Ember (The Dragao 1)

I was warm. And everything was so soft underneath me. I sighed and snuggled in more, burrowed closer to the very hard but warm thing directly in front of me. I heated and felt fire lick through me, the scent surrounding me so incredible. I knew that aroma. I wanted more of it, wanted to bathe in it and let it take me away from the shit world I lived in, even if only for a short time.

This low vibration started to fill me. It shouldn’t have been comforting, but I didn’t fight the feeling it caused within me. And when I burrowed even deeper against the warmth that surrounded me, not wanting to lose it, not wanting it to ever leave, I felt that vibration increase, grow deeper, louder.

Not a vibration. A purr.

I felt that sound deep in my body… right between my thighs. It caused the most intimate, secret place on me to throb, to grow wet and ache.

This little voice in the back of my head said I should wake up fully, but I was so tired still and was so very comfortable—more than I’d ever been in my life. I had no fear, no urgency to be alert. I felt like I could drift off and I’d be totally protected.

Something big and thick pressed against my belly; then this rhythmic movement started happening. Back and forth. Slow and gentle. A harder, more urgent arousal instantly came awake in my body. I was wet between my thighs, the peaks of my breasts tingled and felt ultrasensitive, and I parted my lips to inhale sharply.

This felt good. It feels right.

I had to be dreaming, because real life didn’t feel this good, not in the world I lived in, not in the Pit. And because I let myself believe this wasn’t real, I moved against the hardness pressing against me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. The very big and thick presence against my belly couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a cock.

More wetness spilling from between my legs.

More heat consuming me.

More need drumming harder and faster in my very core.

I moaned, inhaled that delicious scent, needing the very thing prodding my belly to be buried between my legs, so deep in me that I didn't know where I ended and where he began.

Azar.

I thought of my dragon, how his beast’s form was so fearsome, so beautiful and magnificent. I imagined Azar pressed against me as a living, breathing man, his height, the strength in his arms and legs, in his wide, defined chest, making me feel fragile and breakable, his desire for me rivaling the heat from the dual suns.

I gripped harder onto the body pressed to mine, my head tipping back, the moan spilling from me as I started moving my legs back and forth, sawing them together to add friction to my clit, the slippery feel of my wetness making this erotic sensation in my pussy.

“I can smell your wetness. The sweetness of it saturates the air. It makes my dragon crazy, makes it hard not to lose control.” The deep voice rumbled against the crown of my head.

The motion against my belly picked up, and the man against me held me tighter, his groan of clear pleasure vibrating his chest and spearing right into me. That hardness digging into the soft flesh of my abdomen couldn’t be dimmed by my clothing. I felt every line, every inch of him. I felt the wide, flared head at the tip, even felt the fabric of my tattered shirt becoming damp from the wetness that spilled from the crown. That feels so good, turns me on so much.

He moved back and forth, the very distinct motion a man made with a woman when he was loving her body. And then I really let those masculine words settle in my consciousness. My eyes snapped open, the dreamlike state I’d been pleasantly consumed in suddenly vanishing as the heavy weight of reality seeped into me.

I felt my eyes widen as I pulled back and looked into Azar’s face. His eyes held that hooded quality from the night before, the one that told me he was greedy for me. And his fangs were longer. Those twin white points shouldn’t turn me on the way they did. I didn’t have to feel his tremendous erection to know he wanted me. He was savagely beautiful from the tops of his horns to the bottoms of his feet, even if they were tipped with black claws. Especially beautiful right in the middle.

“My mate,” he rumbled low and dropped his gaze to my mouth. And when he started to lean in, no shame in trying to kiss me, I found strength pooling in me as I pushed at his chest.