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He advances, tall and menacing, his black hair flowing like a cloak behind him and his eyes sparking with fury. When I retreat against the side of the cave, he lunges forward, slams a palm against the rock wall near my head. His claws scrape the stone next to my ear, a grating rasp. His bulk dominates me, and his heat floods my skin.
“I thought we were something else, you and I,” he grits out. “I was beginning to trust you. It seems I was misled.”
“Don’t do that.” I put both hands against his chest and shove him. It’s like trying to shove a mountain. “Don’t blame me for the position we’re both in. It’s not ideal for anyone, and we could go around and around all night, shifting the blame from me to you, from my mother to your father, from the King of Vohrain to Fortunix, from Jessiva to me again. None of that would do any good. I thought that warning your brother would be enough. Even doing that made me feel like a traitor to my people. But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Kyreagan. I am. I don’t want your brother dead, nor do I want you dead, especially not now that you have human form.”
“So that’s it,” he sneers. “Now that I look more like you, you have pity on me. You’re willing to spare me. But me as a dragon—that is too unfamiliar for you. My true form, my language, my culture, my way of life, are unacceptable to you. In this body, I am palatable. As I recall, you did not appreciate me using that word about you. Consider, then, how I feel, knowing that if I were still a dragon with no alternate form, you would utterly despise me.”
“No.” The word escapes me as a breathless gasp. “I touched you in dragon form. I let you—pleasure me.”
“Selfishness. You accepted my tongue because you craved physical comfort, and you touched me because you wanted to ride, not be carried. Neither of those acts were for me… only for you.”
“What do you want me to say? Of course I like you better in this form,” I cry out. “We are an entirely different species, Ky. I thought you were beautiful, funny, and dangerously seductive before Thelise’s spell. Can you blame me for being glad that your body is now more compatible with mine? It has nothing to do with our other differences, and everything to do with the fact that you can fit inside me now. It’s that simple. Do you understand?”
His chest heaves, and he grabs my lower face in his hand, glaring into my eyes with a lustful rage so fierce and wicked I can hardly breathe. I tuck my thumbs into the waistband of his black pants and pull him nearer with a sharp jerk.
He grinds his thick erection against me as he speaks, his voice low and rough. “You want me inside you?”
I can’t turn my head because he’s gripping my face, but I angle my eyes away from his.
“Serylla.” He gives me a little shake. “Look at me. Do you want me to fuck you?”
A sharp whining gasp escapes me, but I still can’t make myself say it, despite the slippery state of my pussy.
“I can smell the change when your body reacts to me. Did you know that?” Kyreagan arches his spine, rubbing his bulge against me like a beast in heat. And perhaps he is. His magical transformation changed things; I wouldn’t be surprised if the heat began early.
My hands still clutch his waist, holding him pinned against me, and it’s all I can do not to writhe against him, hitch my legs around him, tuck his cock into my warmth… please, please…
His cheek grazes mine. “I want to breed you, Princess,” he rumbles. “I want to come inside you until you can’t hold any more, until your stomach swells with my seed. I want my eggs growing in your belly.”
“Oh god,” I breathe. Why did every sentence he just spoke send a delicious tingle through my body? There is something deeply wrong with me, because I’m thinking of letting him do exactly what he said. I would have carried the children of some pompous southern prince after all—why not carry the eggs of this dragon who truly needs me? It’s dangerous, of course—but in my experience, the best sex involves some risk.
“I don’t know about the egg thing,” I gasp. But even as I say it, I remember the herbs Thelise gave me. If we fuck, I could take a dose in the morning to prevent pregnancy.
I should give in to him now, and make up my mind about the eggs later. Fuck him just once, and hope the urge leaves my system afterward.
“If you’re going to deny me, do it quickly,” he rasps. “Before I am beyond the limits of my own strength.”
“It’s beginning, then? The mating heat?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that I am a heartbeat away from throwing you down and rutting you on the floor until I can breathe again.”
I’m practically dripping beneath my dress, frantically aroused at the bare thought of such compulsive need. Some primitive, shadowed part of me wants to be pursued like that, to be seized and thrown down and fucked so hard I can’t form logical thoughts. I ache to be wanted so ferociously, so madly, that a man can’t think of anything except losing himself inside me. Not just any man… this man. I want him to breed me with that kind of urgency—frenzied, reckless, monstrous. I want to give him all the control and feel him come violently, helplessly inside me.
If I’m being honest with myself, I think I’ve been craving this dragon since I saw him flying toward my city at the head of his army. Underneath every gush of my hatred for him was a subtle current of fascination, of attraction.
And that mighty dragon is a man now—a man with horns and claws and a gorgeous body that’s shuddering against mine. He drags his burning mouth along my cheekbone, lowers his hand from my jaw to my throat.
“I am stronger than you, even in this form.” His breath heats my lips, and his eyes are black coals. “Part of me wants to consume you, crush you, force you to submit.”
“You won’t, though,” I whisper. “You’re better than that. You’re kind.”
His lip hitches in a pained grimace. “I’m not. I have killed so many—I would not let myself think on it too hard, or regret it, but now I can hardly bear—”
“Hush.” I sway forward, tilting my pelvis, arching against him. “Sit with your guilt later. For now, think only of the game I want to play.”
“A game?”
Now it’s my turn to murmur in his ear, while lightning blazes and thunder rolls outside. “This is the game. I will run away, fight you, pretend to deny you. And in spite of that denial, you’ll take me, hard, whenever you want, any way you like, all night long. If I truly need you to stop, I’ll say ‘end it now.’ You must promise to respect those three words.”
