by Riley Storm
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll take the money,” he said dismissively before continuing, his tone making it clear he was addressing Claire now. “You should have come with me, babydoll. When I offered to take you back. Your life would have been way better. But it’s too late for you now.”
“Listen to you,” Claire said, practically laughing in her defiance.
God, I love this woman so much, Pietro thought, too preoccupied with listening to focus on the words of his own mind.
“You didn’t offer to take me back,” Claire said. “I left you, you dumb idiot. I’m over you, Pete. You just feel vulnerable because I disobeyed you. You can’t handle the fact that I might not like you anymore. That I hate you, and that I left you. Your women can’t have opinions, they can’t be independent, and you despise me for trying. That’s why you’ve brought me here, in front of these…I don’t even know who this bathrobe idiot is. It doesn’t matter, Pete. Anything would be better than going back with you.”
Pete laughed. “You have no idea what’s coming for you, Claire. You have no idea what they’re going to do to you. But you will soon enough. And you’ll scream. But I won’t be around to hear it. And you know what? Neither will that new loser of yours, will he? Because I don’t see him around. You’re alone, Claire. Where is he, hmmm?”
Pietro rose to his full height.
“Well, if that’s not an opening,” he said, striding out from the shadowy hallway. “I don’t know what is.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Pietro
“Hi, Pete,” he said, as the occupants of the room turned to look at him. “I’m right here.”
Pietro glared at the ex-boyfriend, waiting to see his face turn white and fill with terror. So when instead Pete began to grin and turned to the other man, he felt abruptly wary.
“He’s all your problem now, Father,” Pete said, clasping the third occupant on the shoulder. “I did what I needed to do.”
Bag in one hand, Pete waved at both of them and headed for the back of the room where an opening in the wall indicated another exit. He disappeared beyond, footsteps sounding as he ascended some stairs that were hidden from view.
More concerned with his mate, Pietro turned to face the other two people in the room. He started to speak, but his attention was ripped back to the other exit as he heard something that sounded like a yelp echo down, but it was too distorted for him to be sure.
“This is officially getting weird,” he growled. “You need to go now. Before you get hurt.”
“He is come among us,” the other man said, turning slowly to face Pietro. He was indeed wearing a robe. It was deep crimson, rich, and full of color. The hood was pulled up over his head, but he lowered it now, revealing a bald head on top of his tall frame.
It was his eyes that made Pietro’s breath catch in his throat. They were dark. So dark they were almost black, but they were filled with an intensity that made him almost take an involuntary step back.
The hatred Pietro saw within was astonishing in its depths, and all of it was directed at him.
“Though he looks like one of us, he is not. He is evil, sent from thy lord of fire and hell!”
The religious rhetoric the tall, thin man was spouting cleared up a few things, as did the choice of his robe.
“You’re a member of the Church of the Anti-Wyrm,” Pietro said quietly.
“I am their shepherd,” the man corrected. “They are my flock. I guide them into the light and keep them safe from the demons such as you. Stay back, evil one!”
“What the hell are you doing?” Pietro snarled as the preacher took a step toward Claire.
“Saving her,” the tall man said devoutly. “From your evil clutches. It’s not too late yet. There is still time for her to renounce her ways.”
“Kidnapping her and bringing her here, just to try and save her soul? Why would she ever take your side after that sort of treatment?” Pietro asked, completely puzzled.
The preacher grinned. “No one ever said that Satan’s spawn were devoid of intelligence. No! They are smart. But God’s chosen are smarter. We realized that we could not convince her to leave you with simple words. We tried that with another, but she too rejected us.”
“You should have learned,” Pietro growled, taking a step forward.
“We did,” the preacher said, his eyes going wide. “We found a way to get you both out of the way. So that the plan may succeed!”
“So far it looks like your plan is failing,” Pietro said. “Miserably.”
“Does it?” the preacher asked. “Tell me, my fine-eared friend. What can you hear?”
Pietro frowned, opening his dragon senses fully, taking in all the sounds that reached him. Then, he filtered them out, one by one, forcing himself to hear what else was there. Far in the background, he thought he heard something. Beyond the machinery and distorted by the echoing hallway.
Sirens.
“The police are coming,” he said. “You called them.”
The Church priest, or whatever title his cult gave him, smiled, revealing brilliant white teeth. “You can’t corrupt her if she’s out of your reach.”
“I don’t get it,” Claire said from where she sat, still tied to a chair.
“They’re trying to send you to jail,” Pietro said, striding forward to free her, wishing he’d done it earlier.
“I know,” Claire said. “But…you just tell them that this idiot here kidnapped me. I mean, surely you can stop him from leaving, can’t you? Pete’s out there somewhere too. We catch him, and we have all the evidence.”
“I can definitely do that,” Pietro said, turning slowly to advance on the priest, not bothering to disguise his glee at the prospect. “Definitely not a well thought through plan.”
“Or perhaps a little more well thought through than you expected,” the priest said, lifting a hand.
Pietro hissed as two shadows detached themselves from the corners of the far end of the room, advancing to flank the priest on either side.
“Come, preacher,” one of them said in passable English. “It is time we departed.”
They turned and left the room.
“Why didn’t you fight them?” Claire asked once they were gone.
“One of them would have gotten to you,” he said, staring angrily after them. “Besides, there’s something more going on here. Something we’re missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because this wouldn’t stick,” he said. “You won’t be in jail even if I was going to stay around and let them arrest you.”
“Even if…” Claire started to repeat him, then trailed off. “We don’t have to do this, Ro.”
“Yes we do,” he growled. “They can get to you in jail if they choose. I don’t think that’s their plan, but I can’t risk it. We’re going now, before the deputies get here. We’ll sort it out after. Once I know you’re safe. I will not let something like this happen again!”
Claire came to stand at his side, hugging him. He flinched at the sight of rope marks on her wrists. This was his fault. He should have been keeping a closer eye on her.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly, noting his gaze. “You’re here. I’m safe now, thanks to you. You saved me, Pietro.”
“Yeah,” he said, gathering her up and heading for the exit. “But what is it they were truly hoping to achieve with this?”
Somehow, he knew they were going to find out sooner rather than later.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Claire
Pietro was struggling.
Claire chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do. How should she approach it? What way would give her the best shot of getting him to be honest and open with her about his mental state?
Dragons, she was learning, were proud creatures. They abhorred admitting to weakness and would only do so under certain circumstances. Yet she could tell that the day was weighing him down. He was beating himself up over his perceived ‘failu
re’ to protect her.
And she couldn’t keep quiet anymore.
“You can’t follow me everywhere, Ro,” she said gently, sitting up from where she’d been leaning against his side on the couch, the television playing aimlessly in the background. Neither of them had been paying attention to it.
“I can keep you safe.”
“If you try, you’ll smother me,” she said quietly. “I need to have some freedom, Ro. Some. I have to be able to make a choice.”
Pietro’s head came around at that last word, focusing on her with an intensity that almost frightened her.
“What are you really saying?” he asked quietly. “That last line. It’s not about me not protecting you. Is it?”
“No,” she said quietly, realizing what she was really getting at, though it hadn’t been her intent. “But well, Lilly told me a few things, Ro. About you. About dragons.”
“About our mates,” he said quietly. “Yes?”
She nodded.
Pietro sighed. “Well, you two are BFFs. I suppose that should be inevitable. But why is that making you uneasy?”
Claire spread her hands out, giving him a long look. “Mated for life? Destined by fate to only have one? I mean, the concept is wonderful. I love the idea of it. But…I don’t like my choice being taken away from me. What if I decide I don’t want this? What will you do?”
She steeled herself for a possessive answer. One that would reveal the truth of her situation.
“Then you choose someone else,” Pietro said tightly. “I can’t force you to stay any more than I would want to force you to. I think Lilly might have done you a disservice in how she explained it.”
“What do you mean? I think I got the gist of it,” Claire said, frowning. “Dragons only have one mate. I’m yours. What’s to miss?”
“The fact that you aren’t a dragon,” he said with a wry smile.
“I don’t get it,” she said, the frown growing stronger. What was he talking about? Of course she wasn’t a dragon. She hadn’t suddenly started think she was one of them.
“I’m the only one who will find a single mate, Claire. You’re human. You have something I don’t.”
“What’s that?” she asked nervously.
“Freedom to choose,” he told her quietly. “To choose me or, if you wish, to not choose me.”
“Oh.” She sat back against the couch and considered his words.
“I’ll be here for you, but if you decide I’m not the one for you, once the vampires have been dealt with, you’ll never see me again,” he said quietly. “That I promise.”
Claire exhaled slowly. “I’m not saying yes,” she said at last. “Nor am I saying no. But Ro, if this is going to work out, then you’re going to need to do something.”
“What’s that?” the big man asked, shifting to better face her.
“Talk to me,” she said quietly. “I know you’re upset at breaking the law earlier and getting me out of there without the authorities seeing me. But you can’t keep beating yourself up for it. It’s an unusual situation.”
“They could have killed you,” he started to say, but she cut him off.
“But they didn’t, because of you. You found me.” She tilted her lips. “How did you find me, by the way?”
“Your phone,” he said. “Remember how we set up ‘find my phone’? I used it.”
Claire smiled. Pietro wasn’t a technological Neanderthal, but it wasn’t his best subject either. She’d heard that was the way with many dragons. They often preferred a simpler life. Hearing how proud he was that he’d remembered to use that, when his mind would have been filled with fear for her safety, was absolutely adorable.
“You are so cute right now,” she said, leaning in and throwing her hands around his neck. “Like seriously. Hard to handle. That was smart of you. Dumb of them too, to let me keep it on me.”
“You don’t hear me complaining,” he said, pulling her in closer.
“No, I don’t,” she admitted, falling into a kiss that lingered on for several seconds. “Definitely not complaining.”
“I’d like to hear you,” he growled into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Though complaints wasn’t quite the sound I had in mind…”
“Oh you would, would you?” she purred, pressing her chest against his body as an answering fire awoke in her, rising to match the look in his eyes as he gazed down at her.
“Mmmm. Indeed. Here, let me show you.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Pietro
Claire didn’t resist.
Instead, she all but melted at his touch as he lowered her to the floor, the plush area rug reaching up to caress them both. He took her hands, pushing them up above her head, pinning them gently to the ground, exerting his strength over her as he watched her face.
Biting her tongue, Claire stared back at him. She was a sight to behold, spread out underneath him, her flaming red hair like an echo of his scales, spread out on either side of her, drawing attention to the center where her face gazed up at him, desire pooling thick in her eyes.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he growled, struck once more by how lucky he was to have found someone like her.
“You really think so?” she asked, smiling shyly.
“If you could read my thoughts, you would never have a doubt again,” he rumbled. “You would know how stunning you look.”
“Well, thank you,” she said with a nervous giggle, glancing between their hips. “That’s the only indicator I have, though it seems to work quite well.”
“You bring out the best in me. What can I say,” he said, leaning down to kiss her, covering her body with his entirely.
Their lips met, and he forced himself to take it slow. To memorize that moment. Pietro never wanted to forget what it was like to have her under him. To feel so close and intimate with someone the way he did with Claire. It was perfect.
Her hands slipped free of his grasp and wrapped tightly around his neck, ensuring that the kiss went on for some time, even as her body began to move against him. It was hard for Pietro to resist simply tearing her clothes away and taking her. He wanted to feel the warmth of her as he entered, to hear the gasp as he pushed deeper, and the cries as he punished her body with the ultimate expression of pleasure.
But first, he wanted her to suffer pleasantly. A wry grin twisted his lips, and he pressed his hips down between her legs, rubbing himself just right. She hissed and stiffened as he passed over her core, and he repeated the movement a few more times, just to tease her. There was too much clothing in the way for it to be truly effective, but that didn’t matter.
“You tease,” she moaned, pouting up at him when he stopped. “That felt good.”
“It would feel better without any clothing in the way,” he growled, nuzzling his way between her head and her shoulder, biting gently at the exposed, sensitive skin on her neck.
Claire hissed sharply, her body tightening for just an instant before she relaxed, grabbing at his neck, pulling him in tighter.
“That feels good,” she moaned softly. “I like that too.”
Balancing himself on one elbow, Pietro ran a hand up her side, finding the hem of her shirt and slipping his fingers under it.
“So warm,” she gasped, thrusting her chest up at him as he sought it out under her shirt. “How do you do that?”
“Trade secret of being a dragon,” he teased as his fingers found one of her nipples under her bra and began to gently play with it.
Claire shivered. “I love the way you touch me, Ro. Mmmm.”
He bit down on his own lip as blood surged through his system, the sensations of her beneath him fueling his own arousal.
“Let’s get rid of this,” he growled a moment later, tugging at her shirt.
“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Claire said, nodding in agreement as he placed one hand on her back and casually lifted the upper half of her body from the floor so she could strip.
To his amusement and approval, she undid her bra as well, sliding out of it, her large breasts freed and exposed to his eyes—and his mouth. Her next words were cut off as his tongue swirled around her nipple and he sucked gently.
“Oh, Ro,” she gasped, both hands around his neck now, holding him tight to her.
Dexterous fingers undid her jeans, finding no issues with the zipper either. With the extra room, he was able to push his hand down between her legs, the denim stretching. Now with the perfect angle, he glanced up at her face as he brushed a finger against her, little more than flimsy underwear fabric separating them.
Claire’s entire body stiffened at his touch, and her moans grew slightly in volume. By that point, Pietro had thought he was hard, but hearing her just then strained his pants to near breaking point as he swelled further.
He’d never seen anyone sexier, never heard a more arousing sound than the ones Claire was making now at his touch. Burning desire filled him, and he began to hurriedly strip her, needing more of her. He needed to touch her, taste her, take her.
Claire didn’t fight him. In fact, she helped him, pushing her underwear down as he all but ripped her jeans from her body, tossing them aside in a heap.
As soon as she was exposed to him, he buried his face between her legs, the heat reaching up and smacking him in the face as he felt her arousal.
Claire lay back with a long moan, her hands alternating between grabbing at her chest and pushing her fingers deep into the carpet as she writhed in his grip. Pietro loved this part. He loved watching her face as he ran his tongue over her, and he loved using his strength to hold her legs still, overpowering her in the best way so that he could bring her the climax she so deserved.
When it happened, he hung on tight and kept doing exactly as he was. No changes, nothing different. He did glance up, feeling himself trying to burst from his pants at the erotic sight before him, but his mouth never altered, allowing Claire to simply relax and enjoy what he was doing to her body.