How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (20 page)

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Authors: G. A. Aiken

BOOK: How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
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Smirking, Izzy watched him.
 
 
“Éibhear?”
Fed up, Éibhear spun around to face the unhinged female that he was trapped in this bloody castle with for the night.
“What is—” he just managed to get out before a piece of the broken chair rammed into his leg bone. The pain of it shocked him and he automatically dropped to one knee. Then Izzy was there, her strong hand gripping him by his jaw.
“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” she said.
Then she kissed him.
Not a silly, girlish kiss or even an angry, biting kiss. But a demanding, passionate kiss that tore the breath from his lungs and did to him exactly what he’d always feared. Tore any control or rational thought he’d believed himself to possess completely away from him.
Damn her!
She pulled away first, stepping back, a triumphant smile on her face. “There. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Her tone was unbelievably condescending and superior, which only made him want her even more. Why? Because he was pathetic! He didn’t deserve to be a dragon. The mightiest of higher beings!
The pompous brat stepped away from him, tossing aside the piece of chair she’d used to temporarily incapacitate him.
“Night!” She gave him a little wave that made him hate her a bit and that’s when something in Éibhear snapped. Like the last piece of rope he was hanging on to.
Éibhear stood to his full height and reached out, catching hold of Izzy by her chain-mail shirt and swinging her around until she was in front of him.
“Really?” he asked.
As usual with this insane female, Iseabail the Dangerous showed no fear, no concern, nothing but humor at his expense.
“Really?” she shot back, her arms extending from her body. “Really . . . what are
you
going to do? The great, pious, beloved Éibhear the Blue. What are
you
going to do?”
Éibhear’s grip on her shirt tightened, the little metal rings that made up the protective garment digging into his fingers. And he realized in that moment that he’d have to show Izzy the Dangerous that the “great, pious, beloved Éibhear the Blue” had been dead and gone for a very long time....
Chapter 18
Izzy would be the first to admit that over the years, it was this sort of thing that often got her into the worst sort of trouble. Well . . . her and Brannie. Poor thing. That dragoness had pulled Izzy out of more scrapes that Izzy’s mouth had gotten them into than either would ever care to admit. But Brannie wasn’t here right now and Izzy wasn’t exactly in a situation she didn’t want to be in.
More fool her.
What exactly was wrong with her anyway? Was she still harboring the desires of her sixteen-year-old self? The same girl who had gone from having only three soldiers protecting her as they lived their lives on the road to having an entire family to call her own, including a mother, father, uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents . . . and Éibhear. Handsome, chivalrous, impatient, terse Éibhear.
Well, with her he’d been impatient and terse. With everyone else, he was the wonderful, sweet, adorable Éibhear. The blue dragon everyone loved. But Izzy would be the first to admit, she’d seamlessly moved from loving him to hating him. He’d driven her absolutely insane for years. Hot one second, cold the next.
Of course, at the moment . . . she seemed to have him decidedly hot.
Using his grip on her shirt, he pulled her closer, his gaze locked on her mouth. To be honest, Izzy expected him to do what he always did to her any time they got too close to anything that even hinted at sex. But Izzy wouldn’t pull away first. She wouldn’t let him off the hook. If he was going to walk away, he could walk away. She wouldn’t help him by—
Yanking her up until she was on her toes, Éibhear leaned down and took her mouth with his. Her thoughts tumbled away as his hands released her shirt and moved to her shoulders, shoving her back against the wall, his lips still against hers.
Sure, Izzy could have fought him off. He was a tough challenger, but so was she. But the truth was, Izzy didn’t want to fight him off. All these years, all her long days on patrol thinking about him and what he might be up to and those long nights in her bunk dreaming about him, this was what she’d always wanted.
Well, this and one other thing . . .
And deciding not to wait any longer for that, Izzy did what she’d dreamed of since the very moment she met Éibhear the Blue all those years ago.
She dug her hands into his blue hair and held on.
 
 
Gods, his hair. Not his hair!
All these years he’d never willingly let Izzy near his hair because . . . well, because he was afraid of
this
. Of what was happening right here.
When his mother, or Talaith, stroked his hair, he felt a great sense of comfort and, very often, quite sleepy. But from the first time Iseabail had dug her hands into his mane and demanded he take her flying, his feelings were far from comfortable or sleepy.
And he blamed the damn woman who, at the moment, had her fingers gripping his hair.
His hair!
Éibhear tried to pull her hands away, but Izzy only tightened her grip and kissed him harder. Her tongue slid inside his mouth and Éibhear used his body to pin her against the wall.
There were many things he should be doing. Either pushing her away or seducing her. He did neither. Like some out of control hatchling, he reached for her leggings, gripping them and pushing them down her hips.
He’d have been appalled by his lack of finesse, too, if Izzy hadn’t already beaten him to it, his leggings nearly around his knees.
By the time he got hers down to her knees, she’d already gotten off her boots. Seconds later she’d managed to get out of her leggings completely. One indescribably long leg wrapped around his waist—flexible!—and the other around his calf.
Then, with no thought or even a modicum of self-control, he lifted her just a bit and drove home with one brutal thrust, burying himself inside Izzy and making his cock the happiest thing on the planet!
 
 
Izzy barely managed to bite back a scream of pure pleasure and instead buried her mouth against the flesh between Éibhear’s neck and shoulder. She bit down hard and held on, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, while she tried to stop herself from saying or doing something—anything!—that might destroy whatever self-respect she’d built up for herself over the years.
Because, gods of thunder and suffering, this sudden, rather rude, entertainingly brutal fuck was turning out to be the best one she’d ever had. Without foreplay, without a kind word said between them, without a gods-damn bed!
But Izzy didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything at the moment. Especially once Éibhear started moving, his thrusts hard and merciless, his thick cock buried deep inside her.
She tightened her arms around him and unwrapped her leg from his calf so she could raise it and open herself more to him. She
felt
him growl against her neck where he’d buried his face. He braced his legs farther apart and his strokes became stronger, harder, his cock powering inside her.
Izzy began to shake, her grip on him becoming even tighter. So tight, she was grateful he wasn’t human. Grateful she wouldn’t have to revive him from strangulation or take him to a healer for broken bones.
The trembling began in her toes and raced up her legs and spine, spreading out through her body until an orgasm like she’d never felt before exploded from her, her screams lost against Éibhear’s neck.
 
 
When her entire body clenched around him and she screamed into his neck, Éibhear’s knees almost buckled and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
Then he came. Hard. Harder than he ever had before. So hard, he almost blasted the wall behind them with flame, and he had to fight hard to control the urge, not wanting to burn Izzy while in the throes of passion. That just seemed rude.
When he got the feeling back in his legs, Éibhear realized he had his leggings down around his ankles and his still-hard cock inside a half-naked and panting Iseabail.
A situation many might consider . . . awkward.
Chapter 19
Éibhear started to place her down on the table but seemed to reconsider that and pulled a large cloth from his travel bag, put it on the table, then carefully placed her naked ass on his uncle’s furniture. Once he had her there, he slowly backed up—and out—until he could sit down beside her.
And that’s what they did. They sat there, staring off at the wall across from them. In silence, they went on like that until Izzy couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Well . . . we got that out of our system.”
“Aye. That we did.”
“And now we can move forward.”
“Right.”
“Great.” Without looking at him, she reached over and patted his shoulder. “Glad we took care of that.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see him nod, but he still didn’t say anything. She was grateful. The last thing she needed at the moment was talk. Real talk anyway. She didn’t want to analyze what had just happened between them. She didn’t want to look for anything deeper and she definitely didn’t want to start talking regrets. Instead, she wanted the glow from that orgasm to last as long as it could and that meant no deep conversation with Éibhear and his deep thoughts.
Deciding escape was her best plan at the moment—as a general, she always knew when to retreat—Izzy slid off the table. “I’m off then. Dinner was great.”
She crouched down—she was not about to bend over—and picked up the rest of her clothes and walked toward those damn stairs again. The stairs she couldn’t quite manage to actually get up. Even now!
“You know . . .”
Izzy stopped at the sound of Éibhear’s voice, her eyes closing in frustration, her hand gripping the banister. Her escape . . . so close! “Aye?” And she tried hard to keep the dread out of her voice.
“Look, I’m thinking—”
Oh, no. Please don’t think.
“—since we’re not going back tonight—”
Gods, please. I don’t want to spend all night talking about this one gods-damn fuck.
“—maybe we should really be sure—”
I always get trapped with the emotional ones. And this time it’s all my fault!
“—we’ve really gotten it out of our system.”
See? I
knew
he would do . . . wait. What?
Izzy faced him. “What?”
 
 
Don’t look down. Don’t look down.
Éibhear knew if he started staring at her pussy, his eyes would stay locked and then his mouth would be right there. So it was best to stare at her face. Although the look of astonishment she had at the moment made it hard not to laugh.
“What do you mean,” she pushed, “see if we’ve gotten it out of our system?”
He shrugged, trying to look as casual as possible. The worst thing he could do with Iseabail was show her how desperate he felt at the moment. And gods, he was desperate. Desperate to be back inside her. The need was crawling up his spine and beginning to eat at his brain.
His poor beleaguered brain that was working hard at the moment to focus on her face.
“Well, once is usually a good idea. Yet sometimes one starts wondering if perhaps there should have been more and then it becomes this obsession again, but by then it’s just too awkward.”
“And you want to—”
“Since we have all night . . .” Éibhear shrugged and slid off the table. He kicked off his boots and leggings—thankfully before he’d tripped over them and made a complete fool of himself—and walked over to Izzy. “It makes sense, don’t you think? A few more times. Just to be sure, of course.”
She eyed him and he didn’t know what to make of that look. So he kept his mouth shut. He was glad of it, too, when she asked, “Will we have to talk?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
“And it’s just to get this out of our system, yeah? Nothing else?”
“Nothing else.”
All right, that last bit might have been a huge lie, but he could see that Izzy could go either way at the moment. She could wrap her legs around his head or make a run for it.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he suggested, keeping his voice as casual as he could manage even while his cock pointed at the bloody ceiling.
When she gazed off, her mouth one tight line—she was clearly debating with herself—Éibhear decided to help her out. He slipped one arm around her waist and with his free hand took the clothes from her, tossing them onto his travel bag.
“It’s not like we have anything better to do tonight.”
Her smile was small but there. Even better, when he pulled off her shirt, her nipples were hard and she’d begun to pant.
Izzy swallowed and asked, “Just to get this out of our system. We won’t have to discuss this tomorrow or anything, will we?”
For Éibhear, there was nothing to discuss.
“No. We won’t have to discuss it tomorrow.”
“Yeah, well . . . all right . . . uh . . .” Éibhear leaned down and sucked Izzy’s nipple into his mouth. “Gods,” he heard her sigh out as her fingers slid into his hair again and held on.
 
 
Fearghus looked up from his book and watched his mate pace back and forth in front of him. He’d brought them to his cave tonight because he could tell she’d needed some time away from life at Garbhán Isle. Dark Plains was their refuge and, if he was to be honest, the refuge for those at Garbhán Isle when their human queen became . . . tense.
And Annwyl had been getting tenser and tenser every day for quite a few months now. Not that he blamed her. He knew what had her worried and he was equally as worried, but he was also realistic.
There were just some things they could do nothing about.
“You’re going to wear a hole in that rock floor.”
She stopped and faced him. “Why aren’t you worried? Why don’t you care? This seems to be
your
precious daughter they’re targeting.”
“They’re not targeting—”
“What would you call it? Seducing?”
Fearghus sighed and set his book aside. He lowered his head so that it rested on the inside of his claw while he tapped the talons of the other.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded, hands on her hips.
“I’m waiting for you to have your explosion of rage, so that when you’re done, I can talk to you like a rational dragon. I gave up long ago trying to talk over your screaming, my love.”
She folded her arms under her chest. “They’re trying to steal our daughter from us, Fearghus.”
“You know as well as I that no one can make Talwyn do anything she doesn’t want to do. That includes the Kyvich.”
“They’re trying to lure her away from the safety of her people. Away from her brother and cousin.”
“Away from you, you mean?”
“I’m the only one who can protect her!” Annwyl bellowed, pointing at herself. “There’s no one else who can protect her like I can!”
“You mean besides Talwyn herself?”
“I
knew
you’d throw that in my face.”
“You were the one who taught her to protect herself. You also taught the boy.”
“Can’t you call him by his name?”
“He irritated me today.”
“He irritates you every day.”
“Do you expect me to argue that point?”
“You know, our son really does—”
“Does? Does what?”
“Tolerate you more than others.”
“Thank you. I find that comforting when I wake up from an afternoon nap and find him hovering over me like an angel of death.”
“You’re being paranoid. But let’s be honest.”
“Oh, please let’s.”
“Talan is my son and Talwyn is
your
daughter.”
“Which means?”
“That you should be the one to talk to her.”
“I have.”
Annwyl stepped closer. “And?”
“She didn’t tell me anything she hasn’t already told you. But I know her, Annwyl. There’s something going on.”
“I knew it!”
“But there’s nothing to be done. She’s stubborn and contrary and determined . . . just like her mum. So I wouldn’t bother arguing with her.”
“I am
not
contrary.”
His eyes crossed and he rolled onto his back. “Of course you’re not.”
“I heard sarcasm in that statement.”
“Perhaps.” He motioned to her. “Come here, luv.”
Annwyl walked closer until she reached his open claw. She climbed onto that, then up his arm and onto his chest until she could stretch out stomach down, her head right under his snout. As always, she showed no fear of his dragonform.
“You know,” he reasoned, “instead of sitting around, worrying about things that may or may not be happening, why don’t you go do something that you might enjoy?”
She planted her hands against his chest and lifted herself up enough that she could look him in the eye. Then she grinned.
“I meant something relaxing with the children.”
“Oh.” She lowered herself back down.
“What I plan to do to you tonight will only be relaxing after we’re done.”
“Good to know.” Annwyl laughed and stroked her hands across his scales, something that Fearghus had always adored. “All right, so what should I do with the children? As it is, they’re never around.”
“Plan something for tomorrow, so they don’t have time to come up with an excuse, and start with Rhi. She always ropes in the other two. And bring that pale boy who’s been lurking around.”
“His name’s Frederik, and from what I hear he’ll be staying for a while.”
“Perfect. Take them for a picnic or something.”
“Will you come?”
“I’m off to Devenallt Mountain tomorrow with Gwenvael and Briec to meet with Bercelak.”
“Anything wrong?”
“No, not at all. Just time to look at Mum’s armies and see if we should be doing anything different. At least that’s the plan. What it really ends up being is Dad and Briec arguing, me sighing a lot, and Gwenvael pissing Dad off so much that at some point he has to duck a tail to the eye. To be honest, I’d rather be on a picnic with the pale boy.”
Annwyl rested her chin on her raised fist. “No Éibhear?”
“No Éibhear what?”
“He’s not coming to this meeting?”
“Why should he? He’s not in Mum’s army. He’s a Mì-runach.”
“I really don’t know what that means, although you all say it with that mix of disgust and horror in your voices.”
“It means he’s a violent bastard that can’t be trusted around the army. So, no. He won’t be there.”
“Personally, I think you’re all too hard on him. You’re still treating him like a baby. He’s a grown dragon now, Fearghus. Quite matured.”
“Yeah,” Fearghus snorted, not really seeing it. “Right. Quite matured.”
 
 
Izzy reached out blindly, her hand pressing against the stone wall of the room she always slept in any time she’d come to visit her Uncle Bram with Brannie. But to be honest, at this moment, she really had no idea where she was, why she was here, or even what her name was. At this moment, all she knew was that it was a stone wall her hand was pressing against and the biggest, most talented cock she’d ever had inside her was making her come. Again.
Her toes curled, and her hard breaths turned into a short scream, her body tightening around the male currently on top of her, kissing her, fucking her.
She hadn’t known it would be like this. She’d
dreamed
it would be like this, but she’d never thought it actually would be. Too many times, Izzy, Brannie, and often Brannie’s sisters talked about the potential some male had one day and the sad disappointment he turned out to be the next. Sometimes, one of them might be pleasantly surprised or damn happy. But this?
Gods, this . . .
Izzy tore her mouth away from Éibhear’s because she couldn’t breathe, that orgasm still ripping through her system. But pulling away was a mistake because Éibhear took the opportunity to nip the side of her neck. Something that she secretly adored. And, gods, once he’d discovered that, if she didn’t find other uses for his mouth, he drove her insane with the gods-damn nipping.
Whimpering, her body shaking, Izzy felt Éibhear bite down on a spot right beneath her ear and somehow, some way, the bastard got another orgasm out of her when the last one hadn’t quite finished.
As Izzy screamed out again, she was so glad that when this was all over, they wouldn’t be talking about it. They wouldn’t be analyzing it. Because if she thought about any of this too much, she’d end up back where she started at sixteen. Head over boots for a big blue bastard with gorgeous blue hair who couldn’t make up his bloody mind about what he wanted.

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