Hidden Rage: Kindred Tales

“Mmm, just can’t resist your beautiful body, my little feela,” Dragon rumbled, and then promptly began sucking her other nipple, which made her moan and shift from foot to foot, pressing her thighs together to try and ease the pressure growing there.

The next thing she knew, he was slipping a hand between her thighs to cup her swollen pussy.

“Dragon…” she moaned again, but she made no protest when she felt his long fingers invading her, sliding deep into her slick folds to stroke her aching clit. God, how had he gotten so good at touching her so quickly? She’d been engaged to her ex for three years and he had never gotten the hang of it, but to Dragon, pleasuring her just seemed to come naturally.

“Just wanted to see how creamy and wet your soft little pussy is this morning, feela,” he murmured, letting her tight nipple slip from his lips and looking up at her for a moment. “Just want to stroke your clit for you while you help me with my hair.”

His black eyelashes—surprisingly long for a man—were wet and spiky from the shower, which made his bronze eyes look even more intense, Bobbi thought. She could feel herself melting as she looked at him, reading the lust in those bronze depths.

“We…we shouldn’t,” she whispered breathlessly. But even as she spoke, she was spreading her thighs for him. And when he slipped two long fingers deep inside her tight channel, she didn’t protest at all. She only opened wider for him and let him fuck deeply into her while his thumb slid over her aching clit. Gripping his broad shoulders, she moaned his name as she came for him.

Afterwards—a long time afterwards, because Bobbi had decided to “return the favor” again, with another blowjob—they got out of the shower and toweled off and she showed him how to wrap a towel around his hair—which was surprisingly long now that it was unbound—to dry it.

She couldn’t help smiling at the sight he made, with one towel-sheet wrapped around his waist and another on his head, while in between his thick muscles, decorated with the colorful, moving tattoos, were showing.

He looks like a Mafia thug who decided to have a spa day, she thought, grinning to herself.

“Why are you smiling, feela?” Dragon murmured, looking down at her. “Are you feeling happy?”

To Bobbi’s surprise, she found she was. Which was completely wrong, she knew. She had been kidnapped and taken away from her research, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. She ought to be miserable—ought to be plotting a way out of here—not fooling around and falling in love with her kidnapper and captor.

Wait a minute, falling in love? What are you talking about? she asked herself. Are you crazy?

She pushed the thought away and looked up at the big Kindred.

“I was just thinking I can’t wait to see your hair once it’s dry,” she remarked. “It’s a lot longer than I thought it would be.”

He shrugged, his broad, bare shoulders rolling with the motion.

“It’s almost time for me to chop it off with a knife again.”

“No, don’t do that!” Bobbi protested. “Remember, I promised to show you a way to keep it out of your eyes?”

Dragon frowned.

“Yes, but I don’t think—”

“Please?” Bobbi begged. “I’ve always loved men with long hair. And with all those tattoos, you’ll look like a rock star if you leave it loose around your shoulders.”

“Well, all right. But only because you asked me to,” he murmured.

“Good!” Bobbi clapped her hands. “Come on, let me show you.”

The towel-sheets they used here were very absorbent and seemed to wick away water almost immediately. So when she convinced him to sit on the edge of the couch and pulled the towel off his head, his long, black hair was barely damp.

“Okay good—this is good.” Bobbi ran her hands through his thick, black hair, enjoying the feeling of the silky strands sliding through her fingers.

Dragon shivered and looked up at her.

“That feels…nice. I think,” he said doubtfully. “It gives me a cold chill—but in a good way. What are you doing?”

“Just playing with your hair—seeing how it looks now that we’ve gotten all that goop out of it,” Bobbi said “Hair can be very sensitive—that’s why you’re getting the shivers.”

Dragon looked interested.

“Do mammalians often play with each other’s hair?” he asked.

“Sometimes.” Bobbi kept running her fingers through his hair—once again she had that feeling of power. She enjoyed giving such a big, strong, fearless warrior the shivers. And she liked how the harsh planes of his face were softened when they were framed by the long, black hair. He really was very handsome, she decided, in a “dangerous bad boy your mom wouldn’t want you to date” kind of way.

“Speaking of shivers,” Dragon remarked, breaking into her musings. “I haven’t seen you shivering at all, even though I forgot to give you any more of my blood last night.”