About a Dragon

“Stop, Talaith.” He kissed her until he had her moaning and giggling at the same time. “You’re driving me wild with your anger and resentment.”

She leaned up and whispered in his ear, “Then you’ll love when I tell you to get your bloody hands off me and get the hell out of my room.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Morfyd, so busy thinking about a thousand different things now that her brother had informed her he and Annwyl planned to keep their offspring, never noticed Brastias until she slammed right into him. And even then, it took a bit.

“Sorry,” she muttered, still distracted.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of that deep, soul-invading voice. “Oh. Brastias. It’s you.”

“Aye. It’s me.”

“Sorry. In a bit of a rush.” She tried to pass him, but he grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her back.

“You can’t keep avoiding me, Morfyd.”

“I’m not.” Except that she couldn’t look him in the eye. “There’s just many things going on right now. I don’t have time—”

“Was our kiss that unpleasant?”

“What? Uh…no.” Unpleasant wasn’t the problem. Waking up, writhing against a human male like a drugged snake was the problem.

He took several steps, still holding onto her arm, forcing her to move back. “Interesting. If the kiss wasn’t unpleasant, then I can only surmise that something else is bothering you. Something about us.”

She felt the cold stone wall at her back. “Look, Brastias, I—”

“No.”

She blinked. “No? No what?”

“No more discussion. There’s no point, is there?”

“You’re right,” she admitted with resignation. “There’s no point.”

He framed either side of her face with his big hands. “That’s what I thought.” Then he kissed her. His warm mouth claiming hers. His hard body forcing her back into the wall.

And just as Morfyd melted against him, he stopped.

“When you’re ready, Morfyd. You know where I am.”

Startled and aching, she watched as he pulled away, but before he got three steps from her, she grabbed his arm and dragged him back. She leaned into him and let her lips brush over his.

“I’m sorry, Brastias. I didn’t want you to think I was a slag…or like my sister.”

He grinned. “I could never think that. I’ve caught your sister with my knights.”

She winced. Damn her.

“But none of that matters.” He stepped forward, pushing her into the dark corner. His big hands caressed her face. “All that matters is you and me.”

“There’s a you and me?”

“There will be.” He kissed her and all those feelings she’d been denying since she woke up by the lake with him, came rushing forth. So intense, it nearly strangled her.

Gripping him tight, Morfyd whimpered into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his hand taking hold of her breast through the thick wool of her robes. If it felt this good with clothes on, imagine how wonderful when they were completely naked.

Seconds from dragging him to her room or his—whichever was closer at the moment—she let out a startled cry as her wrist was grabbed tight and she was yanked from Brastias.

“Oi!” Brastias snapped, turning around and clearly ready to fight. But he stopped and stared and Morfyd looked up…into the face of Gwenvael. And, by the dark gods, he was angry. Extremely angry.

“You. Keep your hands off my sister.”

“Excuse me,” both she and Brastias said at the same time.

“You heard me. Both of you. She’s not some slag, human. So keep away from her.”

Morfyd didn’t know what to say. Gwenvael had gone drinking with Brastias on many occasions over the last three years. They’d always been good friends, it seemed. And not only that, but this was Gwenvael. To quote their own mother, “Not a pu**y he hasn’t loved.”

“Gwenvael, have you lost your mind?”

“You’re my sister, Morfyd. Not some whore he picked up on the street…or Keita.” It suddenly struck her—Gwenvael felt protective of her. She didn’t think he felt protective of anything or anyone. Once again…this was Gwenvael!

Her younger brother pointed a warning finger at Brastias with his free hand since he seemed bound and determined not to release his hold on her. “You just stay away from my sister. Or we truly will have problems, general.” She winced at the way he sneered that last bit.

Gwenvael walked off, dragging Morfyd behind him. She looked back at a shocked Brastias and prayed he could read lips since she couldn’t risk Gwenvael hearing her.

She mouthed, “Later.”

Based on his relieved smile, he read lips just fine.

* * *

“Stop it!” Talaith skirted around the bed, trying to keep it between her and Briec. “They’re waiting for us.”

“They can wait. Come here.” He moved again and so did she.

“It’s in our honor, Briec.” Annwyl insisted on throwing this feast in honor of their union. It was a sweet gesture from her friend. “We can’t miss it.”

“Who said anything about missing it? I’m just talking about making a dramatic entrance…in an hour or two.” Again he moved, and again so did she.

“This is ridiculous.” She stood up straight. “I’m a grown woman with a daughter nearly seventeen winters.”