“Em!”
Emily was still laughing when she ended the call. Katy put her phone away and ordered another drink. So, Emily was in Scotland. Which meant Katy was stuck here.
The kissing couple had shifted position, and the woman now had her back to her partner, his thighs directly behind her backside and his hands on her hips. He was kissing her neck, and she looked blissed out. Content. She obviously trusted the man she was with, and Katy wondered if they knew each other or if this was an Italian thing. Their women seemed so sexy and free. More like Emily than Katy would ever be.
But I’m not Katy Toure tonight, am I? I’m someone else. Katy Toure checked out at the airport back home. Tonight I’m Emily. Fun. Flirtatious. Wild. Free.
What would her twin do in this situation? Exactly what Emily had told Katy to do. Find a sexy Italian man who looked like a god and get naked. Have some fun and a few orgasms. Not be alone in bed.
Again.
“Buonasera, Mia Regina. May I join you for a drink?”
The deep voice came from a man standing next to her, and Katy tore her attention from the dancing couple to look up. And up.
Their gazes locked, and Katy forgot to breathe. She flushed with pleasure. Excitement. The fantasy sex god had arrived as if on cue. And he’d just called her something his—she knew at least that much Italian. Her toes curled. Her nipples hardened into tight, aching pebbles. Desire bolted through her body as the air nearly crackled with sexual tension. Out of all the hot, single Italian women in the club, he’d singled her out. Picked her. A glance to the side showed at least half a dozen women glaring daggers at her. She didn’t care.
Katy turned back to sip at her drink, observing him from beneath the sweep of her long lashes. His wavy black hair was short and just a little wild. His lips firm, made to pleasure a woman. His eyes, dark and intense, filled with smoldering heat and promise. He was tall, packed with sinewy muscle she could see outlined through his blue shirt with a hint of gold from a chain around his neck. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a trim waist, making a perfect triangle that only a man who was seriously fit could pull off. He looked like a lean fighting machine. A large, predatory animal, balanced, focused, ready to strike. She trembled, everything feminine inside her responding to the masculine, dominant alpha waves rolling off him.
“Yes. I mean, sì, signore.” Katy’s voice took on a husky sound she’d never heard before. But then, she’d never been this aroused by just looking at a man either. Sex god might be an understatement. He was gorgeous. Perfect. His smell…
God, his smell.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as his cologne—she would have to find out what it was because the scent was the most amazing thing ever—surrounded her and made her body burn. Her breasts grew heavy, and her panties were instantly soaked with her desire.
She wanted more. She wanted to bury her nose in his neck and nibble on his skin. Rub herself all over him. Absorb him. Mark him somehow, as hers.
“I’m going crazy.” She whispered the words to herself but didn’t open her eyes. Not yet. Not when she could still taste his scent on her tongue and her body was on fire. She needed to gain control of herself. Calm down.
“Such formality… you must call me Ryker. And you are no more crazy than I.”
She finally opened her eyes only to find him watching her intently, as if he had noticed her odd behavior. Color swept up her cheeks. She thanked everything holy that the club was dark enough to hide her blush. She was acting like…like…
Em. I’m acting like Em. Wild. Free. But it’s okay. That’s who I am tonight. Not the controlled, responsible twin. Not the demure, reserved woman who has to think of everyone else first. Tonight I can let loose. Be free. No rules. Nothing but pleasure. Tomorrow I can go back to being the responsible one. Tonight I want for me.
She peeked at him again. His smile went straight to her core, and her thighs clenched.
Ryker slid into the seat next to her and placed his hand, palm up, in the center of the table. A blatant invitation.
Katy didn’t want to resist. She needed to touch him. She slid her hand into his and gasped as heat filled her entire body. Raw lust. Desire. It was like she’d fallen into a hot bath, and her mind went blank. All she could think about was kissing him the way the couple on the dance floor had been kissing. Pressing her body to his. Feeling his strong hands grip her hips. Her ass. Melting into his heat. Reveling in his scent as it enveloped her. Welcoming his hard cock pounding into her body over and over…and over.
“Dance with me.”
Katy’s heart pounded in her chest. The club was loud, the music thumping. She shouldn’t have been able to hear his quietly spoken words, but his voice was so deep it carried straight to her ears, vibrated through her body, and set her core to throbbing. His English was perfect, the accent exotic. Sexy. Not quite like the other Italians she’d spoken with while shopping. She couldn’t quite place it. Didn’t care. “Yes.”
Katy allowed Ryker to lead her onto the dance floor. As the music pounded around them, he pulled her in close. She went readily into his arms, her body suddenly pliant, melting into his strength. He growled low, pulling her in even closer. Molding her body to his. He bent his head slowly toward her, allowing her time to resist. She wanted this. Wanted his lips on hers. Without conscious thought, her gaze grew slumberous; her long, dark lashes swept down to cover her eyes as she waited breathlessly for his kiss. He didn’t disappoint her.
His lips were pure fire. Heat flowed through her like nothing she’d ever felt before as he conquered her mouth with his own, his large frame folding around her until she felt like they were the only two people in the world. She’d read novels where one kiss made a woman forget her own name but had never experienced it. Until now.
“Ryker.”
“Hmmm?” His response sounded as drunk on desire as she felt. They had melted into one body, one being, and she clung to him without shame or hesitation. She moved with him on the dance floor, the music barely registering. He moved, so she moved. His scent filled her lungs, made her feel like she was a wild thing and somehow he belonged to her now. Was hers to do with as she wished.
Was this pure lust? Pheromones? Chemistry?
Katy couldn’t help herself. She wanted more. Her head tilted back, her heavy fall of hair encouraging her to expose the sensitive curve of her neck. Her eyes drifted closed on a wave of pleasure as Ryker bent his head to skim his lips over her beckoning flesh, his warm breath sending tingles up and down her spine. She shivered at his erotic touch.
Ryker pulled her hips closer with one hand pressed to her lower back, the other diving into her hair, tugging her long curls just enough to let her know he wanted more access. To her neck. Her body. He wanted her to surrender. She gave him what he wanted. What she wanted. With her head back, her chest arched up, her heavy breasts tingling as they smashed into his hardness.
She caught her breath as he caught her body, one muscular thigh diving between hers, his hard muscles rigid against her warm center. She was powerless to resist. Didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him deep inside her, didn’t care who knew, her normal reserve burned to ash by her desire for him. Part of her screamed this was crazy, the rest of her didn’t care.
She opened her mouth to ask him who he was. Where he was from. Something. Anything to break the sexual spell he’d placed her under.
One word. She only managed one word.
“Ryker.”
5
Discoteca Reale:
* * *
Ryker groaned at the sweet sound of his name on her lips, his shaft hard and aching, his body adjusting to her every movement, every shuddering gasp as his lips devoured hers. He wanted, needed her. Mine.
Mate. Keep. Remove chains. Now.
His dragon’s demands rang loud inside his head. Ryker breathed deep. Absorbed his mate’s scent. Memorized every detail he could, unsure if the trembling came from his struggle to contain his drag
on or from his mate this time. He’d waited centuries for this moment. Given up hope. And yet here she was. Long black hair. Flawless skin. Dark, sultry eyes full of mystery. Passion. Easy, dragon. She is human. She will not understand if you grab her and fly away with her to some remote island to woo her. I met her once. I could have sworn Emily Toure was not our mate.
True mate. Show her. Remove chains. Now.
Confusion warred with the white-hot, burning need he’d fought from the instant he’d seen her. He tore his lips from hers, every instinct he had urging him to make her fully his before another could claim her. He could figure out what was going on later, when his mind wasn’t clouded with such intense emotions, for one thing was very clear—this woman was his true mate.
There were Draquonir, dragon kind, everywhere. Most came from within his domain. His clan. Ryker looked around the crowded dance floor, zeroing in on the outsiders. He had been away far too long. He, unlike some of the other kings, did not tolerate mixing of the clans. Experience had taught him how treacherous the others could be. His own uncle had mated a dragon from a distant clan, only to be betrayed. She had chosen loyalty to them over the love of her mate, slaughtering innocent dragons in the dark of night. Tonight, however, his only concern, his only thought would be for his mate.
Eyes flashing, he allowed his dragon to push dangerously close to the surface to let out a vocal warning too low for the humans in the club to hear. His message was unmistakable. Leave. The woman in his arms was his. Every male and female Draquonir had become aware their king was inside. There was no hiding who he was, the alpha. His dominance absolute and unmistakable.
Excitement buzzed in the air. The tension was palpable. They knew of his predicament. Knew of his dragon’s torment. Knew how truly dangerous he had become without his mate and, consequently, his date with the executioner.
The club began to clear, and he captured her lips a second time, teasing, tugging at her full lower lip until she was breathless with anticipation. When he would have ended the kiss, she did not allow it, instead wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing closer. Opening for him.
Ryker didn’t hesitate. He plundered the treasure that was her mouth, his appetite for her erupting into a blazing inferno in his blood. He could never get enough of her. Would never tire of her. His large hands clamped around her hips as he lifted her with ease to sit on the edge of the bar he’d maneuvered them toward.
The cold metal from the bar top seeped through Katy’s dress, drawing her attention from Ryker’s kisses to what was going on around her. Everyone was leaving.
“I-I think the club is closing,” Katy panted, regret blooming in her chest. Disappointment. “I should go.”
Ryker pulled her closer, his only response a low growl of denial.
Katy knew exactly how he felt. She didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want him to stop. For a moment her natural reserve kicked in. Lifting one hand from the bar top, she tunneled through his thick hair. Tugged. “Ryker.”
At last he drew back just enough to look into her eyes. He knew his own would be full of hunger. Need. His breath as ragged as hers, he cocked an eyebrow, his dragon too close to the surface for him to speak. His voice would be a mixture of dragon and man, and he had no idea how she would react. He was in control for now. Barely. He waited for a sign from her to continue. He’d never wanted anything as badly as he wanted her now, but the choice must be hers. Always hers.
Katy squirmed. Tugged at Ryker’s hair again. He had to listen to her. She had to make him listen. “Ryker. We have to stop. The club is closing.” She scanned the room looking for Mist, her pulse jumping in fear. “Even-even my new friend is gone.”
The full meaning of her words was slow to penetrate his lust-filled mind. Ryker froze, although every part of him wanted to continue. Make her his. Here. Now. On the bar. On the floor. The place mattered little. He was rock-hard and needed to be inside her, yet honor forbade him from continuing. With supreme effort he relaxed his hands. Put a fraction of distance between their bodies. He would have to risk speaking in order to explain. “Do not fear me. Mist trusts me, knows I would never hurt you. I care for my own. The discoteca belongs to me. We can do as we wish. If you prefer more comfort, I have a suite above here that I use when I want to stay overnight.”
Katy nearly melted into a puddle of goo at Ryker’s words. His voice, sexy as sin before, had deepened even further. Like magic, each word pulsed through her body. Her breasts became heavy, her nipples tightened painfully, while her inner core throbbed and wept with desire. Every hair on her body stood on end. Tingled with electricity.
Mist knew Ryker? Knew all along who owned the club? And he had a suite upstairs? Every naughty, bad-girl fantasy she’d ever had flashed through her mind, ramped her up even more. She caught her breath. He could take her up against the bar. The wall. The floor. The bed. He could take her. And take her. And take her. Yes. Yes. Yes. Eyes locked to his, she nodded her consent.
Ryker swept her up in his arms, a driving need to hold her close stealing over him. He had her consent. Dragons mated for life. He was no different as a man. He was primitive. Possessive. He needed her. There would be no turning back. From that moment on he would be dedicated to her happiness, his body an instrument of pleasure. Whatever she needed, he would provide. Hot and slow or hard and fast.
Ryker made a swift decision. The bed. Then the bar. He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?”
Ryker looked down at the woman he would cherish forever. The woman who was definitely not Emily Toure.
The twin. She had to be the twin sister he’d read about in Emily’s background report. Katy. He could throttle both of them for whatever scheme they were up to, but he was too damn grateful. Maybe a good, sound spanking on that delectable ass for this one. Later. Much, much later. If she was into that kind of thing. With a grin, he spoke the truth. “Mia Regina, you are lighter than air. I could hold you in my arms forever and never tire.”
“Oh hell,” she panted, his words a soothing balm and a girl’s dream come true all rolled into one. “You’re a smooth-talking devil on top of everything else, and I’m falling for it. Have you seen my ass?” she asked, wiggling for good measure.
Ryker laughed from deep in his chest, his heart rejoicing. His spirit lifted. His woman was a spitfire. He paused long enough to give her another drugging kiss, pleased that by the time he drew away, her eyes were once again heavy with promise. Need. Her face flushed with desire.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
“Your wish is my command.” Ryker took the stairs three at a time, then carried her down the long hallway. The door to his suite opened on silent hinges. He stepped through, then allowed her to slide down his body until her feet touched the ground while the door slid shut behind them. He turned her around and pulled her in close so that her back was to his front, the contact igniting a fire in his blood.
Katy moaned as Ryker’s hands explored, teased, stroked her through the dress as his lips traveled up and down her sensitized neck. She felt his cock, long and hard, wedged between their bodies. She placed her hands on his thighs, spread her legs just enough to allow him access, and leaned back into him as he lifted the edge of her dress and dived his hand under her black lace panties. His finger unerringly found her center and drove deep. She was wet. Ready. She let out a cry of pleasure as he set up a hard, fast tempo.
Legs weak, hands trembling, she dug her nails into his thighs. His only response was to work her harder, place his foot to the inside of hers and spread her legs wider. His other hand joined the first beneath her panties, two fingers spreading her feminine lips, the other pressing, playing with her clit just the way she liked it. Her toes curled at the intense pleasure. Lightning raced up her spine. She held her breath. She was so close.
“Let yourself go, regina mia. Fly. I will always catch you.”
Katy couldn’t hold on. An orgasm ripped through her body. She was engulfed by waves of pleasure. She cried ou
t his name as he pushed her over the edge.
Her legs gave out completely, and true to his word, Ryker caught her. She barely registered the opulent decor as he carried her past the living area, den, and into his private rooms. She saw but didn’t care about the huge, modern kitchen, the ultra-plush carpet, the crown molding or large sprawling sofas. Didn’t care about the heavy wooden shelving packed with books and mementos. Not even the priceless works of art on the wall or the sparkling chandeliers. It was all a blur. Nothing mattered but him. “Ryker.”
Katy gasped in awe as they entered the main bedchamber. Hundreds of tiny candles flickered in the darkened room, focusing her attention. Some cast deep shadows along the wall; some were scattered about the floor, giving a romantic, almost otherworldly feel to the room. “How?”
Ryker’s face lit up at her obvious pleasure. “Do you like it?”
“Of course,” she gasped, “but—but how?”
“Magic.”
Katy laughed. “Magic, or great housekeeping?”
Ryker smiled wolfishly as he placed her in the center of his king-size bed and removed her shoes. “Definitely magic.”
“Ah. I see.” Katy grinned mischievously, feeling playful. “Well, how about you magic your way out of that shirt?”
Ryker paused, enthralled by the imp he saw before him. So she liked to play, did she? If only she knew she was baiting a dragon. He smiled slowly, unbuttoned his shirt the human way.
Katy devoured him with her eyes as he revealed ropes of muscle across very broad shoulders. His chest and abs were no less impressive. As quickly as her playful mood arose, it was gone by the time Ryker’s large, strong hands undid the last button. She knew those hands now. Knew how good they could make her feel. Knew how strong he was after carrying her so easily. Her face and neck flushed anew as he stood before her bare-chested. Confident. Masterful. An alpha in his prime.
She was far from satisfied. His naked torso did nothing but whet her appetite for more. More pleasure. More Ryker. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly full of cotton.
Dragon Chains Page 4