Fire in His Blood - Page 48/75

 

Some time later, a flash of gold in the distant skies catches my attention, and I suck in a nervous breath. Is that my dragon or another? It’s hard to tell from where I’m standing. I move to the ledge of the building, where the walls have crumbled away and the skies are wide open. A step in the wrong direction and I’ll tumble off the side. I usually avoid it, but now I approach without fear. I figure there are two scenarios—that’s a mystery gold dragon that will eat me if he can’t mate me and I’m dead anyhow, or it’s Kael and he won’t let me fall.

Weirdly enough, it’s comforting to think that Kael has my back no matter what. I push my wildly whipping hair out of my face and scan the clear blue skies. Nothing. Maybe it was my imagination.

Kael? I try. Where are you? It feels strange to be speaking from my mind, but I don’t know if speaking aloud will reach him…if it is him.

To my relief, the big gold dragon swoops in close to the building and begins to circle low the moment I send that out. It’s him. I know it just as surely as if he said hello back to me. I shield my eyes from the late-afternoon sunlight, watching him lazily descend through the air. He really is beautiful like this, I think. All gleaming scales and massive, sinewy muscle. He’s graceful, too, despite the bulk of his dragon form. As I watch, he cants his wings and begins to slowly descend onto the broken roof above me. Massive clawed hind legs perch on one of the walls, and he tucks his wings in like a bird, and then peers down at the floor.

I wave. It’s automatic, and I feel a little silly, but I wave.

His eyes flash to a pleased gold, and he immediately switches to human form, lithely jumping down into the office room where I wait. I half-wince as he lands, knees bent, but the long fall doesn’t seem to bother him. Dragon bones must be stronger than human bones, because a jump like that would have broken both my legs. He straightens, and again, I can’t get over how beautiful and graceful he is. It doesn’t matter the form—watching Kael move is pure pleasure.

“You’re back,” I say, and then feel lame and obvious. Of course he’s back. He always comes back for me.

He stalks toward me, crossing the room, and I step back, uncertain. Is he mad? His eyes flash between the black of strong emotion and gold, but there’s no anger radiating from his thoughts. I hesitate, wondering if I should run.

Kael’s big body moves in front of me, and he puts his hands at my waist, then drags me against him. One hand curls around my jaw, and he tilts my head up with gentle fingers, mindful of his claws. He studies my upturned face for a moment, and my heart flutters wildly. Then his mouth descends on mine in a light brush of lips.

I shiver at the utter tenderness of that embrace. Why have I been fighting against this so hard? Sometimes I’m so stupid. Pressed up against him like this, I feel protected and loved. Why can’t I be happy with that? “Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” I whisper.

Never mad. Never.

Then his mouth is on mine again, and when I part my lips, his tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me in an even deeper kiss. God, you’d think the guy had been kissing all his life the way he takes to it. I love it. I love it when his tongue strokes against mine, and I love the growl of pleasure he makes as our lips lock. It makes my nipples harden in response, and a familiar ache sweeps through my body.

My Claudia. My mate. I hear the words clear as day in my mind, and a moment later, he sends me a brief flash of a mental image—me sprawled under him, arms raised over my head, Kael between my thighs, fucking me hard.

I break the kiss, pulling backward. Shock and arousal both wash through me, along with a little bit of fear. I don’t want to be bitten again. I…I don’t know what to do. I want him, but at the same time, I’m terrified of what happens when he comes. I can’t put him off forever, though. It’s going to strain our fragile relationship. Maybe…maybe I can train him that humans like to give pleasure in other ways, too.

So I slide my hand to his cock and wrap my fingers around it. “Can I touch you like this?”

He moves in and licks the seam of my mouth, a motion that sends tendrils of lust all through my body. I would give you pleasure.

“But I want to give you pleasure. Doing this for you would give me much enjoyment. You put your mouth on me…why can’t I do the same for you?” And I give him an encouraging squeeze.

His eyes go black momentarily. You would put your mouth on me there?

I lick my lips and watch as his gaze locks on my tongue. “I would. Is that okay?”

In response, he steps back and closes his eyes. Touch me as you like.

I’m a little perplexed at that response, because it seems kind of vague. Like I can touch him but he’s not going to care if I do? That’s not the reaction I want. But when I stroke my hand up and down his length and his head tilts back, lips parting, I watch his fist clench and realize that he’s enjoying this very much. I wonder why he doesn’t want to watch.

My eyes will turn black. I do not wish you to be scared.

He doesn’t sound like he’s losing control, though, so I’m not afraid. “Because of high emotion?” I let my fingers trace the head of his cock, the large mushroomed head of it, the ripple of delicate scales. There’s a ton of heat radiating off of him, and I’m fascinated how someone so big and strong and covered in scales can have such silky soft skin. But he does, and it’s pleasurable to touch him, though it looks far more pleasurable for him.

High emotion. Yes.

“You like my touch?” I can’t help but fish for compliments.

Nothing is more pleasing. I watch in fascination as he shudders when I lightly scrape my nails along the edge of his scales here.

“Nothing?” I tease.

Being deep inside your cunt is better.

Oh, dragon dirty talk again. It’s making me breathless, and I want to stay in control. So I just make a murmur of acknowledgment and decide to keep distracting him. I sink to my knees, settling down in front of him. I lean in and let my breath gently waft over his skin. “Will your seed burn me today if you spill?”

There’s a slightly breathless pause, as if he’s imagining all the places my mouth might go and where his seed might spill. No.

Pre-cum is beading on the head of his cock, so I decide to test that theory for myself. It’s all fun and games until Claudia gets burned, after all. So I gently dab a finger on the droplet of moisture. It feels extremely warm, but not so much that I worry it’ll burn me.