Touch of a Dragon

by Kim Knox

  Chapter Two

  I should’ve been scared, terrified, but my only thought in the slow-beating seconds was my need to run my hands over him. I wanted the heat of his skin, his mouth, him buried hard and hot inside me. The need was a shock. He was a complete stranger...but the rush of lust was as fierce as it was unexpected.

  “Ah.” The slow exhalation of his breath curved my neck into his touch. His lips brushed my skin, and the tip of his tongue traced the edge of my jaw. “They’ve gone.” Blake lifted his head, and his hand slipped from my mouth. His eyes narrowed. “You’re hurt,” he said, and his thumb hovered over my ear.

  Had he felt nothing—none of the desperate need that still tugged hard at me? His words penetrated. “Hurt?” I touched my earlobe. Pain flashed, and my fingers came away wet. Shit, I hadn’t even felt it.

  “Look at me,” he murmured.

  I sank into his dark gaze, and the pain faded. His hand brushed over the tear, and warmth spread through, healing the skin. With the heat came an unnerving thrum to my blood at his touch. His fingertip traced the shell of my ear in a slow and easy caress. Flesh tightened in a place I was not thinking about.

  “All better.”

  I swallowed, my throat dry. Shock. That explained the sudden and swift rise of desire. I was in shock and had a head injury. “How...how do you do that?”

  He wet his lips. I pulled in a breath and fought the hot pulse of need. His gaze narrowed. “What I did, it pushed fast through you.” Hunger sparked in his gaze, and the savage heat of it spiralled want in my blood. “I suppose that’s a good thing.”

  He stepped back, and I wanted to be grateful that his muscled strength no longer pinned me to the wall. I wanted to feel that. It didn’t happen. Chill air whipped between us. Blake tilted his head, and a dark smile touched his firm lips.

  “And after all, time is short.”

  He gripped my arms and turned me to the wall. “What...?”

  The long length of his body pushed me hard against it. His lips touched my ear, his breath hot and even. Heat curled low in my belly, and fuck it, I could feel the press of his erection against my arse. “Healing you has accelerated events.”

  “Events?”

  The word was little more than a squeak as his large hands shaped my hips. His thumbs teased the band of my trousers, playing against the sliver of exposed skin he found on either side of my spine. He slipped under the material, and my hands curled into fists, pressing against the rough brick of the wall. This wasn’t happening. I was not being felt up by a stranger and didn’t ache for his hands to do more than play my skin. “This is insane.”

  “It’s necessary.”

  Blake’s fingers dipped over my hips, the heat of his touch against my bare flesh forcing a gasp. He pushed the thick material down.

  I didn’t stop him, and cold morning air ran goose bumps over my belly and arse. His fingertips teased over my mons. I jerked back, gasping, and pushed hard against the length of his erection. His smile curved against my ear. It felt right. Wicked.

  “Keep your eyes closed.”

  “What—”

  But the dip of his fingertip, the slow circle of its pad against my clitoris broke my question. I bit my lip, denying that he had me hot, that the idea of him taking me—fucking me—right there in such a public place burned up through my body.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Leona. This is the consequence of your choice. Of accepting my help.” A hand eased from my hip, and his knuckles brushed over the cleft of my arse. My heart pounded at the raw metal sound of his zip easing down. “I can feel the first fire in your blood. The need for me.” A darkness edged his voice, the strange burr to it twisting through my flesh. “It’ll grow. You’ll ache for me to fuck you.”

  The rough brick pressed into my forehead, and I stared down, fixing my gaze on the shadowed darkness of his hand against my pale skin. His finger circled and dipped in a tormenting rhythm, and the ache in my sex grew, driving my hips back. The heat of his skin against mine shocked me.

  A second finger joined the first, and I bit out a curse. The need to feel him, for him to sink deep into my body and fuck me until I screamed seared through my thoughts. My desire for him wasn’t natural. Wasn’t me. My pulse spiked. “Is…is this magic? Have you wrapped a spell around me?”

  Blake’s bitter laughter ran a shiver over my skin. “This isn’t magic.” His sharp teeth tugged at my earlobe, and the pleasure-pain rioted. The blunt head of his cock teased my arse and I sucked in a quick breath. “Now, shut your eyes and I’ll fuck you. Fast. Hard.” His low growl whipped the fire in my blood, his knuckles teasing my arse as his cock eased closer to where I ached for him. “Say you want it.”

  I shut my eyes against his words, wanting my dried mouth to say no, to deny him my body. But fuck, it’d been a long time since any man had had me this hot and wet. His strength, his not giving a shit that he’d shoved me up against a wall and yanked down my trousers had my heart drumming and made the roll and push of my hips against his almost involuntary.

  I didn’t care. Didn’t care that anyone could see us—me being fucked like this. Whatever happened was...right.

  “I…want you.”

  His low, guttural moan burned my skin. Blake pulled me back, changing the angle of my hips, and his cock brushed my wet folds. He pushed forward, the slow, slow stroke of him into my body pulling a soft curse from me. His hand snaked over my stomach to slip under my shirt and cup my breast. An unexpectedly rough thumb caught my nipple and spiked raw lust into my belly.

  “Keep your eyes closed.” The repeat of his raw command ran through me, hot and dark.

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  He pulled back and pushed deep. The first brief wave of my release caught me, and I gasped, panting out the flare of bright joy.

  He nipped my ear, my neck, the brush of his cool hair and bristled jaw spiralling fresh heat under my flesh.

  “So sweet.” His low words seared me. “So”—he thrust again, hard, and I cried out—“hot and wet for me. Oh, I’ll enjoy you, Leona Munro.”

  His fingers mirrored the rhythm of his cock, and tension tightened my belly. I needed him hard and fast, fucking me, taking me, making me—

  The strange thoughts whirled. Blake would do more than drive a wild orgasm through my flesh. I could feel it on the edge of my mind...and I grasped at it. He was preparing me for something. Something...incredible.

  His fierce grin curved against my neck. The power of him stroking into me, holding me hard to him, drove fire through my veins. I braced my boots against the cobbles and my hands against the brick wall. I didn’t understand any of it. His need. My own. But I met every thrust of his cock, welcoming the fast press of his fingers, the rough palm gripping my breast hard enough to bruise.

  I needed his strength. Ached for it.

  Blake’s scent, the sharp odour of the open ocean, filled me. His satisfied growls, slow and harsh, sank into my flesh, mixing with my quick pants. The rough sounds, so strange, so right, drove the promise of my release deep, made the need in me throb, my body tighten, and my thoughts spin.

  “I could strip you. Eat you. You’d taste”—his lips and tongue found my neck and forced a shudder of desire—“delicious.”

  His increased strokes into my sex, the strength of his hands on my breast and mons swept lust and fire under my hot, damp skin.

  I imagined him naked, the heat of his skin against mine. There’d be none of the constrictions of jackets and shirts, the uniforms that bound us. We’d be caught in the joy of darkness and fire, earth and stone.

  His low snarl gripped me, spun desire, the wild surge of my release so…so close that I could almost taste it.

  “Blake, make me come.” The words were a demand and a plea. My body shook. I needed to let the fierce glory of my release sweep over me. I needed—

  “Bite you, eat you, devour you.” He snarled against my ear. “C
onsume you.”

  White heat swelled up from my belly, rushing over my breasts and forcing me to throw back my head and pant out the hot blaze of joy and light bursting through my flesh and my thoughts.

  Blake’s strokes became erratic, and there...there...

  He came with a low, wicked growl that deepened the pulse of my release and chased fresh fire through my blood. The wild fury of his release ignited and surged over my own.

  He licked and nipped my neck, nuzzling, his hands easing their fierce grip to caress my skin. Shivers rippled over my flesh at the slow patterns he traced. “This is a part of the choice you made, Leona.”

  He’d known my name from the start... “How do you know who I am?”

  His fingers traced over the white enamel badge on my torn jacket. “I can read.” Blake pulled back and tugged up my trousers, covering my nakedness. “We are at the start of our journey.”

  I turned and flopped against the wall, watching him tuck his shirt back into his trousers. “Journey?” My fingers caught in my hair as I tried to make sense of what I’d just done with him against a wall in a public place...with people shooting at us.

  My pulse jumped. The insanity hit me.

  We’d risked our lives for a quick, hot fuck—and I hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. “What are you, Blake?”

  Blake wasn’t listening to me. He searched the sky, his eyes distant.

  “Damn it, pay attention to me!”

  Angered at my own stupid reaction to him, I thumped his chest, and he winced. I stopped. Warm wetness coated the edge of my fist. I turned my hand, and in the early-morning light, there was no mistaking the thick coating of blood over my palm. “You’re hurt. Oh…oh fuck.” I willed back the burst of panic chasing through my body. “We should—”

  “No.”

  He stared at me, and the arrogant power in his gaze twisted my stomach. “They were shooting at you. They missed.”

  He’d taken bullets meant for me. Magicians didn’t have this skill. For all of their power, a magician was still human, still bled, and died if you fired rounds into his back and chest. I had to ask the question again. It wouldn’t go away. “What are you?”

  “Someone who’s going to get you out of here alive.” He glanced over me, the dark hunger in his gaze heating the slivers of release still caught in my flesh. “I’ve done enough.” A wry smile pulled at his mouth. “For now.”

  Chapter Three

  Blake edged back to the end of the wall. I held my breath. He glanced at me and waved. I willed myself forward, stumbling over the muddy bank. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out along the cobbled corniche that stretched beside the South Bank of the river.

  “And that’s all you need to know.”

  “Like hell it is!” I stared at his jacket, but it was hard to trace the stain of blood against the deep black. “You healed me. Twice. Hell, fucked me. Someone shot you, and you’re oblivious to it.”

  I scrubbed at my face, trying to get my rattled wits in order. What had just happened to my life? I was a security guard with a fancy title and a useless degree.

  Fuck it, I was going to blame that bloody exhibition. Why the new curator had thought that pulling together artefacts related to the mythos of the Sea-Dragon would tempt anyone—

  Something slammed into place. Hard.

  “You’re from the cult, aren’t you?”

  The Cult of the Sea-Dragon. A myth. A band of men who did not exist.

  That had been the very short speech from the curator. The bloody exhibition had been open a day—just one—and already magic had destroyed the dock and the adjoining gallery.

  Blake stopped and stared at me...and something flickered in the depths of his eyes.

  “I fucking knew it.”

  Blake resumed his fast pace, his grip on my arm tight. He said nothing.

  I should’ve been organising the scene, following the recovery plan. Not this. Not running away. I had responsibilities. They were relying on me.

  “I have to go back. My job is to coordinate the disaster recovery.”

  “You were caught in the blast. The first thing they would do is remove you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Blake snorted. “You’re not thinking straight.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Blake stopped, glaring at me. He crossed his arms. “So you’re going to explain that a mysterious man in black, who may”—his eyes narrowed, and I knew he was mocking me—“or may not belong to the Cult of the Sea-Dragon, found you, healed you, shielded you and—finally—fucked you.” His laugh was to himself. “They’d get you one of those nice white jackets where the sleeves go all the way around.”

  “This is not funny.”

  Blake’s face slipped into its grim mask. “No, it isn’t.” He waved me ahead of him, urging me to walk quickly. I glared at him, hating the reliance I had on this stranger, but he was staring down along the corniche. “We have to get away before they track back.”

  The wail of numerous sirens thickened the air. I craned my neck but caught only glimpses of the flattened rubble of the scaffolded warehouses. Choking dust and smoke still shrouded the dock, strong winds cutting into the billowing clouds. “Who did this, Blake?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  I wanted him to know. In the confusion, the insanity of magic destroying the dock, I wanted someone to know what was going on. And Blake seemed to know a lot more than he was sharing.

  He stopped and pushed me back into the shadows of a maintenance doorway of the old transport offices. He stood close as he stared along the empty corniche. “Quiet.”

  I bit at my lip to stop the why that wanted to burst out.

  His stillness unnerved me. Animal intensity gripped him, and I thought only of a large, dangerous predator scenting the air. To think such insane thoughts...and for them not to be the most insane of the morning? Yes, my life was out of control.

  Blake swore, and his arm snaked around my body, pressing me hard to his broad back. He stepped deeper into the shadowed doorway. “They’ve found you.”

  “Who?”

  “Us.”

  I stared, my chin pressed against Blake’s hard shoulder.

  Three men stood before us. I blinked. Where the hell had they come from? One second the stretch of grey-cobbled path had been empty...the next, three men stared at me. My mind screamed magic. Panic tightened my chest. Had they destroyed the waterfront and now planned to deal with witnesses?

  Two of the men were armed with small, ornate guns. Gloved fingers rested against the triggers, ready to squeeze. The third man leant against the rail edging the pathway.

  Something about him seemed...different from his colleagues.

  Dressed the same as the others in the classic magician style, with a slick, hideously expensive suit and the affected walking stick, he was a beautiful, blond, carved god. But he had a sharp intelligence in his eyes that I’d never seen in one of their kind before.

  The magicians I’d met in secret hideaway clubs along the dock road had spilled over with stupid self-importance. This man had a…contained air. Powerful. Dark.

  “I know you.” The magician pushed himself away from the rail and planted his steel-tipped walking stick on the cobbles. His head tilted to one side, and he studied Blake. “I do; I know you.”

  Blake remained still, his arm tight around me.

  The magician’s pale gaze shifted to me. “And of course, you are Leona Munro.”

  I held his gaze. Obviously another who could read my work badge. “And you are?”

  “Tobias Conrad.” He performed a low and flourished bow that absolutely screamed magician. He straightened, and the intelligent gleam was back. “I apologise for my learned colleagues becoming slightly overenthusiastic with their weapons. Force of habit.” He glanced at the other men, and a smile twitched over his perfect lips. “Though their aim seemed very poor today. Very poor. They’re usually much more dead
ly. Anyway, I’m so pleased finally to make your acquaintance.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Why?”

  “Go now, Tobias.” Blake’s voice burned raw and rough after the magician’s urbane drawl. “End this.”

  “When it’s only just begun?” Tobias leant back against the rail, crossing his legs at the ankle. His silver-capped walking stick tapped against his bottom lip. “And Leona, you’re so much more interesting in the flesh.” He craned his head to try to see around Blake’s blocking body. “Well, what I can see of you.”

  “Again, why?”

  “Leona...” Blake’s low growling of my name pricked my skin.

  “He’s very brutish, isn’t he?” His smile was shark bright. “Ah, that means you must be...Blake.”

  The hand clamped to my waist tightened, digging into the flesh. I tried to keep my expression calm and neutral. What the fuck had I fallen into?

  “Yes, tall, solid, dark, absolutely no sense of humour. Sounds exactly like Samuel Blake.”

  Blake’s shoulders straightened. “I don’t know what you think you know, Tobias, but you and your men should leave. Now.”

  “Yes, they warned me about your need to threaten everyone you meet. Though with you, Leona, his interest seems more...physical.” The smile on Tobias’ mouth slide into a smirk. “And you? You seem to enjoy being crushed up against that much muscle.”

  Magicians and their smart remarks. I hated that about them. Heat burned under my skin, and I tried not to think about how aware Tobias had suddenly made me of Blake’s arm against my body. His large hand dug into my waist and hip, and his heat bled through the tears in my uniform. The feel of him—so hard and hot inside of me—still echoed in my flesh. I didn’t need a reminder, not there, not then.

  I pulled in my scattering thoughts. “Did you do this?”

  Tobias glanced at the clouds of smoke billowing out over the river in a grey-brown surge. A line formed on his smooth brow. “I grew up staring at those crumbling warehouses from across the river, watching the glass-and-steel towers burst up behind them. A daily reminder that the enemy was always watching.” He looked back to us, and something sparked in his pale eyes. Loathing, but he seemed...conflicted. “Never thought I’d live to see the day someone blew them to so much dust.”