“Are you sure you’re okay?” Leksander asked.
“Yes.” But Erelah wasn’t. The pain was gone—it had never been beyond her tolerance—but the fire burned on inside her.
“I’m not sure how long it takes.” He nuzzled his face into her hair, pushing it aside to gently nibble on her neck. She sat cuddled in his lap, while he was cross-legged on the floor of the cave. His hand traced a cool line along her back, where he had painted his magic on her skin and left the mark of a dragon. She’d seen it on the other princesses of the House of Smoke, so she knew its form without the help of a mirror. Besides… she could feel it.
“How long what takes?” she asked, although she knew. The transformation. The proofing of her body so it may bear him a child. Only for her, this wasn’t a transformation… it was a war.
One her angel nature had to lose.
She could feel it raging, inch by inch through her bloodstream and her limbs and down to her toes. Wave after wave swept through her, as it had from the moment Leksander had brandished his fire upon her. His dragon magic battling her angel power. Mortal enemies from ancient times, waging a battle for eternity and mankind inside her very cells. Each time one was gained or lost, a pulse went through her—dragon then angel; angel then dragon—and each wave prickled her skin like invisible goosebumps.
Leksander’s hand was cool on her breast. He teased her nipple, but it was already straining with peak sensitivity and hardness due to the battle raging inside her. She moved slightly away from his touch, and his hand froze. He stopped his gentle kisses on her neck and pulled back to look at her.
But he didn’t speak… just examined her face, like he was searching for something.
She didn’t know what, but another wave made her shudder, this one strong enough that he noticed. His hand stopped tracing the serpentine dragon that was now magically tattooed on her back, and he leaned to peer behind her, either at the tattoo or her wings where they attached to her back.
Another wave passed, stronger this time. An exhale was forced from her lips.
Leksander touched the feathers close to her back—the ones still singed from their mating—and she felt him trying to heal them with his fae magic. But that only shook the battle raging inside her, so she pulled away from that, too.
“Erelah, please.” He reached for her face. His hand was so cool, even more so than normal. But she knew it was only because her skin, and the magic battle beneath it, was a raging inferno. He cupped her cheek, the furrow dark on his face. “Let me heal you.”
“I am fine.”
“No. You’re not.” His face twisted with some emotion he was holding back.
She felt it as a strike against her heart. For she should honor the truth, always, but especially with him. “No, I am not,” she whispered. “The battle rages inside me. But it will be over soon.” She didn’t actually know this. She wasn’t sure at all what the outcome would be. Only that it was a fate she had no control over, no option but to wait and see what the future held.
Death. That was still possible.
An angeling who would fail to take his seal. Very possible.
Or a sealed dragon’s mate, no longer an angel. Likely.
That was one reason she kept her wings out, even now. If they were to disappear, she wanted to keep them unto the end.
“I am such a fool,” Leksander said, stroking her cheek with his cool fingertips.
“You are not.”
“I am,” he insisted. His frown grew deeper. “I should have told you long ago. I should have taken you in my arms and kissed the hell out of you.”
“You would have been rebuffed.” She smiled a little, even though it hurt her heart to think of it.
“Rebuffed?” He gave her a look of offense, but she was sure he was playing. “How could you have possibly resisted my smoldering dragon hotness?”
Her smile grew, and she twisted in his lap to face him more fully. She let her palm, so hot with the battle inside, lay flat against the hard muscles of his chest. “Your soul shines with righteous beauty, but I would have fled, Leksander. You know this.”
He held her hand to his chest, trapping it there. “I suppose I do. But I would have had years to convince you. Decades, Erelah. All that time, we could have been…” His words faded into torment on his face.
“Having sex?” Her smile hurt, the way something full of joy sometimes does.
“Yes.” His eyes went wide with pretend horror at the tragic loss of their years of lovemaking. “Or at least making out a little. Come on, admit it. You secretly wanted me all that time.”
“It’s true.” She grinned. And it was true. She had wanted to be with him… she had just suppressed that into a long-burning friendship rather than face the risk of losing him altogether.
Another pulse of magic through her—the clash of forces—made her wince.
Leksander sucked in a breath. “Does it hurt?” His voice was so pained, Erelah almost thought it must be he who was experiencing the battle.
“Not really.” She picked up his hand and cupped it to her breast. “Distract me.”
A low, guttural moan sounded in his chest, but his touch on her breast was barely a whisper. “We should wait,” he breathed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I don’t want to heat you up anymore, angel girl.” His breath against her ear was now cool, which only meant her skin must be even hotter. The friction between the two poles of magic within her was blazing.
She ran her hand along his cheek and then down his neck, letting her fingertips trace the finely sculpted muscles of his chest. “Do you know where I’m really hot?” she whispered.
“Oh, God,” he panted. “Erelah, no—” She cut him off by dropping her hand between his legs. His cock was coming to life again, stiffening against her leg where she sat in his lap. He sucked in air between his teeth. She grasped hold of him and stroked just once. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed.
She stroked him harder. “My heat rages hottest between my legs.”
He made a soft sound—like both pain and pleasure—and it made her smile. Another shudder ran through her, another pulse of magic battle, but if she were to die right now, her biggest regret would be not hearing more of the sounds of her delivering pleasure to the man she loved. Leksander was right on that count. They had missed out on decades of pleasure.
She stroked him again then scooted out of his lap.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his hands automatically going to her hips as if to bring her back, but she was already on her knees in the dirt and dipping to bend over, so she could reach his cock with her mouth. “Oh, fuck. Erelah… no…” But his protests were weak to begin with and faded as she took him into her mouth. A strangled gasp emanated from him as she slid her tongue along the silky underside of the tip and then sucked hard as she took him further inside. “Gah. Sweet mother of…aaahhgh…” His hips bucked, but only a little. She could tell he was fighting his response, which made her want to pursue his pleasure even harder. She gripped the base of his cock like she knew he liked, then she bobbed her head, licking and sucking harder at the top. His strangled curse assured her she was delivering quite a dose of pleasure. He kept saying her name like he was begging her to stop, but at the same time, he gathered her long blonde hair back from her face so he could see exactly what she was doing, even if her face was mostly buried in his lap. He made that soft, strangled noise again, and his hand tightened in her hair. His hips bucked again, and she felt his cock twitch in her mouth.
“Erelah, you have to… you’ve got to… stop… I’m going to…” Then he cursed and cried out and held her head while his cock swelled and then convulsed. All of him was cool to her now, even the seed he spilled. It wasn’t inside her in a way that could make them a child, but somehow, she still felt the pleasure of his groans and incoherent mutterings as he slowly came down from his peak.
“Holy fuck, Erelah,” he panted.
She pulled away, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and grinned at him.
“Well, I am an angel,” she said, giving him a playful look.
A growl rumbled in his chest, and before she knew what was happening, he had lunged to pin her on her back to the cool flooring of the cave. “Tell me again where you’re hottest,” he demanded as he pressed the length of his cool body against hers, holding her to the floor.
“Between my legs.” Although, in truth, the battle had moved to her core, just behind her belly, to a spot that felt like the center of her. There, the heat pulsed out in waves, rippling and traveling the length of her body.
Leksander growled, louder this time, and slid his hand down and slipped it between her legs. The heat had inflamed her everywhere, including there, and the wetness made his fingers slip easily along her flesh, teasing it.
She arched up into him.
“You like that?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She didn’t answer, just bucked into his hand and clutched at his shoulders. The pulses of pleasure he was sending through her body buffeted against the rolling waves of power—both dragon and angel.
“Do you like this?” he asked, slipping two fingers inside her, a coolness against the raging heat.
She mumbled a reply, but she was getting lost in the pleasure of his hand, stroking her sensitive flesh, stroking into her and out. She was rocketing to a climax that seemed to pound her not just with flesh against flesh but magic against magic. Each pulse of pleasure rebounded throughout her body until she was writhing under the touch of his hand and the press of his body.
“Leksander!” she gasped, bucking up into his hand.
He pumped harder. “Yes, my love,” he said with a shudder.
“Leksander.” She was lifting off the ground as she bucked, trying to meet his hand with ever more force. “I am yours!” Then the climax rushed at her, and the pleasure consumed her. She came and came, and her body convulsed, and somehow the pleasure didn’t stay contained between her legs but rocketed up through her body, bouncing and spreading and washing everything under in a tsunami of soul-annihilating bliss. The heat grew and grew, and her body kept convulsing with it, only now it was head-to-toe, and everything between. She had no control—none—and the battle had escalated until it was every cell, every scrap of magic, every particle of her being erupting in one giant spasm of love and pleasure.
Then it passed like the sea, and she fell limp to the floor.
Someone was calling her name.
Leksander. Leksander was calling her name. And touching her. Holding her face and her shoulders and her body as he lifted her, cradled her, called to her… she was on his lap again, she could feel it, even against the darkness of her closed eyes, and he was cradling her and rocking her, as one did a small bird who has been injured and one was nursing back to health.
Sound slowly ebbed back, and she could hear him calling her name, over and over.
Slowly, slowly… her eyes blinked open.
Her body hummed with pleasure and love. There was no more pain. No more battle. The two forces felt… fused… as if they had given up the fight and embraced one another in an orgasmic kind of joining love.
“Leksander?” Somehow her voice had gone hoarse. Had she been screaming?
Leksander jerked back and stared at her with wide eyes. “Erelah!”
She smiled up at him from where he held her in his lap.
“You’re… you’re…” His eyes were still panicked. He held a hand to her cheek. “Your fever… it’s broke.” His mouth hung open.
She pulled herself out of his lap and up to kneeling next to him. She had to grab hold of his shoulder because she was momentarily dizzy, but it passed.
Then she turned to him. “I am well.”
He was still gaping at her. “You made it.” A tiny smile hinted at the corner of his mouth.
“I am ready to mate if that is what you mean.” She smiled at him again.
He gave a short laugh like he was choking on it. Then he just shook his head and stared at her in wonder.
“If you need a minute…” she said.
The wonder dropped away, replaced by a hooded look of lust. “I don’t need a minute.” Then he was on his feet, towering over her and holding his hand out to her. “I need you to stand.”
Her smiled tempered, and her face flushed with his commanding words. She took his hand and stood as he instructed. Only when her wing brushed the wall did she notice… they were still there! She twisted around, one side then the other, trying to inspect them, finally remembering she could bring them forward. She did so and quickly ran her hands along them. Even the charred feathers were repaired and pristine!
She flexed them back and looked to Leksander. “I am whole!”
But the smoldering, possessive look had never left his fact. “You are mine.” Then he stepped up as if to embrace her, but instead, he turned her away from him, slipping his arms underneath her wings and roughly squeezing her breasts. She hadn’t noticed before, but his cock was rock-hard again, and it pushed ramrod straight against the serpentine tattoo where it dipped to the small of her back. She could feel it writhe in response. He pinched her nipples just short of painful, and it gushed heat and wetness between her legs. The normal heat… the kind that made her ache for that gorgeously large cock of his to find its way there.
He released her breasts and slid his hands to her hips. “On your knees,” he said hoarsely. She quickly knelt, and he was kneeling behind her before she could look back. “Spread your wings.”
She did so, and they flexed magnificently on either side. She was angelkind. Still. The joy that thrummed through her almost made her laugh. But Leksander’s groan as he stroked the top of her wings outward then ran his fingers through her feathers back in stifled any sound but a sigh of pleasure from her.
“Bend over,” he ordered, his voice rough. She hastened to do so, but even as her hands hit the dirt, he growled out, “Spread your legs.” Not waiting for her compliance, his knee forced its way between hers and moved them apart, baring her sex to him.
A quiver went through her. He meant to take her from behind. It was how she enjoyed it best, and her belly tightened with anticipation of the first stroke.
Leksander growled and grabbed her hips, thrusting fast inside her.
She gasped and lurched forward with the force of it. He was so big. Even now, even after having had him inside her so many times, he still filled her and stretched her and made her gasp. He pulled almost all the way out and thrust in again, grunting as he went. Then he growled and, still buried deep inside her, he planted a hand flat on her back and pushed her down. With the other, he grabbed hold of her wing. Using that leverage, he pulled out and slammed back, filling her to impossible fullness again. Her face was pressed to the floor, Leksander’s hand pinning her there, while her sex was high in the air, being pounded deep and hard by Leksander’s cock. His hold on her wing balanced it all out—push and pull, sweet ache of stretch and a ramming rod of pleasure. He took her, again and again, grunting and growling his way through it. The pleasure coiling deep inside her was something more than she’d felt before—even in this position, even with Leksander’s full passion bearing down on her.
It was her magic. It was thrumming deep inside her, dragon and angel magic mating with one another, joining into a harmonious whole just as she and Leksander were doing. It coiled her tight under the onslaught, working her higher and tighter as she went. As her body clenched down, Leksander cried out and growled and thrust harder, slamming deeper. Just when she didn’t think she could take the pleasure of him any longer, when she thought she might die of the exquisite torture, something crested, overly full. Her sex quivered and quivered and… finally… let loose, convulsing a shock wave of pleasure through her. Her body squeezed down on Leksander, then the power of it pulsed and blew out in all directions. It lifted her off the floor and threw her and Leksander into the air. She quickly flexed her wings back—including the one Leksander had hold of—and protected them from hitting the ceiling, but the fall back to earth was less graceful. Leksander caught her before she hit, clutching her back to his chest and rolling them both out of the fall. They kept rolling until he was on top of her again, and her back was on the floor.
With a grunt, he shoved her legs apart and thrust back inside her. She arched into him, the sudden fullness rushing her back for another orgasm. His thrusts were even more wild, and this time, he held her down at the wrists, sliding the masculine beauty of his body with all its rippling muscles up and down as he took her. He had marked her, and now he was claiming her. Her second peak was coming fast, but he beat her there, growling and burying his face in the crook of her neck as his hot seed spilled into her with giant gushing waves. He kept thrusting, battering away at her until she came again. This time, she was in possession of her senses enough to channel the power into angelsong—although the sound nearly pierced their ears as it bounced around the small cave, amplifying and echoing.
Leksander lay on top of her, panting and limp, for what seemed like a timeless stretch of seconds. There was only the humming pleasure of her body, the soft whisper of his breath, and the heavy weight of him pressing deliciously down on her. She couldn’t even tell where his body ended and hers began, they were so entwined.
Eventually, slowly, Leksander eased from her body, covering her with a multitude of kisses along the way. She was too spent in every way to move, so she simply lay there as he found a spot next to her, careful of her wing, where he could lie on his side and gaze at her while gently stroking her breast. He kissed her temple, then her nose, then her lips, but feather soft, as if the wild ardor had all been spilled out of him with his seed.
Seed that now lay inside her.
Leksander teased one of her nipples which, impossibly, was already sensitive and puckering up to a point. “God, I love how sensitive your body is.” He leaned down and nipped at the tight bud. “Fuck,” he whispered as he pulled back, shaking his head. “The things I want to do to you, Erelah…” He gave her a sly grin. “Some of them are probably Sins.”
She lifted a hand to his cheek and softly stroked it. “There is no Sin in love.” And she meant that in all seriousness. There was no pleasure she wouldn’t explore—wasn’t desperate to explore—with this man. She could hardly believe that she had survived… all that remained was for her to give him a child, and then they would have all the time in the world. “But if there is some particular Sin you had in mind,” she said, giving him a coy smile, “I shall endeavor to perform it.”
He groaned, and his hand closed around her breast, squeezing it just hard enough to send thrills of pleasure through her already sated body. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.” He ran his tongue along her tight nipple, and that twitched pleasure deep in her belly again. The pleasure hummed like it was resonating, distantly, with her entire magical being.
Only when Leksander pulled back, the humming remained.
She blinked, and the strangest sensation came over her. A presence. A holy presence, like the angels of light had suddenly dropped down from heaven and kissed her belly. It was a life kiss and a blessing rolled together, plus something even more precious—a human soul.
She gasped, shuddering in a breath and stealing a hand across her belly.
She could feel it—a brand new human soul—shining as bright and brilliantly beautiful as any soul she’d ever encountered on earth.
“Erelah?” Leksander had gone rigid next to her. “What’s wrong?”
Tears of joy pushed at her eyes. “The baby.” She turned to face him, heedless of the tears cresting and falling down her cheeks. “I feel our baby.”
His mouth fell open, and the shock on his face would make her laugh if she weren’t so full of joy that any sound other than a breathy sort of cry was impossible.
“You… you can…” His gaze jerked to her belly, and his hand stole over hers. He stared there for a moment, and then wonder filled his eyes. “He has dragon in him,” Leksander breathed. He turned back to her, his eyes shining. “I think. And angel too. And… and a tiny bit of fae.”
She nodded. The fae. The immortal and sworn enemies of all angelkind… and yet her child must carry fae blood if it were to fulfill the treaty upon which humankind depended. “He is truly ours.”
Then Leksander kissed her, and she’d never felt so much joy in her heart. If she were merely human, she was sure she would die of it. Even her angel heart couldn’t contain it. But the strength of Leksander’s dragon magic and his True Love held her together and made all this possible. When he pulled back from his kiss, the shine in his eyes had wetted his cheeks. Or perhaps they were her tears that had stained them.
“I don’t know about you,” Leksander said, his voice choked, “but I’d like to stay in this cave forever. Until the baby is born, at least.”
She frowned. Had all of these grand emotions rattled his brain? “I don’t see how that’s practical.”
He laughed. A snort at first, and then a great shaking laugh where he had to cling to her and laugh into her chest to contain it.
She really hadn’t meant to be funny. She scowled at him until he returned to normal. He wiped tears from his eyes then gently caressed her belly. Deep within, the baby pulsed its tiny magic, responding to the nearness of his father’s magic. That alone made her slight annoyance dissipate into nothingness.
Leksander cleared his throat. “I only meant that virtually everyone will be after us now.” He gazed into her eyes. “The fae. The shadow angels. Maybe even the angels of light.”
She drew back. “Why would—”
He cut her off with a finger to her lips. “It’s probably nothing. But you have to know, my love… everyone has an interest in this baby. For good… and for ill.”
A spasm of righteous fury went through her, along with a stony desire to kill anything that might come close to threatening her child. “I would like to see them try.”
A smile spread across Leksander’s face. “That’s my angel girl.” He bit his lip. “We’ll have to leave the cave eventually.”
“For food. And water. And…” She glanced around. “Proper hygiene.”
He grinned. “Yes. But we can do without those things for a little while.”
She nodded as that was truth, and she was committed to the truth in all things.
His grin tempered into a hungry smile. “Do you know what’s good for baby dragons?”
She lifted her eyebrows.
“Lots and lots of sex.”
She frowned. “I don’t see how sex—”
But he was already rolling her on top of him. She felt him grow hard between their bodies, something she would find impossible if she weren’t already so intimately acquainted with the formidable stamina of a certain dragon prince. He cupped her bottom and eased her up his body, so her lips met his. He kissed her thoroughly then grabbed hold of her hips and lifted her up… then somehow slipped his impressively stiff cock inside her.
He groaned as she settled on him.
She set her knees down on either side of him. With her hands on his chest, she pumped him, just once.
He groaned again. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Lovemaking strengthens our bond. Strengthens your True Love. The baby needs both to survive.”
She lifted again then used a magical assist to slam down hard.
Leksander cursed.
She smiled. “Then we shall make all the love, all the ways, until this baby is born.”
Leksander’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Praise magic,” he whispered.
And she set about pleasing her mate, wondering on the perfect beauty of God’s design that this magic of love-making would also strengthen their baby. That was good and righteous and no Sin indeed.
But let no vile person or force or magic threaten her mate or her child…
Or they would know the full fury of an angeling’s wrath.
Leksander and Erelah's story continues in...
CLAIMED BY A DRAGON
(Fallen Immortals 9)
coming July 2017
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Of Bards and Witches
London, The Year of Our Lord 1600
Leonidas is a dragon shifter, a century into his allotted five, and he’s entranced by Master Shakespeare’s theatre and the comely and lusty women of London’s bankside. But when he finds a witch in the practice of her art in clear view of the stage, he must act… for dragons are the keepers of the peace between the mortal and immortal realms. But never has duty been so sweetly sexy and delicious to the touch as a witch whose very skin sparks pleasure. He becomes lost in his bed, breaking his own cardinal rule—never seduce a woman for more than a night. As one pleasure-drenched night bleeds into the next, he runs afoul of a danger he ought already know… never cross a witch.
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