wanted to be held and stroked and filled over and over until his dragon’s massive strength
wore out. Instinctively, he pushed into Hugh’s hand and let Hugh feel how hard he was. Hugh
squeezed gently, and Finch shamelessly ground against his palm. His slick had started to flow,
and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he was drenched with it.
“I need you,” Finch whispered as he pleasured himself with his employer’s hand. “I need you
so much. Please.”
Hugh kissed away each pleading word, taking them into himself, then said the words Finch
would never forget, “Anything for you, Finch, my love, my treasure, my everything. I’m nothing
if not yours, and will be for all of time.”
* * *
Somehow—Finch was fuzzy on the details—he and Hugh lost their clothes and lay skin to
delicious skin. They kissed over and over and over and Finch felt like he might be drowning.
Or melting. Melting was a definite possibility. He was wet. So wet. And so hot as well. Even
naked, he felt like he was being roasted alive.
“Need,” he gasped between kisses. “Please. Please.”
Hugh licked up the side of Finch’s neck then bit the skin behind his ear. “Anything, Finch.
Anything at all. Tell me and it’s yours.”
“Need…” Finch tried to think, but it was so hard. Hard like him and hard like Hugh. But there
was something missing besides Hugh’s knot, and it felt like if he didn’t get it, he would die. If
only his heat-addled brain would clue him in to what it was.
“Yes?” Hugh’s hips rocked up against him, driving his cock along Finch’s lower abdomen.
Sparks of pleasure went off behind Finch’s eyes, causing him to gasp and arch his back. Wild
lust surged through him, overthrowing what little decorum he had left and bringing him to work
his hips in tandem with Hugh’s. How could he help it? He’d wanted Hugh forever, and now he
was getting his wish.
It was all so hot. So impossibly hot.
Finch didn’t know how much more he could take. “I need cold,” he blurted, but not ice, or a
chilly bath, or air conditioning. Only one thing would do. “Metal.”
Hugh’s nostrils flared. “Gold?”
That sounded like utter bliss. Finch imagined the way the coins in Hugh’s hoard would press