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Authors: Jory Strong

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Her tiny sigh of pleasure tempted him to
unzip right there and feel her lips on his cock. A shudder of pleasure rippled
through him at imagining it, and just as quickly, he felt a tingling at the
insides of his wrists where his mating spurs lay in hidden sheaths.

“Let me pleasure you, Master,” she
whispered, closing the distance between them, nuzzling him through the fabric
of his trousers, the heat of her breath making his buttocks clamp and the twin
rings beneath his cock head fight the magic that kept them flattened.

“No.”

She whimpered at hearing his denial and he
nearly did the same.

He fisted her hair. “No,” he repeated. A
warning against defying him and a demand she cease her continued nuzzling.

His cock throbbed in agonized protest at
the loss of contact, a searing reminder of the reason this club served a
purpose. The audience of humans made it easier to stay in this form during
sexual play, though tonight it would be a battle to do so.

“Stand. Lock up your things. My cousin will
have found us a table by now.”

She rose, graceful, captivating beauty, and
he watched, drinking in the sight of her obedience, her exquisite nakedness
interrupted only by the body jewelry she wore—and the cursed necklace.

He blockaded his anger. Possession had long
been the law when it came to treasure. She was here. She was his. He would view
the possibility of some human’s claim on her as a nuisance, a challenge to his
patience. Nothing more.

An outstretched hand and she gave him the
key, further mollifying him with the show of trust and the knowledge she
couldn’t easily escape the club.

“Precede me.” He could no more require her
to walk behind him than he could allow her out of his sight.

They left the dressing room, moments later
passing through a door and into an area encompassing three-walled dungeons and
theme rooms as well as an open space with a variety of equipment. All were
within easy view and walking distance from any number of cozy seating
arrangements, while above on glass-fronted balconies, a bar operated and those
preferring to drink and watch enjoyed the play beneath them.

Moans and screams were just two of the
sounds very much in evidence in the busy play area. They were accompanied by a
variety of scents associated with sex.

Along the back of his neck, the phantom
crest of his first form lifted and fell. He nearly laughed out loud with
joy—apparently his mate wasn’t the only treasure in the club this night. One of
the humans possessed a powerful magical artifact, probably disguised as
jewelry, possibly decorating the handle of a knife or whip, given the fetish
wear and general lack of clothing.

He scanned the area without noting anyone
more likely to have the artifact than another. No matter, Nisien was capable of
hunting it.

More than a few slaves and submissives were
attached to leashes. Jubal’s hand dropped to the pocket containing the flat
jewelry case. Once the necklace was placed on Summer’s neck, it would lock and
only he would be able to remove it, that much of this lifestyle he’d embraced
fully.

He could have the piece modified for the
attachment of a leash, but he saw little need for it. As soon as he took her to
the dragon realm they’d be bound by magic.

Her skin would be marked by a magical
manifestation of his first form. He’d be able to touch her thoughts then, as
she’d be able to do his. Communication would no longer require the spoken word.

He traced the elegant line of her spine
with a fingertip, felt her shiver, her steps slowing as if she could coax more
from him than just that small amount of contact. Satisfaction deepened the
heated need already pooling in his testicles, increasing their weight and size
so his clothing became a greater aggravation.

He placed the flat of his palm between her
shoulder blades, gaining pleasure from the touch before stroking downward,
imagining a silver-and-gold dragon covering her back as he intended to cover
her, mounting her first in this constructed human form and then in his natural
state.

His cock thickened, challenging the magic
hiding its true length and girth, the tip already wet in anticipation of having
to work to get into his mate’s tight sheath. Submission radiated off her,
stirring his desire to protect. Her scent grew lusher as she arched like a
kitten being stroked.

Subtly he directed her toward where Nisien
sat, nearly purring at how well attuned she was to his smallest direction.
Until the merest tensing of her body revealed that, with head ducked and body
responding to Jubal, she’d nevertheless been scanning the area, looking for
someone, finding him. Another master.

Satisfied pleasure turned into a gnashing
of teeth. Jubal’s nostrils flared at seeing the leather-clad blond, at
witnessing the quick flash of desire on the other man’s face when he noticed
Summer’s presence before his attention returned to the male submissive he was
apparently playing with for the night.

Fire coursed through Jubal’s veins. It
burned its way down to his palm and he intended to transfer the heat of it to
her buttocks. She was light enough skinned that her flesh would bear the
evidence of the punishment she thoroughly deserved.

She dared to look for another when she was
with him! When he’d made his demands clear she was his exclusive property!

Nisien’s eyebrows lifted as they drew near.
“Already dissatisfied with your prize?”

Jubal scorched him with a glance then sat.

Like Nisien, he saw no need for latex or
leather and any other fetish wear in order to get into the correct frame of
mind when at Chains. And like Nisien, he preferred the elegance of suits,
especially on this night when he had set out to Drake’s Lair with the prospect
of gaining a mate.

He jerked Nisien’s discarded suit jacket
from the chair back and folded it to create a cushion on the floor for Summer.

Nisien’s snort nearly had him sending his
cousin away.

“Kneel, Summer. Facing me, head bowed.”

He had no intention of allowing her to
sneak glances at another man. Nor did he miss the way the blond maneuvered his
playmate closer to where Summer knelt in front of the only master who would
matter to her from now on.

“Beautiful,” Nisien said, admiring her
ready obedience as well as her form.

Where the blond human’s lust had Jubal
fighting to suppress a gout of flame, having Nisien’s gaze linger on her
breasts before dropping to her bare pussy only heightened his lust for his
mate—his wayward mate.

Jubal opened one of the two bags Nisien had
carried in after parking the car, searched and found what he looked for, nipple
clamps attached to a chain. Straightening, he rested his hand on his thigh,
letting the clamps dangle where she could see them, dragon-sharp hearing
allowing him to catch her soft inhalation of anticipation.

His cock throbbed. He hungered to draw her
pouty dark areolas into his mouth one at a time, to suckle them thoroughly with
hard pulls so they’d become sensitive and swollen before he placed the clamps.
If not for her actions he would have pulled her onto his lap, her thighs
straddling his. He would have pleasured her, prepared her himself.

Instead he said, “Play with your nipples.
Ready them for the clamps.”

Her lips trembled. A glance upward sought
the reason for his command, looked for displeasure. He hid it behind a stern
expression, found a measure of calm by reminding himself that she was here. She
was his. And he would view the blond’s presence as a nuisance, a challenge to
his patience. Nothing more.

Her hands went to her breasts, exquisitely
feminine fingers settling on her nipples, a soft whimper escaping as she
obeyed, gaining her master’s attention, his approval, his forgiveness.

Jubal’s need to bury himself in his mate’s
body grew. He felt each pump and squeeze, each rub of her thumbs across her
nipples as if her hand gripped his cock, sliding up and down its length,
caressing the head and urging him to come.

“Widen your thighs,” he ordered, the sight
of arousal-slick flesh and the heady wash of scent when she did becoming more
than he could resist.

He leaned forward, trailed his fingers over
her smooth mound, pausing at her hood piercing to press and rub the tiny balls
against her clitoris.

She whimpered, hips jerking, the small
nerve-and-blood-filled nub emerging further, swelling and stiffening with his
touch.

“So responsive,” Nisien said. “I nearly
envy you, Cousin.”

Her breathing quickened, her back arched.
“You please me greatly,” Jubal said, savoring the way she pushed into his hand
and gave a soft cry when he slid a finger inside her, his cock spasming at the
tight heat and wet clasp of her channel.

He fucked into her, adding a second finger,
building the need to be filled by his cock. Ceasing only when she was flushed
and nearing climax.

“No, Master, please don’t stop,” she
whispered as he pulled his fingers from her. And the words were like strands of
magic wrapping themselves around his heart and soul.

It was all he could do not to pull her onto
his lap, so great was the need to hold her against him, to surround her with
dragon heat and caress her bare skin as he took her lips. But the clamps
dangling from his hand were a reminder of purpose, as was their audience.

He directed his attention to her left
breast. “Elongate your nipple.”

She did as commanded and he fastened the
clamp on it. Watching her closely, determining by scent and expression when
he’d reached that edge between pleasure and pain before moving to her right
breast and adorning it with a clamp.

He caught the chain up in his fist. Light
glanced off the sapphire eyes of the heavy gold-and-silver dragon ring he wore
so others of his kind would know the colors of his first form.

Wariness laced her scent, her concern as it
should be in a delicious little submissive.

Nisien pushed from his chair. “Your find
has inspired me to see what treasure I might locate here.”

Attuned to Summer’s slightest movement,
Jubal caught the way she tensed and looked quickly toward the play area, as if
she feared his cousin might choose the human she’d followed here.

A sharp tug on the chain served as a
reprimand, snapping her back to the master she belonged to. Did she truly
believe the blond could pleasure her as thoroughly as he could? She’d soon
learn there was no comparison between a human male and a dragon male.

It had taken him decades to come to
appreciate the comfort of fine clothing against his skin, tailor-made garments
that provided a sensory experience, though he’d never learned to tolerate
boxers or briefs or any manner of restraint when it came to his cock and
testicles.

He unzipped and his cock sprang free. It
pulled away from his body, knowing where it belonged and desperate to get there
as her tongue darted out to wet a delectable mouth.

She ate him with her eyes and he didn’t
demand that she concentrate on the small triangle of floor between the chair
and where she knelt with his legs on either side of her. Arousal glistened on
the tip of his cock head, like nectar meant to draw a mate’s lips when he was
too lazy to command it.

Need pulsed through the swollen organ in
time with his heartbeat. He clamped a fist around his shaft, stroked the length
of it, using the chain to send a flare of sensation through her breasts that he
hoped matched the heat scorching through his cock.

He nearly panted each time the edge of his
hand contacted the still-hidden twin ridges meant to stimulate a female dragon
into ovulating. Heat fanned through his body. A hunger that would only
temporarily be appeased each time he came inside his mate, or marked her skin
with the hot wash of his seed.

Jubal could feel others watching them. He
knew if he looked up he would find the blond staring, and that knowledge
intensified the flames of possessiveness even as it made him more determined to
eradicate Summer’s desire for any other, to punish her in a way that would
drive the message home. From now on, he was the only male worthy of her
attention—and he claimed all of it.

He continued to stroke himself though it
was torturous ecstasy to have her only inches away, trembling with the desire
to succor him with the wet heat of her mouth and the pull of her lips. Her small
whimpers were driving him mad, as was the glistening arousal on the inside of
her thighs.

“Please, Master,” she whispered. “Let me
attend to your needs.”

“You?” He let her hear the growl in his
voice. “A slave whose desire is already in question? A slave whose attention
wanders to another?”

Chapter Three

 

Summer flinched. Wariness morphed to
trepidation and her heart slammed against her chest.

Her gaze flicked from the hand wrapped
around his erection to the one holding the silver chain. A shiver took her,
uncontrolled at seeing the dragon ring.

How had she missed it? A slight tug,
sending painful pleasure screaming from nipples to clit, answered the question.

Need had blinded her even to the
possibility that he might be the very thing Kei warned her about.
No. Please
no. Let the ring just be a piece of jewelry of no significance, and the
treasure Nisien sought a submissive to enjoy for the evening
.

A tug delivered a sharper ache, this one
spearing through her stomach and making her cunt clench as it reminded her she
hadn’t yet responded to his charge.

She couldn’t defend herself against the
accusation that her attention had wandered, but against his other claim…

He couldn’t really believe her desire was
in question, not with arousal streaming from her slit and her clit emerging,
stiffened because of his attention and craving more of it.

“I desire no other but you, Master.”

He leaned in aggressively, his nearness
swamping her with heat and exotic scent, trapping her in coils of need.

“Let me prove the honesty of my desire for
you,” she whispered.

“Honesty?”

His voice promised she’d have no secrets by
the time he was done with her.

She couldn’t let that happen. Trust
couldn’t extend beyond her body, at least not tonight. She dared to place her
hands on his thighs. The muscles were smooth steel beneath his trousers.

Unbidden, the image of him in dragon form
filled her mind. A silver-and-gold beast with sapphire eyes crouched on a high
rocky ledge, ready to leap in a powerful, merciless assault, ready to swoop down
on his female and cover her, thrust into her.

She shivered, turned on by the image of
that ultimate domination. Once Kei had his star ball back…

The only thing of value she owned was
herself.

She didn’t fear Jubal, didn’t fear
belonging to him if he was a dragon, if myth held reality when it came to their
possessiveness. He would be the ultimate master.

Desire pulsed between them, tightening
elegant masculine features into a predatory expression. He radiated power, a
sensual menace that had her womb fluttering and more blood flowing to her labia
and clit.

Erotic images of dragons and human women,
artwork she’d seen at a fantasy convention that she’d gone to with a friend and
internalized without being conscious of it, drifted to the surface, becoming Jubal
and her. If he hadn’t ordered her thighs open, she would have squeezed them
together, capturing heat and throbbing need.

Her gaze returned to his cock. Another bead
of arousal escaped the slit in its head. She wet her lips, craving his taste as
thoroughly as his touch.

His fingers clamped on his erection and she
took pride in the reaction, in the knowledge that, displeased or not, he wanted
her. She slid her hands upward on his thighs, anticipating the weight of his
balls, the soft velvet of his cock, the heated spiciness of him coating her
tongue.

“Stop.” Terse command issued on a low
growl. “Look at my face.”

She obeyed, anxious stillness filling her.

He closed more of the distance between
them. Their breaths mingled. Their scents. The barest movement and their lips
would touch.

She wanted it desperately. With a hunger
made fiercer because he’d not yet covered her mouth and demanded entry with the
thrust of his tongue.

“Who is he to you?” Jubal asked, softly
enough so his words didn’t carry beyond the two of them.

The slam of her heartbeat against her chest
quickened, growing in volume so she wouldn’t be surprised if he heard it. Lying
wasn’t an option, not to this man she wanted for a master despite knowing he
might not be human.

“He’s nothing. A nobody.” Simple truth held
deeply so it resonated, though neither his expression nor the tight grip on the
chain eased.

“Yet you came here because of him.”

“Yes.”

“You would have called him Master had I not
arrived to stake my claim.”

Heart and soul curled into a trembling ball
inside her. “Not Master.” Not unless there was no avoiding it in order to
recover the star ball. “I’d call him Sir,” she whispered, hoping the
distinction would matter to Jubal even as she fought the urge to assure herself
that Miles hadn’t left the club.

She dared move her hand on Jubal’s thighs
again, hoping to draw his attention back to his hardened cock and away from the
subject of Miles. “You’re the only one I want to call Master. Let me ease you.”

“No.” Denial and rebuke at the same time.

She whimpered when he released the chain to
tuck his cock back into his trousers, locking it away from her with the tug of
a zipper.

“He’s nothing,” she repeated, pleading
tones in her voice, for understanding, for patience though she didn’t volunteer
anything else.

“So you’ll leave now? Meet at another club
if you refuse to get in a car alone with me or take this private?”

She could practically feel him willing her
to choose the latter. Knew her answer would only make things worse.

“No,” she whispered.

His nostrils flared with displeasure.

“Stand,” Jubal said on a low growl, burned
by his mate’s obvious lack of trust and determined to assure himself that he
had all her attention before he lost himself in the pleasure of her mouth.

She obeyed, the picture of sultry
submission, though the illusion of it was shattered the instant he ordered her
to turn and he caught her subtle scanning of the play area.

Did she think him blind? Had their
conversation made no impression?

Jubal’s jaw clenched and in his mind the
grind of teeth sounded like the shifting of earth along a fault line. By the
Great Shared Ancestor, she tested his patience. He held his breath, not daring
to exhale for fear a gout of flame would be caught by those paid to closely
monitor what went on inside the club as a safety precaution.

He reached into the bag and removed a
weight to add to the clamp chain. Standing, he gripped her neck, his hand just
above the collar-like necklace he wanted to rip from her body. He told himself
he touched her only to ratchet up Summer’s anxiety as to what lay in store, and
not because he craved the contact, not because he needed to demonstrate to some
human male that she belonged to him.

He guided her to a square torso-length
bondage table and stopped next to it. “Lie down. On your back.”

She obeyed, knees bent, anticipating what
he would require of her with feet touched close to her buttocks and thighs
splayed. The sight of her swollen folds and glistening slit trapped his gaze,
very nearly drawing his mouth to her pussy. He wanted to shove his tongue into
her tight slit and fuck her with it until she screamed and bathed him in her
orgasm.

His cock spasmed and more of the magic
restricting its size and appearance fell away. She was dangerous to his
control. Worse, while she held him with the sight of her beautifully darkened
cunt, she might very well be looking for the human male.

The thought freed him from her carnal
snare. It was time for his mate to care only about the male who’d claimed her
for his own.

He bound her wrists at her sides, then
placed Velcro cuffs around her thighs before pushing them toward her shoulders
and clipping them in that position, leaving her exposed and vulnerable,
tethering her so she could be safely explored.

The traces of erotic fear flickering in the
depths of her eyes fed primitive desires, to have his female at his mercy
though he was incapable of harming her, despite being very capable of hurting
her in a way that brought pleasure and deepened trust.

Her helplessness aided in his battle to
control the magic, lest it give way completely and he take his first form in
this human realm. Not since he was a fledgling had he struggled so with the
very basics.

His
.
Satisfaction surged through him. Her gaze was on him, a pleading for her master’s
touch.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Master.”

He placed his hands on her thighs and felt
her strain to lift her buttocks off the table, as if to bring her pussy closer
to his mouth. He stroked satin-smooth skin, breathed deeply, wanting to wallow
in the scent and taste of his mate’s body.

Her labia grew more flushed, darkened in
color. She wore a simple piece of jewelry in her clitoris hood as well as in
her navel and nipples. In the future he would replace all of them with pieces
of his own choosing, something holding chips of sapphire to match that in his
ring.

Mine
. It
resonated throughout him, claiming every cell, every intention, all of his
being. And he would accept no less than total surrender from her, total trust.

“You will not come until I give you
permission to do so.”

Her thighs quivered beneath his hands.
“Yes, Master.”

Arousal left her exposed slit in a wet
trail that slid across her anus. He stared at that dark hole, contemplated
retrieving a plug from the bag then just as quickly discarded the idea for the
moment, possibly the night, given the intensity of his desire to penetrate
every orifice with his cock first before using a substitute.

Now that he had her bound, he found it
possible to stave off baser desires and the rush to satisfy them, to rein in a
dragon’s instinct to pounce. He could savor her, and in the process assure
himself he had her complete and utter attention.

His hands left her thighs and pleasure
purred through him at her whimpered protest. Moving closer, he leaned over her,
bracing himself against the table with palms placed on either side of her head.

The position allowed her to feel the brush
of his clothing against her naked skin, a reminder of her vulnerability and his
control. “You are beautiful,” he murmured, lips only inches away from hers. His
satisfaction deepened at the way her breath caught, her eyes dilating as she
strained upward. “But I have a feeling you aren’t, at heart, very obedient.”

“I am,” she whispered, tensing beneath him
in case he chose to punish her for either speaking or contradicting him.

There were those who preferred their
submissives to remain quiet, and perhaps he would be wise to demand it of her
because he was already far too enthralled by his mate. But he didn’t want
complete silence, not when he drank in every sound she made.

“I have not seen much evidence of it so
far.”

He closed the small distance, swallowing
her little cry of pleasure with the touch of his lips to hers, a light press so
she was forced to strain against the bindings in order to gain her master’s
kiss.

He moaned at the first taste of her, at how
she obviously struggled not to thrust her tongue against his, but to wait for
him to initiate the twine and rub, the sensual mimicking of a cock’s
penetration.

Her breasts, hard-capped with taut nipples,
jewelry and clamps, brushed against his shirt. He felt her jerk at the contact,
could well imagine the fiery streaks tearing through her abdomen to reach her
clit. She whimpered, yet with each subtle movement of his body she strained
upward, nipples tight against his chest in a bid for attention.

He made her wait, as he’d waited centuries
to find her, his kisses a slow, thorough exploration rather than aggressive
plundering.

He captured her bottom lip, sucked along
its length before letting her feel the hint of teeth, the promise of a bite
that would soon mark her skin—not that he needed such a primitive thing for
other dragons to know she belonged to him. They’d scent him on her, but more
importantly, would read the truth of it in her body’s response to him.

“Please,” she begged prettily, daring a
quick dart of her tongue into his mouth.

Her boldness suited him. In the world she
would soon be made aware of, strength had always been valued.

“Please what?”
Beloved.

Her tongue plunged into his mouth,
demanding this time, and he straightened away from her. It was far too soon to
allow the action to go unpunished.

“I’m sorry, Master.”

Sorry for the loss of contact,
that
he believed, but not the act itself. His gaze fell on the offending locket and
it was he who surreptitiously scanned the area and found the blond close by,
positioned where Summer couldn’t see him.

Fire raced up Jubal’s throat. The
possibility of it erupting had him leaning forward, one hand capturing the
clamp chain as the other braced against the bondage table to support him as his
lips took hers in a pour of dragon’s flame, the aggressive thrust of his tongue
matched to tugs on the nipple clamps.

Summer’s hips jerked violently. God, it
felt so good. Pleasure and pain. Scorching heat and an intensity of sensation
that made her feel alive in a way nothing else could, even riding a barrel
wave.

Arousal gushed from her slit and need
pulsed through her clit. She strained against the restraints, muscles already
burning. The helplessness turning her on. The painful pleasure centered in her
nipples and pulsing downward to her cunt forcing her inward, driving extraneous
cares from her thoughts and stripping away layers of civilization until she
became primitive woman, a sensual, sexual being in rut and only interested in
the strongest, fiercest male, the one who would accept nothing less than total
surrender.

She cared only about Jubal’s touch, about
staving off her release until he ordered her to come. About obeying and
pleasing him.

She cried in protest when his lips left
hers, only to shiver in anticipation when they touched her belly, delivering
heated kisses and sucking bites.

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