I nodded and he turned to go.

“Oh—” I put up my finger.

He turned back, his foot on the edge of the stairs and his hand on the banister.

“I replaced the note you left in your mother’s place with one of my own. If you need inspiration tonight, or…want to try something neither of us has done, check out chapter fourteen…” I felt my face heat. “And if you’re serious about a little semi-public display, that’s chapter…” I bit my lip and thought, trying to stay chill but totally excited and embarrassed and naïve—and eager not to be so naïve. I wanted to try new things so that we had some firsts together, but was nervous about those things all the same. “Um…I actually don’t remember. Scan the notes. It’s at about three-quarters, I think. At the corner table in a busy tavern. Oh, and…I don’t remember the book, but…there’s a tying-up scene with a blindfold. If…that might suit you.”

If a dragon could smile…

Hunger burned in his eyes.

“Also…” I shrugged. “I don’t know if you care what I’m thinking and feeling, but since we communicate better in letters than face to face, I let myself ramble on about life.”

His eyes softened. “I do care. Keep them coming. I assume…you read mine?”

“Yes.” I ran my fingers down my stomach.

He caught the movement, and longing bled through the bond but didn’t interrupt the planes of his face.

“And obviously you haven’t bled yet,” he said evenly.

“No. Should be any day. Sometimes stress can delay it a while.”

“How long is a while?” He couldn’t keep the growl from his voice, it seemed.

I ignored it. “The longest has been a week.”

He tensed and closed his eyes, longing and hope warring with fear and anxiety in the bond. He half turned away, and this time I could feel his dragon sing through the bond, possessive and dominant and desperate to get at me. Desperate to mark me and claim me and mate me. They were currently in a battle for control.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Pretend you’re writing a letter instead of just about to explode and ruin the whole night before it has even begun.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “The idea that you might be carrying a child—my child—has sent the dragon into a possessive frenzy. Again.” He leaned heavily on the banister. “It’s overwhelming, to say the least. He can’t get at your beast, so he is trying to shove me aside and get at you in my skin. He knows your animal will welcome it.”

She would, no question.

“He can’t get at my beast as in…they… The beasts bang in animal form? Does that happen?”

“It’s not something people talk about. It’s…a different sort of experience, having sex when one’s animal is in control, as we know. More so, though, in…the other form. But yes, I’ve heard it happens when the animals are desperate for each other and the humans aren’t acting on it. They’ll force the hands of their humans. I remember a couple that absolutely hated each other. They couldn’t stand the sight of each other. But their animals couldn’t get enough, and they ended up having three kids together before finally getting over their differences and mating officially. Then imprinting. Their bond ended up being incredibly strong, but they only got there because their animals forced the issue.”

“As our animals did.”

“Yes. And continue to do.”

My animal surged up out of nowhere, sublime and content one moment, and shoving me aside the next. I couldn’t get my bearings fast enough to claw her back down. I couldn’t even get out the gasp that I’d tried to utter.

Our voice came out breathy. “Let me stop the tea, Nyfain. Fuck me as nature intended, with no barriers. No safety nets. Mate with me. Ensure that I carry your brood.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and wilted over the banister, resting his forearms on it, his body shaking. Power flooded the bond, washing into us and boosted by my animal before being fed back. It nearly stole my breath.

You cherry-flavored cumstain! I roared at her, grappling with her presence. I told you I would not incite his dragon!

That ought to do it, she said, preening, and drifted into the background.

You are such a cum-gargling twat, I swear, I ground out, my body trembling, half crouching and my nails digging into the wooden doorframe. How I’d gotten in that position, I didn’t know. That isn’t fair to them.

The dragon relishes in the sweet rush of power. He thrives on it. Didn’t you just feel it? His need to mate is stronger than magic; I told you that. It is embedded in his very foundation. It should be able to help him push through more of the curse. He welcomes this. Let him take us and see. If the man wasn’t so dense, he would encourage this and not try to keep the dragon at bay when he seeks to claim his mate!

Tags: K.F. Breene Deliciously Dark Fairytales Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net