About a Dragon

Talaith slammed into the cave wall behind her. “What?”

“Or maybe it’s just the fear of being caught, Talaith.” He put his hands against the wall behind her head, caging her in. Trapping her. “Knowing someone could walk in on you at anytime. Knowing they might see you with my c**k down your throat or my fingers in your ass?”

She slapped his arm. “And don’t try that again!”

“Knowing that no matter what we’re doing, I won’t stop. I won’t stop until you’re screaming and crying and coming all over me.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked away. But he still saw the heat in her eyes. Could still smell her lust. And he simply loved how her ni**les hardened and he hadn’t even touched them.

“Is that why you feel ashamed, Talaith? Because you like that bit of danger sometimes? Because it’s outside what those horrid little peasants told you was right?”

“I. Hate. You.”

He glanced over his shoulder as if he expected to find Gwenvael there again, although he knew the bastard wouldn’t be moving for the next few hours. “You know, Gwenvael might come back.” He looked back at her. “Or Éibhear. You know how he likes to chat with you.”

“Move, Briec.”

“As you wish.” He dropped slowly to his knees in front of her, ready to grab her should she try to bolt again.

“Wha…what are you doing?”

He leaned in, burying his nose in her groin. He took a deep breath, letting the lust-filled scent of her move through him. She was already so wet.

He grabbed hold of her thighs and pried them apart.

“Wait,” she begged as he wedged one hand against the blazing heat of her sex.

“We can’t wait, Talaith. I don’t know when they’ll come back here.” A flood of warm, fresh juices wet his hand at his words. Oh, yes, he moaned to himself.

Taking firm hold of her rear, Briec lifted her and forced her legs onto his shoulders.

“Briec,” she whispered desperately.

“Sssh, little witch.” He nuzzled her pu**y, all dripping wet and perfect. “Get too loud and they’ll be sure to come to see what’s going on.”

He buried his head between her thighs, hearing her voice catch as she tried to hold back a cry. Smiling, ridiculously happy with this strange woman, Briec speared her pu**y with his tongue. She gripped his head while he licked her clean, amazed at how wonderful she tasted.

Talaith’s legs clamped tight around his neck and he heard her struggling not to moan out loud. Digging his fingers hard into her beautiful ass, he pulled her closer to his mouth, mercilessly lashing her clit with his tongue. Her hips rode his face, her moans getting louder and louder.

He loved how he could make her lose control, how he could make her come apart in his arms like this.

She gave a startled squeak and then she did just that—she climaxed; her body tight and hot around him. Before her muscles could stop their contractions, he dragged her to the floor. Inside her before she could even see straight, Briec pounded into her relentlessly, completely lost to her and what she did to him.

Her hands, still buried in his hair, pulled him down for a brutal kiss. As soon as their lips touched and she tasted herself on him, she groaned and her climax started all over again. Her sex clenching him so hard, she hauling him over that edge with her.

* * *

He purred her name as he came, and she never heard it sound so sweet before. Clinging to her as his hot seed poured inside her waiting body, Talaith held back tears she’d never allow to come. Too cruel. All of it. To finally know paradise, only to have the gods snatch it away from her whenever they chose was too cruel for words.

Briec kissed her shoulder, her neck, her chin. Then he was over her, staring down at her. Smiling and never judging her. She truly hadn’t seen anything so beautiful before.

“You never fail to amaze me, sweet Talaith.” A big palm cupped her cheek gently. “I chose very well, my little witch.”

Perhaps. Shame he didn’t choose first.

Chapter Eleven

Gwenvael held his head in his hands and prayed for death. This was worse than any night after hard drinking he’d ever had. Why didn’t Briec merely kill him?

Damn spellcasting dragon.

He didn’t know what the bastard had done to him, but it took him the rest of the day and night to recover enough to make it to the next day’s morning meal. Talaith sat at one end of the table, reading. Briec sat at the other, reading. Neither spoke to each other and, if Gwenvael didn’t know better, he might have thought he’d imagined the little festival of f**king he’d witnessed between the two.

Even Éibhear looked confused and refused to speak.

When Briec did finally say something, it startled them both—but not Talaith.

“Where’s the bread?”

Turning the page of her book, but not looking at him, she said, “I finished it.”

“You didn’t save me any?”

“Is that my role now? I’m supposed to save you food? If you wanted it you should have claimed it.”

Gwenvael looked at Éibhear and his brother shrugged helplessly. He remembered quite clearly after Annwyl and Fearghus’ first time together, how the two of them f**ked constantly and anywhere convenient. Going at it relentlessly.

Perhaps the bedding between these two hadn’t been as amazing as Gwenvael first thought.

“Would it kill you to not keep the food all to yourself, like a rat storing for winter?”