Rion (5 page)

He snorted.

“There’s a chain on the door.” She pulled off her own shirt, unhooked her bra. And then boldly lifted her breast and puckered
nipple toward his mouth. “Kiss me.”

With a soft growl, he lowered his head, sucked her nipple into his mouth. Hard. But his tongue swirled the tip with delicious,
delicate circles that had her clutching his back, digging her fingers into his muscles.

As he sipped and sucked, her breath came in pants. Her flesh slickened with sweat. Her hearts threatened to beat their way
out of her chest.

Marisa hadn’t made love in years. Not since she’d become a dragonshaper. So she didn’t know if her fierce response to Rion
was due to her new blood. Or to him.

At the moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond feeling, touching, kissing. All her senses focused on him. His hands
on her body, his scent in her lungs, his tongue on her nipple.

Arching her back, straining, she offered him her other breast. He lavished it with the same hungry skill, until she thought
she might come from that alone. But he rolled from the sofa, his big hands guiding her to her feet, and then he peeled down
her jeans.

He explored her belly button with his tongue, swirled lower until he licked the edge of her panties. Oh, God. She swallowed
hard as the dizzying heat from his mouth made her breathless with desire.

Inch by inch, he tugged down her panties, kissing, nipping, until he blew softly on her curls. When he nuzzled apart her thighs,
she quivered in anticipation. And then he began to lick his way up the scales on her legs.

Her scales rumbled in wave after wave of pleasure, leaving her panting, needy, aching. “Rion. Hurry. Please, hurry.”

He licked her ankles, her calves, the insides of her thighs. And just when she thought he was about to place his mouth where
she desired him most, a key grated in the front door’s lock.

The door opened, but the chain held.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Lucan and Cael.” She started to reach for her jeans.

Rion held her in place. “They can’t see us from the door.”

Between his hands spanning her butt and his knees preventing her from closing her legs, he’d made it impossible for her to
move, never mind dress.

Her voice choked on exasperation and disappointment. “Give me my clothes.”

A smile played at the corner of his lips. “No.”

“No?” Panic shot through her. Followed by a tiny thrill of excitement. She was standing there naked in her brother’s living
room.

“Marisa,” her brother called out, “the chain’s still on the door.”

Rion caressed Marisa’s soft folds. At the same time, he spoke calmly to Lucan. “Come back in ten minutes.”

“Rion, is that you?” her brother asked. “Where’s my sister?”

“Occupied.” Rion’s big hands tightened on her bottom, and he replaced his finger with his tongue.

Oh… my. She couldn’t think beyond wanting more. Rion’s tongue flicked wickedly. She began to shake. Couldn’t hold back a moan.
“Ah… Oh…”

“Marisa.” Lucan’s tone sharpened. “Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Marisa whimpered. Rion’s tongue flicked faster, making it almost impossible to speak. But somehow, she forced words
out. “Go awayyyy,” she told her twin, barely keeping a moan from her voice.

Cael laughed. “We’ll give you ten minutes.”

“We will not,” her brother protested. “And don’t think this silly chain will prevent me from—”

“We’re leaving now,” Cael called out. “I’ll keep him busy.”

The door shut.

Rion kept stoking the heat between her thighs. He felt so good. Her legs trembled. Her scales vibrated, and pressure built
and built.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He increased the tempo. Upped the friction.

She exploded right into his mouth and had to clamp shut her lips to deaden the scream. Pleasure strong and sharp consumed
her, shook her, racked her with spasm after spasm. And she rode the wave to the end, taking in every last rift and eddy.

When she opened her eyes, Rion grinned and with a sparkle in his eyes he shoved her clothes into her hands. “You’ve got two
minutes.”

“But”—she glanced at the bulge in his pants—“what about you—”

“I can wait.”

His words implied there would be a next time, and warm, happy heat flowed over her. “You sure?”

“The first time I’m inside you isn’t going to be a rush job.” His gray eyes glinted pure silver. “I plan to take my time.”

That sounded like a very good plan. A plan she could look forward to. Who would have thought that after years of being alone,
she could feel so alive again?

She might have felt like skipping and singing, but she dressed quickly, then opened the door, bracing for her brother’s wrath.
But to her relief, Lucan and Cael still hadn’t returned.

Good. She and Rion would have another few moments of privacy.

“You were wonderful.” Standing on her tiptoes, she threw her arms around Rion’s neck, fully intending to kiss him.

But before her mouth touched his, he staggered sideways. Had he stumbled? No. Rejected her? No.

He clutched his arm almost as if it were broken, his face racked in terrible pain. His lips twisted into a grimace, and she
suspected that if he hadn’t clutched the wall, he would have fallen.

“Rion?” Totally baffled, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” His voice raspy, his eyes glazed with pain, he yanked from her touch, staggered toward his room. “I have to… go.”

The truth lies somewhere between Earth, Pendragon, and Honor.

—A
NONYMOUS

W
ith the sting of a million wasps, fiery pain burned through Rion. His tormented muscles jerked. The pain-induced blindness
had him certain he was about to pass out, but he staggered into his room and closed the door before he collapsed.

Agonizing jolts of energy ripped through his system. Blinding blasts of purple fired his optic nerves. He jerked on the floor,
his limbs spasming. Sweat broke out under his arms and across his chest, then streamed down his neck.

Sweet Goddess. He gritted his teeth.

“Are you okay?” Marisa’s voice trembled with concern from the other side of the door. When he didn’t answer, she pounded on
the wood, tested the knob. “Let me in.”

“I’m… fine.” He spoke between gritted teeth. “Go back to the babies.”

“Lucan and Cael just returned. And if you don’t open this door right now, I’m going to get Lucan.”

He winced. “Hold on.”

Shoving to his knees, he gasped as more needle-like pains stabbed his optic nerve. He dragged himself to his feet and yanked
open the door. “Told you. I’m fine.”

And with that emphatic statement, he fell backward and cracked his head on the floor. Tiny red stars exploded behind his eyes,
and bolts of pressure made his head feel like his skull would explode.

Marisa leaned over him, her cool palm pressed to his forehead. “You’re burning up.” Her clothing rustled, and he blinked hard
to see that she’d shoved back to her feet and hovered over him, her tone worried yet calm. “I’m calling for help.”

“No.” He grabbed her ankle and groaned as pain shot up his neck and into his brain. “Give me… a… minute.”

“You need a doctor.” She yanked her foot to get away.

“No.” He gripped her ankle, refusing to release her, his anchor in a world of pain. “Don’t…”

Her tone softened. “At least let me bring you some water.”

He watched her hurry to his kitchen, grab a bottle of water from the fridge. As promised, she returned and twisted off the
cap.

Sitting beside him, she scooted under him, until his head rested in her lap. “Drink.”

Cool fluid trickled down his parched throat. He’d never tasted anything so delicious. “Thanks.”

Worry radiating from her every pore, she demanded, “Tell me what else to do for you.” Her voice was hard, but her hands smoothed
across his forehead in tender circles.

Ignoring the pain, he focused on her gentle touch. Enjoyed the softness of her thighs cradling his head, her sweet female
scent. Her concern for him.

Slowly, finally, the searing pain faded.

“I’m recovering.” He paused. “Pain’s fading fast.”

“Good.” Questions burning in her eyes, she ran her hands through his hair.

He used the silence to gather his strength. To regroup. Guilt stabbed him, and he quashed it. Now more than ever, he had to
stay on plan.

She offered him more water. Lifting his own head this time, he sipped, then lay back in her lap, letting her thighs pillow
his head.

Biting her lip with worry, she peered into his face. “So was that one of your flashes? Because if so, you forgot to tell me
about the part where you look like you’re frying from the inside out.”

“It wasn’t a flash.” Thank the Goddess.

“Then what happened?”

“The Unari invasion took us by surprise.”

She tensed in concern, and the furrows between her eyes deepened. “Rion, you aren’t making sense. You aren’t on Honor. This
is Earth.”

“I know.” He had to get a grip. “You need a bit of history to understand what just happened.” He continued, “During the first
days of conquest, the Unari destroyed Honor’s communications and closed down our transporter, preventing Honor from asking
our allies for help. With the transporter down, I had to try and escape the Unari in a creaky spaceship left over from the
old days.”

“What does that have to do with the pain you just went through?”

“I’m getting to that.” He paused. Distilling his four-year quest into a neat explanation took some doing. “My spaceship needed
repairs, so I flew to Tor, the closest planet to Honor in our solar system. While engineers retrofitted my ship, I had a vision
that suggested I might not return for many years.”

“Are you saying Tor wouldn’t help?” she asked.

He shook his head. A mistake that he paid for with a residual slicing pain. “Our worlds have been enemies since the time of
King Arthur.”

“But then why did you go there?”

“My ship wouldn’t fly any farther. And though I couldn’t use Tor’s transporter, Honorians have some friends on Tor.”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“The conflict between our worlds is an old one. According to legend, long ago, a man named Gareth had two sons—one ruled Tor,
the other Honor. During an ancient war with the Tribes, the father had the resources to save only one world. He chose Honor,
a world of dragonshapers, over Tor, a world of people who couldn’t morph. Since then, there have been many wars between our
planets. To this day, Tor both covets and fears our dragonshaping abilities.”

“So while you were on Tor, you couldn’t dragonshape?”

“Luckily, the Toran engineers rebuilt my ship before morphing became necessary.”

“Did you convince the Torans you were one of them?”

He shook his head. “Some of them, like Phen, my contact on that world, want peace between our planets.”

“I see.” She wasn’t certain she did, but she allowed him to tell the story in his own way.

“But with communications out on Honor, I still needed a way for my people to contact me.”

“In case of an emergency?”

“Exactly. So Phen found a doctor to implant a communication and translation device into my arm.” He touched the lump on his
forearm and placed her fingertips there. “This is why I can understand and speak your language.”

Blue eyes curious, she gently traced the bump. “The device sends messages to you from home?”

“I wish.” He sighed. “We modified the language translator to receive a simple onetime alert. We weren’t sure it would even
work. The device was never engineered to be more than a last-ditch effort to contact me. The situation on Honor must have
gone critical.” His gut churned. He had to go home.

She caressed his arm. “Maybe you should have one of our doctors remove—”

He rubbed away the last of the stiffness from his arm. “I wasn’t supposed to experience that kind of pain. The transponder
must have malfunctioned, but it’s now harmless.”

“Good.” In direct contradiction to her words, her eyes suddenly narrowed with suspicion, and she removed her fingers from
his arm. “But if that device translates language, and it just died, then how come you’re still speaking English?”

Did her suspicions stem from dealing with her ex? Or did she suspect Rion’s motives?

Rion recalled her passionate kisses, her warmth, her taking care of him while he’d been in pain. No. She couldn’t suspect
his motives, or she wouldn’t be with him now.

His guilt was making him anxious. And his worry over the deteriorating situation back home had him off balance. Still, he’d
give everything he had not to hurt her again. At least this question he could answer honestly. “After being immersed in your
language for six months, I know English.”

She accepted his explanation with a simple nod. As the tautness in her shoulders eased, she resumed playing with his hair.
“So this contact, Phen, I assume he wouldn’t panic for no reason?”