Dragon Fever (6 page)

“Where’s the rubber tree?”

Rave grunted. “Hold on.” He twisted around to reach for his jeans. He’d draped their clothes over the ledge that framed the pool. He withdrew the foil square. “I feel I must explain. I saw you on the security cameras. That is why I went to find this before I found you.”

Okay, that made her feel a little exposed. But she put one hand on her canted hip, letting him get an eyeful of what the cameras
hadn’t
seen. “I guess the house really does always win.”

“I’ll make sure you get your fair share.” He sat back on the ledge, his thighs spread. “Come to me.”

She hastened toward him and he took her hand, guiding her to kneel astride his lap, facing him. The tile under her knees was unforgivingly hard but smooth as flower petals. That minor discomfort was forgotten as Rave’s big hand cupped her mound.

“You’re so wet for me already.” He pressed against her labia, teasing the hidden nerves around her clit, and she shivered with the fever of wanting him.

“It’s been awhile,” she admitted.

“Longer for me, I’m guessing.”

Was that why he’d chosen her? Even as the self-consciousness reared in her, she battered it down. He could’ve had any woman in the Keep, probably.

But he’d seen
her
. He’d come for her.

For once, she’d be the greedy one, and she’d treasure this moment forever.

Chapter 5

Rave held back a mighty groan when Piper braced her hands on his shoulders and writhed slowly against his palm, working herself in a circle until the base of his thumb grazed the swollen nub of her clit. Damp, slick heat coated his fingers as he tested her readiness.

She moaned and impaled herself on his hand, grinding down hard.

Oh fuck yeah, she was ready.

Still palming her, he smoothed the condom down his aching cock.
Do. Not. Come. In own hand.
But her needy little whines were driving him mad.

Sure, that was his excuse now. But what in the name of the skies had made him bring her to his secret place?

This was his lair, where he shifted and flew, out of sight, where he kept his treasure hidden.

So many secrets. No wonder he’d felt compelled to strip himself bare in front of her, even if he couldn’t tell her a thing.

But she hadn’t fled from his touch. She welcomed it, sought more of it, if her heaving pants were any indication. And the clench of her knees around his hips held him fast. He tried to keep himself a little apart, but her pleasure spread through him like a fever.

In a haze, he centered his cock at her slick opening and with exquisitely agonizing slowness, speared her to the core.

She tilted her head back, her dark eyes closing in ecstasy. Her fingers spasmed on his shoulders, driving muscle down to bone. She was stronger than she looked.

He thrust up into her depths, gritting his teeth against the urge to launch her into the air with the force of his poundings. Her every little mewl, each little grind, whittled away at his control.

Good thing he had centuries of stone built up around him, or she would have wrecked him with one whimper.

But his stone couldn’t last against the relentless onslaught of her wet heat. She would crack him apart…

He fisted his hand in her thick, black hair, cranking her head back farther. She thrust her breasts out, the heavy globes coming right into reach of his teeth. Lush with the sugar-and-spice scent of her arousal, her dark gold skin gleamed in the firelight, richer than anything in his ancient hoard.

He swirled his tongue along one dusky areola, bringing the flesh to a peak as hard and blood-red as a raw, uncut ruby. He had more than a few of those. Next time, he would pour the gems around her and watch her eyes gleam with awe.

Next time…

The shock of his own wayward thoughts made his jaw clench, and he bit down harder than he meant to. She bucked against him with a sharp cry, a fresh gush of heat clamping on his cock.

Oh, so she liked a touch of roughness.

He kissed her bitten breast, lashing the hurt with the softness of his tongue until she moaned.

Then he bit her again.

She screamed and orgasmed with a power that nearly knocked them into the pool. Only the strength of his legs braced against the tile kept them from going over backward.

He forced her hips flush with his, riding each spasm of her pussy like the stormy gusts that would either crush him to the earth…or fling him to the sky.

Letting her come halfway down, he stroked one hand across the small of her back, tracing the unseen dimples framing her spine. That was where he’d pour the Carmenère. When her breathing had almost steadied, he brought his hand around between them, flicked her clit and sent her off again like a bottle rocket.

And this time he followed.

He pumped his hips up into her, bouncing her, until with a hoarse shout he came.

His muscles locked with the force of his ejaculation, lifting her higher. She clung to his shoulders, her fingers driving muscle to bone, hard enough to leave a bruise if he’d been a man. Definitely stronger than she looked.

As his ass settled back to the ledge—more shaky than that time he was struck by lightning while flying through a desert thunderstorm—she tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

He wished that somewhere among his treasures he had something soft, a bed maybe, or at least a blanket. But he’d never needed either one before.

“Piper,” he murmured.

“Shh.” Her breath tickled his neck. “Don’t ruin the magic with man-speak.”

He opened his mouth to scoff that man-speak wouldn’t happen with him considering he was a— What the hell? Had he almost told her he was a dragon-shifter?

He choked down the words. Some secrets were not his to share. “I was just going to say hold on while I get you off your knees. They must ache.”

“I’ll never walk again,” she agreed solemnly. She lifted her head to look down at him. “Because from now on I’ll fly.”

She smiled, flashing the gap between her teeth, and though he’d thought every muscle in his body was entirely sated, something in his chest constricted.

The confession beat in his throat, struggling to emerge. “That good, huh?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“Back to being polite?”

She tilted her head, dark hair looping over her shoulders to brush his pecs with an airy kiss. “I could say fuck you, but it would kind of mean the same thing.”

He tightened his grip and rose to his feet, with her still riding his cock. She squeaked and wrapped her arms and legs entirely around him.

It felt…

Good.

He didn’t want to put her down.

But he always felt that way about treasures he found. Even if not all treasures were his to keep.

He strode with her to the other side of the pool where a waterfall just a little taller than him plunged over the tile. Reluctantly, he lifted her off his cock and let her slide down his chest.

As soon as she stepped away, his body began to chill. And he was a dragon—he always ran hot.

Discreetly, he disposed of the condom. In days of yore, all a dragon’s pieces and parts had been considered priceless. Once upon a time, she might’ve bought half a kingdom with his cum.

Not that he could tell her so.

She winced a little, but her gaze was on the waterfall. “It’s all like a dream…”

“I’m real.” As he peeled off the condom, the words emerged from him with more force than he’d intended. It didn’t matter what he said; if he tried to explain what he was, she wouldn’t believe him, no matter what words he used.

Not that he wanted to tell her. He couldn’t. The Keep was the last stronghold for the Nox Incendi. He wouldn’t risk their existence—precarious as it was—on the passing infatuation of one young human female.

As delectable as she was.

She slanted a sidelong glance at him. “Oh, I know
you’re
real. I’ll have bruises to show for it.”

He drew a breath to apologize—hell, now he was becoming polite because of her; next he’d be asking forgiveness for the treasures he took—but the satisfied purr in her voice told him she didn’t mind. With a growl, he crowded her toward the waterfall.

“Well, if everything else is a dream, there’s no point waking up now,” he said. “It’s after midnight.”

She skipped back from him a step, grinning. “Midnight? Uh oh, are you going to turn into a pumpkin on me? I should run away before you ruin the fantasy for me.”

“I’m not a fan of fairy tales.” He stalked her to the edge of the pool.

“Why not? You’re obviously the handsome prince.”

“No,” he growled. “I’m the beast.”

She laughed. “Same, same.”

Then she squealed as he grabbed her again and lifted her into the pool. She lifted her knees, trying to keep her feet out of the water, and nearly kicked him in the balls.

“No, no, it’s going to be cold,” she yelped. “Don’t you dare drop me!”

He never would.

But he backed her into the waterfall. She clutched at him, stiffening. Until the first droplets hit her.

“It’s warm,” she said wonderingly.

He gave her a smug smile. “Geothermals, remember?”

“Oooh.” She leaned back in his embrace to let the water sheet across her. Despite the heat, her nipples pebbled in sensual delight. He couldn’t stop himself from dipping his head to lick at the aroused flesh, tasting the faint mineral tang of the water and the musk of her sated desire.

She sighed and squirmed, her slick pussy dangerously close to his swelling cock. If he sheathed himself inside her, skin to skin… Reluctantly, he eased her to her feet and let her frolic in the waterfall.

“This is amazing,” she cried. “I could live like this forever.” She spun in a circle, flinging a rainbow arc of spray through the sprinkle lights toward him.

The droplets spattered his skin sharper than acid, her cheerful declaration biting deep.

She must’ve felt his sudden stillness or maybe caught a glimpse of his expression, which he knew he hadn’t controlled fast enough. Because she looked stricken, her dark eyes going wide. She backed into the waterfall as if the clear flow could hide her.

“I mean, not literally, obviously,” she stuttered. “Just for tonight. Er, just for the moment.”

He’d ruined her innocent joy. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin in the classical meaning of the word, but she was so…pure. And he’d marred that, even though he hadn’t shown her his fangs or talons.

Maybe that was for the best. There could be nothing between them anyway—dragon and girl.

Despite its name, in the end, the Keep never truly kept anything.

***

Piper wanted to curl up into a little ball and die. Stay here forever? What a faux pas of one-night stand etiquette!

Judging from the frozen set of Rave’s jaw, he was trying to figure out how to 86 her without too much embarrassment. But here she was naked and wet under his waterfall.

And that wasn’t even a euphemism.

She stepped out of the spray and squeegeed her hands down her body. When his piercing gaze followed the gesture, some devilish part of her couldn’t help but slow down, easing over each curve. Of which she had many, so it took awhile.

And he watched the whoooole time.

Maybe he wanted to kick her out, but she was going to make sure he knew what he was missing. Every little bit of her.

“Uh, I don’t suppose you have a towel in this garden of paradise?”

His eyes snapped up and his brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. Then wordlessly he turned to a cabinet hidden by the vines and presented her with a long, silky robe, black and masculine.

“Will this do?”

She accepted it with a nod, though the material—oh wow, real silk—wasn’t exactly absorbent. From her quick glimpse into the cabinet, there weren’t any other towels or robes.

This
wasn’t
a place he shared with anyone else.

As she wrapped herself almost twice in the silk, she breathed the scent, not musty exactly, but mossy, as if it didn’t get used much. How did he dry himself? Did he just lounge nude in the tropical warmth until the beads of water evaporated?

She licked her lips. How she’d like to see that…

Or maybe he just didn’t come here much, as lovely and fantastical as it was. Which seemed like a waste and unbearably sad at that. But he was obviously done with her, and really, she’d had enough today of people being done with her.

“Piper,” he said.

She whisked over to him and touched his lips, stopping whatever he might say next because the only thing worse than him turning into a pumpkin would be him turning into a jerk. “This was all a dream,” she said. “Thank you.”

When he opened his mouth as if he was still intent on saying something, she pinched his lips together, sort of gently but not too gently.

“Stay right here.” She let him go and stepped back, letting the robe fall from her shoulders. She thrust the damp, body-warmed silk at him. “I want to remember you just like this.”

She turned to her discarded clothes and quickly dressed. The vee neck snagged on her humid skin and the polished denim didn’t want to go up over her booty, as if trying to hold her back. Too bad. Twisting her wet hair into a hard, tight bun, she tried to ignore the droplets snaking down her spine, making her shiver. She hopped on one foot then the other, tugging on her Danskos over her damp feet.

When he took a step toward her, she held out her hand and straightened. “Stay,” she said resolutely. “I can find my own way back.” She spun on her heel, then cast one glance over her shoulder. “But I’m going to take the last of the wine.”

The stunned expression on his face—his blue-gray eyes a little wide, his jaw a little slack—was worth the twinge of regret at leaving him. But she’d have to leave eventually anyway, so better to do it on her terms.

She snagged the Carmenère—boo-hoo, there was hardly any left, not enough to black out the rest of the night—gave him a little goodbye waggle of her fingers and sashayed said booty toward the golden gate.

Should she look back again or not?

Not, she decided. For the sake of her pride if nothing else.