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He lifts his head and shakes, like he’s adjusting to the new body, holding my gaze with those flickering eyes as he moves.
“You’re stunning,” I say.
He puffs out a warm breath and nuzzles his massive head against mine. Then he slowly drags his nose down the side of my arm, and in a movement startlingly fast, he bites the bottom of my dress and rips it off at the knee. Startled, I yelp as the cold air hits my legs.
His long neck twists to look at his back, then at me, part of my dress still clutched in his teeth. He does it twice before I realize he wants me to climb on.
I only hesitate for a moment before scrambling up and straddling his back. He twists his neck again, and drops the fabric from my dress in front of me, nudging it closer. I think he wants me to use it to tie myself on. I wrap it around my back and tie it around his neck, then hold tight as he shakes out his massive wings and takes to the air.
There are no screams from the street or from the party goers we swoop past who have congregated on Jethro’s patio again. I’m not sure how Midas does it, but somehow he stays hidden in this form. He flies out over the city, but doesn’t go far before circling back to his apartment building. I’m grateful, because the air is bitingly cold, even with his unnatural warmth beneath me.
After circling twice, he swoops through his open glass doors and into his living room. There’s a surreal sense of awe as he shifts mid-air with me on his back. Very much a man again. And completely naked.
For a moment, we’re falling. He gracefully twists, so he lands on the couch on his back, absorbing most of the impact, with me on his bare chest, very aware of how my dress flew up to my waist as we came down. Even more aware of his hard cock press between my legs.
In a fluid movement, he flips us so he’s on top, and I’m pinned beneath him. He pauses just long enough for me to know this is my chance to say the word, to stop this here and now.
But I don’t want to. How often does a girl get to have sex with a mythical creature, a man with muscles and magic?
I lift my head, close the few inches between us, and steal a kiss. The tip of his cock presses into me. He holds himself there, staring into my eyes, just long enough to make me squirm with anticipation and need. Then, in one smooth thrust, he finally shoves all the way into me.
We moan together, the feeling too good to contain.
He cups the back of my neck in that commanding way of his, and I melt.
“I’m never letting you go,” he says.
I want to believe he means it, but Nana always said, you can’t trust anything a man says during sex. This is endorphins speaking.
He hasn’t seen me after a long day of cleaning other people’s apartments, or when I freak out yelling at the neighbor who’s playing music too loud. He hasn’t seen how often I forget essential things, like permission slips and apartment keys. What will he think if—
“Stop over-thinking, my crown.” Midas bites my neck. The brief pain snaps me out of my doubt and brings my focus back to the here and now. The fire is flickering in his eyes again, shifting from red to gold to copper.
“I’m never letting you go,” he repeats. “You’re mine.”
He holds my gaze. Those burning eyes make promises I want him to keep. But still I doubt. So I just run my fingers through the soft strands of his hair and kiss his cheek, wishing it all to be true.
“Thank you,” he says as he kisses my forehead. “Thank you for losing control of your dogs and falling into me—a goddess-fated meeting. Thank you for agreeing to the party tonight. Thank you for letting me make you come in the back seat of my car. And on the patio.”
I chuckle. “I’m pretty sure I enjoyed all of that.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t show my appreciation.”
I don’t remember the last time someone genuinely thanked me for something. Sure, there’s the throw away gratitude when you hold open the door for someone, or you pick up something someone dropped. But having someone stop and tell me they’re grateful for something I did, having him tell me that—even when I’m the one who got something out of it—makes me feel seen and valued in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Tears well in my eyes. It’s too much. All of it. His gratitude. His generosity. His kindness. His power. His hands caressing every part of my body. His massive cock stretching me wide. It’s too good. Too perfect.
Midas wipes a tear with his thumb and kisses the salt from my cheek. “What is it, my crown?”
“This is all a dream, isn’t it?”
“The best one I’ve ever had.”
He pulls almost all the way out before burying himself in me again. A slow, steady glide. We kiss, and I taste my tears on his lips. Or maybe they're his. My poised and domineering dragon has tears in his eyes, too.
“I’m so glad I found you,” he says between breathless kisses.
He shows me his heart beneath the tough, scaled exterior, giving me exactly what I need.
