by Celia Kyle
“I woke as Charlie sought to heal me.” He did not deserve to touch her, but that did not mean he would stop.
Especially not when the delicate notes of her arousal teased his nose. That scent triggered other reactions in his body—those that an honorable male would fight.
Each day in Elle’s presence made him believe he was not so honorable. She made him crave impossible things. Ivoth was a starving male, desperate for the smallest taste… of her. The kiss on the balcony had not sated his desire but instead stoked the flames of his need. Even at that moment, his wred—cock—hardened and lengthened against the cushioned bench. He was thankful he’d shed his katoth pants before settling in for sleep. A hard shaft held firmly in tanned hide was not comfortable. He had learned that since meeting Elle.
Elle’s palm slid over the back of his hand, and he tensed and waited for her to shove him away. But she did not. Instead, she turned her head slightly and nuzzled him, breathing deep like… like a female Preor who sought their mate’s scent.
Are.
Ivoth ignored the quasti, unwilling to allow any shred of hope to creep into his dragon’s heart.
“I don’t think he’s ever healed anyone other than me or Ben.” She whispered the words, and her lips ghosted over his scarred flesh. His cock throbbed, aching and hard for her. “How are you feeling?”
His voice was equally soft, husky but not in an effort to match her. Her closeness made him lose all speech. “Well. I was well when I laid to rest. I did not require his healing.”
Charlie snorted. Ivoth ignored the pesky beast.
“Uh-huh. Let’s look at your back then.” Her eyes remained on his, and her lips continued to brush his skin with each word. And then, before she left him, one last caress came.
A true kiss—one that sent a shudder through him, and he stifled the moan that grew in his chest. Did she realize how she teased him so?
Elle pulled away, and it took all his strength not to demand she remain in place, remain in reach and touching him. Honorable males wouldn’t make such demands.
Had he not decided he was not honorable?
“Come on, you. Let’s see what you did last night, huh?” The pricking nails left his wing base, and a motion to his right drew his gaze. Charlie dropped to the ground and then darted up the couch, sprinting over the furniture and racing across the space to Elle’s sleeping chamber.
Ivoth expected the quasti to disappear, but Charlie paused, the beast’s eyes on Ivoth’s.
F-am.
He was prepared to deny Charlie once more, but a fluttering sensation stole his breath. Not a flutter, a caress. The whisper-soft stroke of Elle’s hands over the flesh between his wings—the long, delicate fingers exploring his recently damaged skin and scales, teasing the area with her light touch.
“Some of the scarring is gone,” she murmured, and something tickled the edge of his wing.
Not Elle’s hands, but… It moved away and then down, dancing over his wing skin. It tormented him with the occasional stroke of his flight lines. His cock pulsed with each touch, throbbing with the rapid beat of his heart. The teasing drove him to near madness, the need to find release overwhelming him with every delicate graze.
When her fingers replaced the torturous feather-light contact, giving him the connection he craved, he could hold himself still no longer. He was only a male, not Syh.
He gripped the base of the bench, fingers curling around the legs, and rocked his hips, searching for the friction he needed. The smooth fabric was slick and cool on the sensitive skin of his shaft, teasing him without sating his desires. His desires for Elle. To fill her. To claim her. To coat her in his scent so that even if she found her mate, the male would know—
Elle’s next touch was an intentional taunting, fingers beginning at the upper wing joint and traveling along his flight line until she nearly reached the very tip of his wing.
“Elle,” he rasped, arousal and need practically stealing his voice. “Please.”
Ivoth did not know what he begged for. For her to stop? To continue? To…
Elle merely hummed, a single curious sound, but her attentions did not cease.
Did she not realize the torment she caused?
She repeated the actions on his other wing, fingers on scales and flesh, exploring his flight lines in a way that nearly had him spilling himself on the bench. If she continued… he would disgrace himself. But he would not hate himself for finding pleasure at her touch without her permission. Not when it would grant one of his strongest wishes.
“Elle, you must…”
She drew circles around his largest wing joint, and each stroke went straight to his cock. In his mind, she encircled his dick, pumping his thick length over and over again. He wished it were true, that he had her spread beneath him with her legs splayed, with her wet thasiq flushed and open to him.
“Ivoth…” Her warm breath teased the back of his neck, and her torturous attentions did not cease. “You kissed me yesterday.”
He wanted to kiss her until he took his final flight.
“Yes,” he rasped, unable to do much more. His hips rocked again, body no longer listening to his mind and now moving on instinct.
“Why?” Her plump lips teased the top of his spine, the dampness leaving a cool trail on his back.
“Could… Not…” Two hands stroked the space between his wings and he gasped, rolling his hips and rubbing his cock on the smooth fabric. “Stop…” His mind had not been his own at that moment. Even now, his mind threatened to leave him entirely—leave him so that he could turn and take what he desired from Elle. “Need.” Needed then. Needed at that moment. “Must… stop…”
She was not a female to be bought. She was not a female to be toyed with. She was…
“What if… What if I don’t want to stop?”
She would send him to Syh as surely as diving into the Gulf of Mexico.
“Elle,” he rumbled her name, dragon’s breath escaping his nose.
All touch vanished and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he waged a battle inside his own mind. He could turn and take her, demand she continue her attentions. Or he could remain motionless and gather what little control remained inside him.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want—”
Ivoth would not allow her to doubt herself—or him. He released the bench, tucked his wings close, and whirled on the cushioned surface in one smooth move. He sought Elle’s gaze, searching her expression, and was relieved to find that her desire matched his own. Her pupils were so wide, they nearly swallowed all color in her eyes. A light flush stained her cheeks, and the change in position allowed him to breathe deeper. It allowed him to gather more of her alluring scent.
“I crave you.” More dragon’s breath escaped his nose, and no matter what, he could not keep the beast at bay. “I have desired you from the moment you smiled, and I do not believe I will ever stop longing to join with you.”
She licked her lips, those dark eyes leaving his and traveling down his body. She caressed him with her stare, stroking his chest, his stomach, and finally… Finally his cock. He was hot and hard, the covering gone and baring him to the room—to Elle.
“You see the proof, shaa kava.” The endearment leapt to his lips without thought, the words out before he could consider their meaning.
But he would not draw them back.
“What…” She took a step nearer, giving him more of her delicious scent.
The only way he managed to stop himself from reaching for her was to curl his hands into fists. He had to resist. He had to. “It is…” He sought an accurate explanation but found his knowledge lacking.
Because he had not experienced the Knowing with Elle.
“Ivoth?”
“Heart partner.”
“And I’m…” Her thigh brushed his hip, and he knew Syh would come for him at any moment.
“You hold a place in my heart. I would give—” He would give much, but he wou
ld not give up the vow he made to his sire, just as he would not use her when they had no future. “You should return to your sleeping chamber, Elle. I will gain control of myself once you are gone.”
He hoped.
“What if I don’t want to?” The question came out with a breathy sigh, and Ivoth’s cock twitched.
Damn the stars, she aroused him by simply breathing, and he scrambled for the last hints of his honor. No matter his feelings, he would not toy with her emotions and take her when he could not give her everything she deserved.
“Elle, I beg you…” His plea turned into a deep moan, her small hand suddenly encircling his shaft. She stroked him from base to tip, squeezing and tightening, and he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure.
Just for a moment, he told himself. I will stop her in a moment, he tried again.
But her attentions were too much. The jolts of pleasure encircled his body, wrapping around his cock and cupping his balls. Her hand slid up and down his length, her movements only pausing when she stopped to gather some of the syha’i that escaped the tip of his dick. She rubbed her thumb around the slit, rubbing his seed over the crown.
Ivoth arched into her motions, meeting her strokes and fekhing her hand. It was not as pleasurable as being inside her, but he would accept whatever she gifted him. “Elle… Need…”
So badly. So desperately. He would explode and coat her in his release if she did not cease, and he did not have the strength to tell her to stop. She was his shaa kava, and he craved a connection to her more than he needed his next breath.
“Me, too.” She pulled her hand away, and he whimpered like a dragonlet robbed of its favorite treat, only to moan once more when she tugged up her long shirt and lifted one leg to straddle him. The movement exposed her thasiq to his gaze and he groaned. So wet and pink, flushed and prepared for him, just as he’d imagined.
She knelt on the bench, her knees resting on the soft surface, her pussy so close to his cock. He lifted his head and stared at the space between them, at the small emptiness that separated their bodies. A mere flex of his hips and his length would caress her most intimate place. Another shift of his body and he’d be deep inside her.
“Shaa kava,” he murmured, reveling in the sound of the endearment on his lips. “Shaa kava…” His blood heated, dragon’s breath filled the air, and he knew the beast ached for him to claim Elle, as well. “I need—”
“To rise. You have an appointment at the choosing station so you may continue to search for your mate.” The rough voice was familiar; the scorching heat of rage was not.
As quickly as his arousal rose, it now vanished with those words. His cock softened, and all hints of need fled his blood.
Something—someone—also fled. Elle. She scrambled from his lap, the flavors of her arousal turning sour with the presence of her fear and embarrassment. Ivoth’s first instinct was to bash the encroaching male’s head against the wall.
His second was the same.
Ivoth rose to sit on the bench and reached for the discarded blanket. He wrapped it around his hips as he gained his feet and squared off against the Syh blue warrior before him. The warrior who clutched his war blades. “Triem sen Chor’li. You have a reason for entering Officer Elle’s dwelling without permission?”
Blue eyes bled yellow and red, pale scales sliding into place while the younger male continued to glare at him. “I believed, Ivoth Pezet’li, you and Elle were in need of assistance. No one granted me entrance when I comm’ed. I thought only of protecting a beloved friend of the Preor.”
Elle… beloved friend of the Preor… The younger male sought to remind Ivoth that she was one not to be toyed with. As if he could forget.
“As you witnessed, Elle is not in need of your assistance.” Perhaps Ivoth’s, though. His cock had softened, but the bubbling desire continued to slither through his blood.
“You have…” Triem stepped forward, his grip on his war blades tightening until his knuckles turned white.
Ivoth scanned his surroundings, searching for a weapon should the warrior lose all semblance of control. He was young still, younger than most, and his hold on his dragon was not as strong as others.
“Triem.” The delicate, feminine voice held a coating of anxiety and nerves, yet he could still hear her smile in the single syllable. “You can put your knives away. I’m fine.”
He turned in time to see Elle breeze into the room, a smile gracing her lips as he predicted. Yet it was not one that reached her eyes. It was not a real smile, and he realized he did not like her fake smiles.
“They are not knives, Elle,” Triem grumbled and slid one and then the other blade away. “You are…” The young warrior glared at Ivoth and then refocused on Elle. “You are well?”
An alluring blush teased her cheeks, but her expression didn’t change. “I’m perfectly fine. Did you come by for breakfast? Are you going to escort Ivoth to medical? Charlie…”
Her voice trailed off when Triem shook his head. “No, I have come to relieve Ivoth and take his place. He has an appointment at Preor Choosing Station Tau, and then I am certain Argan and Radoo will escort him to medical.”
The fury in Triem’s eyes told Ivoth he would be in desperate need of medical attention once Argan and Radoo were finished with him.
“Preor Choosing Station Tau?” She whispered the words, her gaze slowly panning to his. “You’re still going…”
“Ivoth Pezet’li is in search of a mate so that he can fulfill his solemn vow to his sire.” Triem gave him another reminder of Ivoth’s promise. “We are both ‘li. We are the last of our lines. Ivoth swore to his sire—as I did to mine—that he would not allow their line to end. He would find a mate and sire many dragonlets. He would no longer be a ‘li. To fulfill the vow, we must both find our mates. Dragonlets can only be conceived by mates.”
“I…” what little remained of her smile fled, and she took a retreating step toward her sleeping chamber, “see.”
Silence encased them, the heavy quiet growing until it strangled Ivoth with its mass—until Argan, Radoo, and Brukr arrived to shatter the oppressive walls.
“Ivoth?” Argan was the first through the entry. “Triem comm’ed—”
“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” Her feigned smile was back, but he could still sense her pain, the agony that stretched to the depths of her soul. “Ivoth and I got a little distracted,” her face reddened, “but it’s all okay.” She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t meet his gaze, and hid her face from his. “Ivoth has an appointment to search for his mate, so I’m ready whenever you guys are. I’ve got a lot of work to get through today, and I’d like to get an early start.” She turned, eyes downcast and skirting his stare as she looked to the sleeping chamber. “Charlie? Ready?”
The quasti bounded into the room, its image shimmering as it wavered between visible and not. Halfway to Elle, he froze and came fully into sight. He glared at Ivoth, as if the beast could read Elle’s mind and knew what he’d done—nearly done.
Can see.
Not f-am.
CharlemKle’phi-juwee r-ong.
Ivoth was not sure what hurt the most, the sight of a single tear trailing down Elle’s cheek or the knowledge that he would never be alone with her again.
Triem would not allow it.
The others—once they knew what he’d done—would not either.
Once more, he would be alone.
12
So she’d had what she wanted for all of five minutes. Five heart-wrenching, glorious, soul-crushing minutes.
Shaa kava…
The way he’d murmured those words, the huskiness of his tone and the dark promise in each syllable… It’d pushed her beyond common sense.
Because of course he’d go look for his mate, shaa kava or no. Elle was a heart partner, whatever that meant, not a mate. And a mate was what every single Preor wanted. And he was a ‘li. He’d made a promise that he’d never revealed to her, and she’d let her st
upid, idiotic self fall for him, hadn’t she?
Her eyes stung and she blinked back her furious tears. She refused to admit she felt more heartache than anger. She refused to admit that tears made her eyes burn. There had to be something in the air.
Davenports didn’t cry.
Elle strode down the wide hallways of Preor Tower, leaving the warriors to follow her—or not. She just couldn’t be in Ivoth’s presence any longer. She couldn’t have his body so close, his scent filling her lungs. Not after nearly—
She broke off that train of thought. No point in going back there.
The ground vibrated, the pounding thud of the massive males jogging to catch up to her reverberating through her body.
“Officer—” Triem called out to her and she paused, squeezing her eyes shut tight in the hope of making the moisture disappear. She wouldn’t appear weak in front of them—in front of anyone.
She stopped and turned, pulling her lips into that practiced smile she hated more than anything. “Triem,” she chided. “How many times have I told you to call me Elle?” She leaned to the side and looked past Triem, searching for the others. “Where’s the rest of the team? Or is it just you and me, today?”
Her cheeks hurt, muscles straining to keep the stiff grin in place. It hit her why those muscles got so sore, so quickly. She’d only enjoyed real smiles since beginning her work with Delaney and the Preor. The feigned happiness was the old Elle. New Elle had happiness in her life.
Not n-ow. The grumbled, stilted voice drifted through her mind. It was followed by a brief flash of the quasti’s fantasy of attacking Ivoth and turning him into mush with a single shout.
For a moment, a split second, she indulged in the same fantasy. But that wasn’t what she wanted either. Not when her heart…
Triem slowed as he approached, a pale blush staining his tanned cheeks and his eyebrows pulled together, a grimace on his lips—a combination of embarrassment and confusion. It’d be adorable if his embarrassment wasn’t intimately linked to her.
“The others will be with us shortly. Argan and Radoo are assisting Ivoth.”