Page 51 of Princess Seeks Dragon
“Now, say you’re my mate.”
“Graham—”
“Say I’m your mate, or I’ll stop fucking you.”
“Wicked dragon,” she hisses as I suck her nipple deeply into my mouth.
“Say it, and tomorrow afternoon we’ll leave work early and go to the mall. You need new clothes anyway.”
“I’m not that pampered princess. I’m a smart, college-educated woman who wants a career. And a family,” Angela argues, but I can feel her trying to move against me to finally reach the orgasm that’s been building since I carried her upstairs.
“You are my pampered princess, and I’m your dragon. Now say you’re my mate, damn it.” I thrust into her hard and aim up, letting her find the last drop of pressure she needs to hit her climax.
Her wail of pleasure makes it hard to understand words, but after the first fractured gasps, I hear it.
“I’m your mate. Your princess. Graham’s treasure,” she whimpers in delight.
Her words unlock me. I can’t resist marking my mate, filling her with a treasure of my own, a copious flood of silver and pearl. “Mmm. Indeed you are.”
Chapter Sixteen: Angela
“Angela, can you helpwith a field trip?”
I look up from the geranium I’m repotting. “You want me to load up the tomatoes and cucumbers and take ‘em to the zoo?” I ask.
“No,” Graham rolls his eyes. “We have the Bright Stars preschool bringing in their pre-k class. Jerry is going to give the talk, and then he and the teachers will help kids plant their seeds. Can you just be crowd control? I have to call Manny at the garage and see if he can squeeze in one of our trucks. It sounds like it has a bad serpentine belt.”
“Sure, honey,” I say, and Graham stops beside me, frozen with the widest smile I’ve ever seen on his face.
He walks off, whistling.
I think he might actually be in love. And me? I’m... I’m thinking about it. I know my body is in love with the best sex I’ve ever had, with two gorgeous cocks, with a magical world and dragon rides across starry skies...
But I don’t think I should jump into anything while my life is so up in the air. Right?
Then you shouldn’t have said you were his mate. You shouldn’t have gotten all goopy and soppy and started thinking about the pitter patter of little feet—or the flapping of little wings, either. I don’t know what life is like in Scotland, but how in the hell would you raise a little magical kid here?
