“Yes, my mate.”
“I’m going to fuck you now. I can’t wait any longer. The mate mark in dragons is brutal.”
I imagined as much since he seemed near death when Tully brought him here. I draw my hands down, placing them on his head.
He scowls and jerks his chin at me as he tugs his tunic off and then pulls his trousers down to his knees. “On the headboard.”
Why do I love him ordering me around? Because I don’t have to think or worry. Because it’s just pleasure and Cyrus and it’s perfect.
His chest is a marvel of angles and curves. Green and gold scales run over the tops of his pectorals, then dive down. His mate mark shows tea leaves and sugar, and my own mark pulses with satisfaction. His scales lead to his narrow waist. The tendons and flat expanse of smooth flesh that stretch down to his massive dragon cock is a work of art. It’s all gorgeous. He is stunning from every angle. Every inch of him.
I wrap my fingers around the wooden rungs again and study his cock. It grows right there before my eyes. Scales shimmer along the head, and veins of what looks like fire run beneath the flesh.
“Tully was right about shifters.”
He grins, then goes serious again. “Hold tight. This will be a little painful for you, but you can handle it.”
I nod and grip the headboard.
His gaze roves over my body, his hands dragging over my shorts, talons snagging on the embroidered flowers that run down the sides where my hips stretch the fabric.
“So beautiful. My mate is so very beautiful.”
I preen at the tone of praise in his deep and rumbling voice. His wings shudder and rise to cover us fully. He braces one hand on the bed beside me, then positions himself at my entrance.
“You’re soaked.”
His jaw tenses, and his throat moves in a swallow. Sparks appear and dance around the edges of his wings, creating a sort of net around us that casts a golden light. Magic. Dragon magic.
He pushes into me, hot and so hard. Inch by inch, he enters me. My body is squeezing itself around him. He bites my shoulder and I moan, loving the pressure of him inside me and the hint of pain.
“Be still,” he orders.
But I can’t. The pleasure is mounting, and I just need him to move or I need to move. He snarls, and a thrill shoots through me and I nearly come just from that.
“Be still, mate.”
The sparks increase in intensity to flames that warm but don’t burn.
“Please,” I whine. My body shudders, and that coiling pressure deep inside me quivers. “Cyrus, my mate, please.”
“You’ll wait. If I can wait, you’ll wait.” His lip curls and shows his teeth, which are sharper than a human’s. His hips move again, inching himself farther into me. He inhales sharply. “Your scent. Ah. You smell divine.”
The flames join with one another to form a complete crescent of light that extends over our heads and along his wings.
“Now,” he growls, more monster than ever.
Then he drives his hips forward. Pain and delight mingle to make me call out. The pleasure is untangling, expanding. His cock is as hot as fire and it feels as though sparks of pleasure spread from its insistent pressure. He is fully inside, his stones against my body and his hot cock deep and throbbing. I’m about to beg for more when the tremors of a climax begin. He refuses to move.
“Hands on the headboard, mate,” he snarls out, holding firm.
Pleasure ripples out from my center and echoes through my entire body. My head falls back, and I am gasping and panting and straining for more, even though I just came and it was astounding.
“Very good,” he says. “Now, I can fuck you fully.”
I can’t get enough of that look in his eye.
Chapter 33
