.”
“Feel free to make a complaint,” Williams said as he went around the desk and pushed on her shoulder until she sat down. “Now, the phone number and address, please.”
The woman started shuffling through a Rolodex as my men and I followed the extinguishers. There were only two rooms that branched off the hallway—one was a meeting room and the other an office. Both were soon full of extinguishers rifling through everything they could find to rifle.
I passed the meeting room and went into the office. As far as offices went, this one was seriously lacking. There was no computer, no files, and no books of any kind—not reading material nor ledgers. A printer stood on a small table against one wall and a tasteful painting hung above it. On the desk, a few pens lounged in a holder near a leather blotter and a lamp stood guard in a corner. Beyond that, the surface was bare. Its drawers held absolutely nothing, not even a paper clip. The room looked like a movie set. Then again, even a movie set would have more props. This was like an office waiting for a new employee to move in.
“This is obviously a front,” I muttered. “We're not going to find anything here.”
“She probably has a laptop that she takes with her,” Killian said. “It's smart not to leave anything behind.”
“And also stupid,” I argued. “There's no proof that this is a legitimate business.”
“Better no proof of legitimacy than evidence to the contrary,” Extinguisher Rick Murdock said.
“True,” I agreed. “Annoying, but true.”
“There's not much to touch, but I'll give it a try,” Killian said as he took a pen from the holder and closed his eyes, tapping into his psychometry.
“Let's give him some space to work,” I said as I waved everyone else out of the room.
Raza, my guards, and I headed back down the hallway. The extinguishers in the meeting room were running sensors over the walls, searching for anything that might be hidden beneath magic or a secret panel. I suppose it was possible that there was a hidden stash but I doubted it. There would be better places to hide things. When we came out of the hallway, Williams was gathering everything on the receptionist's desk and shoving it into a duffel bag. And I mean everything. I lifted a brow at Raza and he nodded in approval.
“Anything back there?” Williams asked us.
“It's a front,” I declared. “Killian is trying to see if he can get something from the stuff in the office and the team is still searching in case there's a hidden safe, but I don't think we're going to find anything.”
The receptionist lifted her chin, obviously expecting my conclusion and prepared for it. A slight smile hovered around her lips.
“Did the address she gave you match the one we had?” I asked Williams.
“Yeah, it's the same.” He grimaced. “Which makes it suspicious.”
“This whole thing is suspicious,” Conri said.
I looked at the smug receptionist and made a decision. “You're coming with us.”
“What?” Her expression fell.
“The second we walk out that door, you're going to call your employer and warn her,” I said. “We can't allow that to happen, Ms...?”
“Mendoza,” she whispered. “I'm Carla Mendoza.”
“Ms. Mendoza, you are in police custody, not under arrest,” Williams assured her. “But if you prove unhelpful, that may change.”
Carla Mendoza started to tremble—just slightly, but it was enough to tell me that even if she didn't know exactly what her employer was up to, she knew it wasn't any good.
“Your cellphone, if you please.” Williams held out his hand.
Carla grudgingly grabbed her purse from the back of her chair, pulled out her cellphone, and handed it to Williams.
“Code?” Williams asked.
“I'm not—” she started to protest.
“Your phone will be searched for any criminal messages between you and your employer,” Williams cut her off. “If you are innocent, I strongly suggest you give me the code.”
“I... uh... it's 3478,” she said weakly.
Williams verified it, then stuck the cellphone in the duffel. “Thank you for your cooperation.
“This place is blank,” Killian said as he came up the hall. “She barely touches anything in here and
what she did touch didn't give me anything we can use.”
“Sloane?” Williams called down the hall.
Extinguisher Lance Sloane came up the corridor. “We got nothing. I told them to wrap it up. You got an address on Waterhouse?”
“Yep. Same one we had,” Williams confirmed. “We can head there now. Let's go, Ms. Mendoza.”
“I'll need to lock up,” she protested.