Dating a Dragon

by Abbey MacMunn

  He grabbed her backside and squeezed, hard.

  She threw her head back as he buried his face in her neck and nipped her earlobe. The sprig of bluebells fell from her hair.

  “I… we just met…” she uttered in a breathless rasp. “I don’t usually do this sort of thing…” At least not until the second or third date—she had some standards—and technically this wasn’t even a date, but everything about this felt right. Not to mention he was making her damn horny.

  He chuckled and pulled back, his dimpled smile loaded with sin. “We can stop if you want?”

  “No, don’t stop.”

  “Have you any idea how sexy you are?”

  “Have you?”

  He lifted her and wrapped her legs around him. She felt his erection between her thighs. Nick half stumbled, half ran towards a narrow staircase, knocking over a table lamp on the way. Something else clattered to the floor, but she was way past caring enough to look what it was.

  His large hands were everywhere, tugging her clothes as he climbed the stairs.

  “What about that drink you promised?” she said, her request half-hearted.

  “Forget the bloody drink.”

  In his hurry to get her upstairs, her elbow scraped against the rough plastered wall, her knee banged the other wall, and she lost a shoe.

  She giggled, fisting her hands in his soft waves.

  The stairs led straight into a bedroom set in the eaves, the moon shining through a tiny window offering the only light. She barely had time to register the masculine, neutral décor before he plonked her unceremoniously on the bed.

  Kat giggled. “Not exactly the gentle type, are you?” She sat up, admiring him as he stood at the end of the bed.

  “You better believe it.”

  Her arousal hit record highs. She had a penchant for a little rough and tumble between the sheets; she liked to give it in return too. Nothing too kinky, but she didn’t consider sex good unless she had a spanked arse and achy legs afterwards.

  Slowly, seductively, she untied her halter-neck top and let it slip to her waist, her breasts bare, her nipples peaked, ready for his touch.

  He didn’t disappoint, cupping her breasts with hands so hot it made her gasp.

  Needing to see a hunk of flesh herself, she tugged his shirt up his torso. He stopped what he was doing and yanked his shirt over his head, his moves urgent, as if he couldn’t wait to jump her bones.

  She wasn’t dissatisfied either. The guy was built like a Greek god—the one she’d suspected him of being earlier—with smooth, bronzed skin and a well-defined six-pack she wanted to trail the tip of her tongue down, towards his…

  “Fuck me, you’re hot,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. And not just the way he looked either, or how his muscles rippled when he moved. No, the heat radiating from his body was really something… she’d even go so far as to say it was scorching, as if he had his own internal heat source.

  Weird, yet incredibly sexy.

  He laughed. “I know I’m hot,” he replied with a confidence that alleviated her concerns. “And believe me, I intend to fuck you.” In a move so swift it took her breath away, he lifted her bottom and slipped her jeans down her thighs, her knickers too.

  His sinful appraisal of her nakedness sent erotic signals straight to her core.

  He arched an eyebrow, his striking eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Not so bad?” she teased. “I was hoping for a little more flattery.” She flicked off her remaining shoe and removed her jeans from her ankles. “Have you seen how long these legs are?”

  He trailed his fingertips from her ankle to her thigh. “I’ve noticed all right.” Goosebumps danced across her skin. “How about stunning sex goddess?”

  It would do for starters. “Keep going.”

  Nick moved his hand between her thighs.

  “I meant with the compliments.”

  “I think not.” He slipped his fingers along her slick folds, so wet for him.

  She whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck and urging him closer.

  His body heat consumed her. So gloriously hot. Her own body reacted to the scorching heat with a coolness that swept over her skin, the sensation like she’d walked into an air-conditioned building on a hot summer day.

  Odd, that had never happened to her before, but Nick appeared to like it.

  “My Katarina,” he murmured against her ear, his hot breath puffing her hair.

  Was she his? At that moment, and crazy as it sounded, she wanted to believe she was his with her heart and soul. How insane was that? No man, supernatural or otherwise, had ever touched something so deep within, a part of her she never knew existed until she met him.

  Swept up in the moment, Kat undid the button on his jeans and slipped her hand inside.

  No underwear. Holy shit, even his cock is on fire.

  She stroked his length, curled her fingers around him.

  Kat stifled an untimely giggle as the tune of Great Balls of Fire suddenly came to mind; one of Selene’s medley of old songs she insisted on playing all the time.

  Of its own accord, her body temperature dropped again, this time like she’d fallen into a chest freezer. Her fingers cooled to the point where she thought she might get frostbite, and yet she didn’t feel cold. This felt normal, natural—but how could turning into an ice queen be normal?

  What the hell are you doing, Kat? Stop trying to analyse everything and just have sex with the guy.

  Judging by the guttural groan that escaped Nick’s lips, he didn’t appear to mind her Elsa-from-Frozen impression.

  “You’re good at that,” he whispered, his voice husky.

  With a playful smile, she said, “You better believe it.”

  He grinned, and that sexy dimple appeared, rendering her helpless to his charms. Removing his hand, he then stood and yanked his jeans down impressive footballer thighs, his erection bobbing up and down. “I need you. Now,” he commanded.

  She was more than willing to submit to his demand, opening her legs for him as he leapt on top of her.

  Kat snaked her hands around his waist as he entered her and gyrated his hips, his actions hard and fast. She matched his tempo, grinding her sex into him, running her hands over his back, the muscles bunching beneath her touch.

  He was burning up, his skin red hot and dry, but her own coolness seemed to counteract it, and she continued, clawing her fingernails along the length of his spine, hard enough to cause welts.

  A groan of masculine pleasure rumbled deep inside his chest.

  Taking great enjoyment in his response, she grabbed his tight butt with both hands and squeezed.

  Then, she forced him to roll over, so she was on top. Her hair fell forwards as she straddled him, taking charge.

  He chuckled and administered a spank to her backside. She squealed in delight.

  Nick lay beneath her, his wavy ebony hair like a halo around his handsome face as they satisfied their desires.

  He slowed their wild lovemaking, his eyes piercing her soul. Tenderly, he cupped her jaw, stroked his thumb pad across her cheek.

  He trembled; he was close. So was she. She couldn’t remember the last time she had sex as fantastic as this.

  Kat kissed him. Pressing her breasts to his chest, she clung to him like she never wanted to let go. He wrapped his strong arms around her. His heat warmed her as she turned ice cold and cooled his fiery skin.

  His movements slow and sensual now, he took her to dizzying heights of pleasure, their bodies in unison, the air around them sizzling, like when ice meets fire, the sensation more erotic than she’d ever experienced.

  “Nix,” she whispered against his ear. Her eyes widened. Why did I call him Nix? Was that his real name?

  “Katarina,” he murmured back.

  She kissed him again, hoping he hadn’t heard her faux pas. To her relief, he returned her kiss, tangling his fingers in her hair. Just to make c
ertain, she looked him in the eyes.

  But he looked different.

  Still gorgeous and sexy as hell, but it was as though her vision had changed.

  Everything around her seemed clearer, more vibrant. The champagne-colored bedsheets, the furniture in his bedroom, the moon outside all focused as if she’d had laser eye surgery and could see clearly for the first time.

  Goosebumps appeared on her already freezing skin, raising the fine hairs on her arms. Frost clung to the hairs, glistening in the moonlight shining through the window.

  What the hell…?

  Terrified, she attempted to make sense of whatever was happening to her. She blew out a breath.

  Her hand shot up to her mouth. She’d breathed ice.

  Actual ice.

  The miniature icicles showered downwards. Icy shards instantly turned to steam, sizzling as they landed on Nick’s hot skin. Or Nix.

  Phoenix, a voice echoed inside her head. Fire.

  Visions flashed to the forefront of her mind, more vivid than they had ever been before, as though she was there, living, breathing, touching the memory.

  Flames and heat. Ice and frost. Destruction. The intense, liquorice-like aroma of aniseed; evil magic. Wind thundered in her ears. Flying. She was flying. A hooded figure stood on the ground below.

  A sorceress.

  That would mean she was… No, she couldn’t be…

  Confusion reigned supreme, but at the top of her jumble of thoughts was denial, refusal to accept what she might be.

  Fear shot up her spine.

  As she looked down at Nick—Phoenix?—seeking some kind of reassurance that this wasn’t happening to her, his eyes changed.

  His pupils elongated into black, vertical slits, like her previous vision, except this was real.

  Too real.

  Fear coursed through her with the ferocity of a tornado. Kat scrambled off him.

  “Katarina…?” He grabbed her wrist, his skin scorching.

  “I need to go.”

  In a split second, his features darkened, anger ablaze in his eyes, the pupils still black slits. “What the hell do you mean, you need to go?”

  “Something’s wrong with me.” She yanked her wrist from his grasp. She didn’t have time to explain; her only thought to control whatever was happening to her and to get the hell out of there. Kat grabbed her knickers off the floor and whipped them up her legs.

  He leapt off the bed and seized her forearm.

  Kat tried to tug away, but his grip tightened.

  She glowered at him, warning him to let go, but as she stared, her bravado slipped away.

  His body shook, his muscles rippled. Then his skin darkened and shimmered, the flesh transmuting into—she swallowed—scales.

  Sheer terror seized her, its vice-like grip a hundred times worse than his fingers digging into her flesh.

  “Get the fuck off me, you freak!” she yelled.

  He dropped her arm like it was on fire.

  Except it wasn’t. A band of ice covered her forearm, and beneath it, pale-blue, iridescent scales.

  Kat bolted for the stairs.

  Chapter Eight

  Bewildered, Phoenix stood in the middle of his bedroom. “Katarina, wait!”

  He fought the transmutation her rejection had evoked in him. He hadn’t meant to start the shift, but the fury born from frustration and crushed hopes burned deep, a pain so acute it fed the flames within. His breaths ragged, black smoke blew from his mouth, his nose. His dragon wanted out.

  The front door slammed shut.

  She’s gone…

  His fun-loving dragon girl was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Every bone in his body ached to follow her, to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right, but the fear in her eyes broke his heart.

  Her dragon eyes.

  God, how he’d missed gazing at those captivating emerald eyes of hers, but she’d fought her inner dragon. He’d witnessed the sheer terror on her face.

  Then she’d leapt off the bed and called him a freak. A goddamn freak.

  He breathed slowly in and out and controlled the shift. The last thing he needed was to go full-on dragon in his tiny bedroom and break the bloody roof—thatched roof repairs cost a fortune these days.

  Nix glanced down at his hand, watching her ice melt, then sizzle on his palm. He hadn’t meant to hold her so… so desperately, but he thought she knew what she was. He thought she remembered the life they’d shared.

  He’d missed their lovemaking too. Not for one moment had he imagined this evening would end with the most incredible, soul-consuming sex he’d had in centuries, but then, it had always been like that between them.

  Everything she’d said, everything she’d done, all suggested she knew him. The scent of magic that percolated in the air the moment he saw her in the pub, her sense of déjà vu, her recognition when he’d shown her the old photo in his lounge; he assumed she knew of her dragon nature. Nix recalled her words before he’d carried her upstairs. We know each other. You’re like me.

  So why had she feared him when he’d gazed at her through his dragon eyes? It was their thing, showing each other their dragon eyes just before they climaxed. It used to turn her on no end, and him too—why had it terrified her so much she had to scramble off him, leaving him high and dry?

  Not that he was in the mood now.

  He’d ruined everything.

  He shouldn’t have forced it; he shouldn’t have shown her the photo of them in the 1920s. His wishful thinking back then had got him nowhere, and now that same thinking, embedded with false hope, had lost him the best chance he’d ever had to break the sorceress’s curse.

  Kat, she called herself in this life. She wasn’t his Katarina. This Kat was a beautiful woman looking for some fun, and there was nothing wrong with that, but beneath the surface, she feared the truth. She was not ready to accept her dragon.

  He glanced around his bedroom, noting her jeans and top still on the floor, and a shoe too.

  A bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—she’d bolted from their cottage so fast she’d forgotten her clothes. Fond memories warmed his heart, of how they would soar through the sky, their wingtips close, before shifting back to their human form to run naked through the woods, giggling like a couple of schoolchildren.

  Phoenix drew in a sharp breath. What the hell was he thinking? He had to find her. Kat, Katarina, whoever she was in this life, the fact remained—he still loved her.

  His heart went out to her when he’d watched her fight the changes and deny the truth. Katarina clearly didn’t know her true identity or how powerful she could be.

  He’d let her leave, and now she was alone in the woods, at night, without clothes, except for her lacy knickers. She’d probably got herself lost, like the day her dog Toby had runoff. Once she accepted her dragon nature, she’d have an impeccable sense of direction, of course, but right now, she wasn’t ready.

  What if, fuelled by her fear, she wasn’t able to control the transmutation? What if she’d shifted into her dragon? She’d called him a freak—he could only imagine how terrifying it would be to her. What if she hurt herself or someone else?

  His stomach cinched. No matter what had happened between them or what she thought of him, he couldn’t leave her to face the truth alone.

  Nix ran down the stairs to his front door, readying his dragon.

  A blast of cool air filled his lungs as he flung the door open. Once outside, he transformed into his dragon and took to the skies in search of his soulmate.

  He soared through the night air, using his enhanced vision to comb the landscape beneath him. Nix circled the woods that surrounded his cottage. No sign of her, but he hadn’t expected her to be near the cottage by the way she’d shot out of there faster than an Olympian athlete. Flapping his powerful wings, he followed the path that led to his pub and circled overhead.

  Since it was past midnight now,
his manager, Adam, had closed the pub, and everyone had presumably gone home to their beds, including the dickhead Katarina had punched.

  Nix focused. Where was she?

  Maybe she hadn’t resisted the change and had morphed into her dragon after all.

  With a downward thrust, he flew higher and searched the skies instead.

  He looked for hours, covered acres of terrain and sky. He flew over the town, its dim, orange lights glowing below. Hidden from sight by the magic veil, he combed street after street looking for her, but it was as though she’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

  His wings grew heavy and tired. He was a fool to think he could find her. He’d let her run from what used to be their home, and he hadn’t stopped her. Hell, he didn’t even know where she lived.

  The familiar, soul-crushing despair returned full force, dragging him into an abyss blacker and deeper than anything he’d known before, and this time he hadn’t the strength to haul himself out.

  Nix’s wings weakened more, and he dropped a good twenty feet.

  He had to face it.

  He’d lost his beautiful, fun-loving soulmate.

  How long could he keep doing this to himself? The sorceress’s curse had proved too powerful yet again. What was the point in pining for Katarina any longer? He had to let her get on with this life where she called herself Kat, to live it out until her next reincarnation, and then maybe they would find each other again…

  Phoenix shook his head. No! Not this time. He would not allow that flicker of hope to take hold again. He had his life to live too.

  It was better to forget her forever.

  The early morning sun peeked over the town buildings as Nix headed home, his heart as heavy as his wings.

  Finally, he landed back at his cottage. Even the sight of his home, bathed in bright yellow sunlight, the place where he usually found peace, did nothing to lift his soul.

  With a heavy sigh, he went inside.

  He tried not to allow it, but his gaze flitted to the picture on the wall. In silence, he took it off its hook and carried it upstairs, picking up Katarina’s stray shoe on the tread as he went. He ground his teeth, refusing to think of how it got there.