Page 21 of Me and My Shadow


  He groaned, his eyes shut as I let my fingers wander around his hips and belly, avoiding his rapidly growing erection.

  I kissed my way down his chest, savoring the salty tang of it, taking a tentative little nibble on his ribs.

  “This is going to kill me, May.”

  “No, it isn’t. You’re a strong man. You can do this.”

  “I’m not a man. I’m a dragon, and dragons take their mates when they insist on touching and tormenting and tasting. Dear god. Do that again.”

  I chuckled as I dipped my head down to his flank, licking the lovely indentation around his hip joint with long, sweeping strokes of my tongue, a line of fire following my mouth. “You see? I knew you would enjoy this.”

  His body twitched as I kissed a path over to his belly, pausing to bite it gently, blowing fire on it, too.

  “I’m sorry, May. I know you want to do this, but—”

  His hands closed on my shoulders, obviously ready to pull me over him again, but I held him back with a hand on his far-too-delectable chest. “I can see I’m going to have to take your mother’s advice after all.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Which advice?”

  “She told me that if you couldn’t control yourself, I would have to do it for you.”

  I could feel his confusion as I moved away from him a few yards, digging through the wet pockets of the jeans that looked as if they’d been through a shredder. Luckily, the objects I brought out survived Gabriel’s method of removing clothing.

  “You intend to restrain me?” he asked as he saw the thin strips of rope I held.

  “Mother knows best,” I said with a smile as I tied one of the ropes around his wrist. I looked around for something to anchor the rope. “Ah, that’ll do nicely.”

  We were close enough to a tree that I could loop the rope around its narrow trunk, then back to Gabriel, where I tied it around his free hand, shortening the rope so that his hands were pulled up to his ears.

  He frowned. “May, I am a wyvern.”

  “I know you are.”

  I checked the knots on his first wrist. They looked solid.

  “Wyverns are naturally dominant. We do not like being restrained.”

  “Mmhmm. Is the rope too tight?”

  He considered his hands, wiggling his fingers. “No. I think we should discuss the fact that, about this, my mother may be wrong.”

  “You think so?” I sat back and admired my handiwork. “I have to admit, Gabriel, there is something strangely exciting about seeing you spread out before me, every glorious inch of you just lying there waiting for me to touch you, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. You can’t distract me, you can’t touch me, you can’t stop me. Oh, yes. Kaawa is a genius.”

  His frown faded as he gave me a jaded look. “It would take more than a bit of rope to keep me from touching you, little bird.”

  “Oh, we both know you could snap that rope like it was a piece of thread,” I agreed. “But that’s not its real purpose. You’re well aware that the only reason I tied your hands is because it’s important to me to be able to touch you the way I want to.”

  His eyes glittered with the cold light of the moon. “You did not tell me that you were troubled by the method of our lovemaking, mate. I have allowed myself to indulge in dragon ways because you bear the shard, and thought you understood and shared those pleasures, but I realize they are foreign to you. I will adapt to your desires in the future.”

  I kissed him quickly, his breath hot on my lips as I said, “Don’t you dare—I told you I had no complaints, and I meant it. The way you do things is just fine with me, Gabriel, as if you weren’t aware that you make me mindless with pleasure. I just want to try this, too.”

  He glanced over at one of his bound hands, then sighed. “Very well,” he said, letting his head fall back to the ground. “Proceed. Although I should warn you that I am uncomfortable with the idea of being bound, and thus am likely to not respond the way I would should you release me and allow events to proceed in a manner befitting drag—glargern!”

  The gibberish word spilled out of him just as I bent down and took him into my mouth. Despite being bound to the sexiest dragon in the history of the planet, I had never managed to fulfill my wish to pleasure him with my mouth. Unfortunately, once I had him in that position, I wasn’t too sure of how to continue.

  “Gabriel?” I asked after a moment of more or less rolling him around my tongue.

  “Hrn?”

  “I’m not quite sure what I should be doing. Maybe you could give me a little direction?”

  “Neff.”

  I looked down at him. His penis was now slick with saliva, waving gently in the breeze as his groin muscles twitched, his legs taut, his belly rigid. He was gripping the rope in either hand, the veins in his arms standing out starkly, giving hint to the strain of holding himself still for me.

  Love filled me at such self-sacrifice. I made a mental vow to reward such devotion, and bent to my task, deciding that I’d just try out a few things and see if I got any response.

  I swirled my tongue around him, gently cupping his testicles, causing him to moan nonstop, his hips bucking upward.

  “Now, isn’t this fun?” I asked, an audible pop sounding as I pulled my mouth off him. “I’m enjoying this. You taste so wonderful, Gabriel. All woodsy and earthy and dragonny. Not at all like a urinal cake, like Cyrene said men taste, although how on earth she knows what a urinal cake tastes like is beyond me. You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  He gurgled at me.

  “Good. Cy swears by something called Pink Mango Massage Oil. I thought we could try that next. I have a little sample of it in my pocket. I think if I dribbled it around your penis and slicked you up—”

  I moved over to my jeans, reaching for the tiny plastic container, when I was yanked backwards, the ground suddenly beneath me, and Gabriel above, shredded bits of rope trailing from his wrists. “My turn!”

  “I don’t need to be restrained,” I said as he wrapped a bit of rope around first one wrist, then the other. “Gabriel! That’s my Pink Mango Massage Oil.”

  “Not anymore, my little tormentor,” he said, snatching the packet from my hand. He bit off the soft plastic top, spitting it out before dribbling oil in a serpentine pattern down my chest, to my groin. He grinned, his dimples flashing at me, causing heat to flush upward from my belly. “Now let us see how you like being the recipient of the attention of a wyvern.”

  My toes curled at the look he gave me. He spread the massage oil across my breasts, kneading them with strokes that had me writhing on the ground.

  “Shall I tell you what I’m going to do with this oil? I will start with it at your breasts, those two delectable mounds that fit so perfectly in my hands and mouth. I shall blow gently on your delicious chocolaty nipples, savoring the taste of them and you as I whip you into a frenzy. I will rub my whiskers on them, making you moan and beg me to end the torment. I will take them into my mouth and bite them gently, causing you to writhe uncontrollably.”

  My breath caught in my throat and didn’t seem to move as his words filled my head.

  “Then I will spread the oil around your belly, using it to caress all of those lovely curves, over to your hips, the sweet line of which makes me want to fall to my knees. Just when you think you can bear it no more, I will rub it lower, into your sex, caressing it into you, after which I will lick it all off. I will bring you to my mouth, and show you that two can play at oral sex. And then, when I have wrung at least three more orgasms out of you, I will push myself into your Pink Mango-flavored self, deep into your fiery depths, and give you fulfillment like you’ve never had.”

  I almost forgot how to breathe—so exciting were the images he brought to my mind. My body strained against his touch, wanting to feel all of it, all of it right now. But then he put his mouth down to my now-hard nipples, and I stopped thinking altogether. “Agathos daimon! That’s . . . that’s . . . oh, my, yes! More mouth
! More fire!”

  His mouth was on my stomach, swirling little curlicues of fire around it as he licked up the massage oil, and everything was just fine until I slid my leg up alongside his, rubbing my foot down the long, muscled lines of his calf.

  He reared back as if he’d been shot, stared at me with eyes of purest mercury, then was between my legs, lifting my hips to meet his thrust, the burning brand of him deep in my body the most exquisite of sensations. It took even less time than our previous bout, his climax coming almost immediately, with mine following as the last echoes of his roar of completion faded away into the night.

  I didn’t recover for at least ten minutes, but when I did, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I don’t even have the strength to open my eyes to see what it is you find so funny. You have worn me out, mate, and that is not something that happens frequently to a dragon,” he said, and then defied his words by opening both eyes and rolling over onto his side, pulling me close against his body. “What is it you find amusing?”

  I kissed his nose, tugging gently on one dreadlock until he gave me his fire. “I was thinking that the people in this neighborhood are going to report us if we keep it up. I love you, Gabriel.”

  “And I love you, my adorable little dominatrix. I failed at foreplay again, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but I’m not complaining.”

  He smiled, and it was a smug smile, a purely male smile, a gesture that acknowledged his awareness that he had pleasured me to the tips of my toes.

  I bit his shoulder and snuggled up against his chest, all worries temporarily driven away by the dragon who lay curled protectively around me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sanctuary we had found in the park ended with the sound of a police siren passing by. Gabriel stretched and gently pried me off him so he could get up. “I suppose we should return to Drake’s house. I wish to see Fiat.”

  I groaned as I sat up, muscles worn and well used in the vigorous lovemaking that was so common with Gabriel. “He was conscious when I went to bed. Mad as hell, but conscious. I think Drake was going to wait until you arrived to talk to him.”

  “Drake knows it is my right to kill him,” he said matter-of-factly as he pulled on his pants and shoes.

  I looked with dismay at the remains of my clothing. “You’re not going to kill him. Crap. I ripped your shirt off you, didn’t I? How am I going to get back to Drake’s house?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” He ignored my last question to address my statement, offering me his hand. I took it and let him pull me to my feet.

  “Because you’re not a vindictive person,” I said, looking around for anything I might use as a covering. He picked me up in his arms.

  “Shadow. I will carry you home.”

  “That’s going to look a little odd,” I pointed out as he started off to the gate.

  “It can’t be helped.”

  He was silent as he strode through the streets, keeping out of the streetlights as much as possible. He did, in fact, garner a few odd looks from passersby as he carried an apparently invisible burden, but the street was dark enough that I doubted if anyone saw my naked form.

  István opened the door to Drake’s house. Gabriel had set me down, standing in front of me as the light spilled out of the house onto the front steps.

  “May we borrow your shirt?” Gabriel asked István.

  The green dragon blinked a few times, but obediently peeled off his shirt and handed it over to Gabriel, who shoved it behind his back. I took it, pulling it on over my head, shivering with the cold now that I didn’t have Gabriel to warm me.

  István said nothing as Gabriel stepped aside and I entered the house clad in only the shirt.

  “It’s a long story,” I told István.

  He just grinned, closing the door behind us.

  “Is Magoth still unconscious?” I asked as we headed for the stairs.

  “No.” He made a face. “He is with Catalina.”

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

  “You don’t want to know,” I told him. “Neither, for that matter, do I. I’m going to bed.”

  Gabriel didn’t join me for an hour, and then he had only just fallen asleep before it was time to wake him up for the sárkány.

  “I hate to do it,” I told Kaawa as we walked slowly up the stairs from the breakfast room. “He only got to sleep an hour and a half ago, since he insisted on dragging Fiat from his bed.”

  “Is that what all that yelling was about?” Kaawa asked as we rounded the landing and started on the second flight. “I wondered about that when I heard his voice raised in anger, but since there was no general outcry, I assumed it was some dragon business.”

  “He evidently went in to scare the crap out of Fiat, but you know how hotheaded Fiat is. He threatened to dismember me, or something along those lines, and Gabriel snapped. I was going to stay out of it, since the sight of me seems to enrage Fiat, but when I heard Gabriel bellow, I decided a calmer mind might be needed. I got there just as Gabriel tried to decapitate Fiat, but luckily, Drake was there ahead of me, and he and his men, and Tipene and Maata, managed to pull Gabriel off Fiat before he could do anything more than slice him up a bit.”

  “I can’t think of the last time Gabriel truly lost his temper,” Kaawa said as we reached the top of the stairs. We paused outside the door to my room. “How very unusual of him.”

  I said nothing for a moment, remembering how Gabriel wielded a shadow sword against Baltic. “He really needs his sleep, but I guess there’s nothing for it but to wake him up.”

  I had my hand on the door when Pál emerged at the far end of the hall. “There you are,” he said, coming up to us. “Drake wishes to see you.”

  “Now?” I glanced at Kaawa’s watch. “I have to get Gabriel up for the sárkány. How’s Fiat, speaking of that?”

  He made a face. “He healed.”

  “Figures.”

  “Drake said it was most urgent,” Pál urged.

  I followed him down a flight of stairs to Aisling’s bedroom.

  “—the most unreasonable, arrogant, stubborn dragon in the whole entire history of dragons—oh, May, thank god. A voice of sanity. Will you please tell this deranged wyvern I’ve married that it’s perfectly safe for me to ride in a car?”

  Pál melted away, closing the door quietly after having delivered me to the room. I looked from an obviously distraught Aisling to Drake, standing stoic and silent in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, and over to Jim, who lay on a large dog bed set against the window, evidently playing with a handheld game device.

  “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of Aisling’s way?” I asked it.

  “Yeah, but she said I could stay in here so we could play our PSPs together. Ah, damn. You made me crash into Darth Vader. Now I have to start this level over again.”

  A look in Drake’s eyes warned against the flip comment I was going to make about dragons being overprotective. Perhaps there was a reason he wanted Aisling at home other than general stubbornness. “I assume you’re peeved because he’s insisted you can’t go to the sárkány?”

  “Bingo,” Jim said, looking up from its game console. “Give the girl a cigar.”

  “I’m his damned mate,” she said, glaring at Drake, her hands on her hips. “He’s made sure I am dragged off to every other dragon event, but now he is being totally and completely unreasonable!”

  “Bean said the baby had turned. You could go into labor at any moment,” Drake said, his eyes somewhat wary.

  I bit back a smile. “Bean the midwife?”

  Aisling nodded. “She’s a lovely person, really, but she’s admitted herself that she’s never dealt with a human having a dragon baby, and that the timeline is a bit off because of that. So there is no reason whatsoever I should not go to the sárkány.”

  “You are not leaving the house,” Drake said firmly. She took a deep breath, obviously about ready to yell. He held up a hand to stop her, adding quic
kly, “Since it means so much to you to be there, and more importantly, since I am unwilling to leave you at this time, we will bring the sárkány to us.”

  Aisling blinked at him a couple of times, her mouth ajar slightly. “You’re having it here?” she asked, clearly astounded.

  I knew how she felt. A sárkány, so Gabriel had told me, was a formal meeting of wyverns, used to address issues of the gravest importance. They were sometimes volatile meetings, ones that could have deadly repercussions, such as the one that had been held when Baltic stormed in, his guns literally blazing.

  “I thought it would please you,” Drake said smoothly.

  “Oh. Well . . . it does please me.” She gave him a blinding smile. Jim clicked its tongue and went back to playing its game machine. “I knew you could be reasonable if you tried. I should probably go check with Suzanne to make sure we have some snacks and beverages. Jim! Heel.”

  “But I’m about to go after Vader,” it complained, shambling after her. “You’re just pissed because you can’t make it past the Yoda level.”

  I waited until the two of them were down the hall and out of earshot before I turned back to Drake. “I assume Gabriel told you about what he and the others found?”

  His expression turned dark. “It was not Kostya.”

  I studied his face for a minute. Drake was a hard man, I suppose technically handsome, with bright green eyes, dark hair, and an obstinate jaw, but he wasn’t what I thought of as particularly flexible. He was, I suspected, very loyal.

  It was for that reason I picked my words with care. “I find it difficult to believe that Kostya would do something so heinous, but Gabriel insists that Kostya was seen. Have you spoken to him?”

  “Kostya?”

  I nodded.

  Drake’s expression grew blacker. “Briefly. I told him the sárkány was moved to this house, and asked if all was in readiness on his end. He assured me it was. I do not fear for the safety of Aisling with him around, if that is what you are so carefully hinting. He is my brother. I know him. He has been tortured and tormented for many decades, and he has much darkness inside him, but he would not act in the way Gabriel suggests.”