CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Quinn~
Moira was still a woman when he woke. As he was still a man. He wondered what had gone wrong. Moira should have been transformed into a dragoness by their lovemaking. All his life, he had heard tales of wedding nights. Of dragons awakening to shredded sheets and their radiant and transformed mates.
His own first shift had come upon him in his sleep. His mattress and sheets utterly destroyed by his sharp new scales and talons. It had taken months before he had sufficient control that he only turned when he chose to. And a lot of destroyed bedding. So what had happened to his virgin? His ex-virgin?
He woke her with kisses. She mumbled sleepily but returned them eagerly.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
She nodded.
Shift. “Then let’s go flying.”
“Flying?”
“Yeah. We can get dressed and go out to the cliffs by Shoreside.” She could ride on his back and he would dance for her. For his mate. For transformed or not, Moira was his mate. His fated bride.
“I could use some more sleep,” she protested. “I don’t know what I did to make me so tired.” But she sat up and a pink satin robe materialized and veiled her luscious curves. Dang.
He heard her shower turn on. He went out to the kitchen to make coffee. He had a feeling his fairy went nowhere without caffeine. And he liked his Joe in the morning too. Her snappy red coffee maker was out of place in the white bead-board kitchen, but he had one much like it in storage. He set to work.
Moira came into the kitchen fully dressed. She wore her jeans and T-shirt like armor. Her face flamed when she saw him. “You’re naked,” she accused.
He looked down. His dong was pointed right at her. He sighed theatrically. “Yeah. Sully magicked my clothes away. You magicked the replacements. I have nothing but that smock to wear.”
“It’s insanitary,” she spluttered.
He was suddenly fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Shorts too. Only his feet were bare. He stalked his wife. Picked her up and kissed her. Just a good morning kiss. But his cock poked her.
“Is that what they call a morning erection?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Nope.” He nuzzled her ear. “That’s what they call a Moira phenomenon.”
“Oh.”
He set her down and poured them both coffee. Moira got the cream from the fridge.
“The champagne has gone flat,” she said.
He shrugged. Last night, he had had better things to do than worry about keeping bubbly bubbling.
“So when do I become a dragoness?” she asked.
He gulped. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? I thought having sex was the trigger?”
He could feel his face getting hot. “Me too. But either I did it wrong – and I am willing to keep trying until we get it right – or I’m firing blanks.”
“Blanks? Oh.” She sipped from her mug. Looked squarely at him. “I truly was a virgin until last night.”
That had not occurred to him. He covered her hand. Smiled his cockiest smile. “I know.”
“Does that mean we won’t have babies?” Her voice was level but sorrow lay beneath the calm words.
He squeezed the hand below his. “Maybe. Probably. But I just don’t know.”
“Last night you said you loved me.” Her eyes were huge gray pools of hurt.
“I did. I do.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I could not love you more if you were the mother of my twelve daughters.”
She choked. “That’s really romantic,” she said dryly.
He had thought so. Her expression made him doubt that she was speaking the truth. “You finished? Let’s go flying, my love, and greet the dawn.”
The sky was still gray. A few wispy clouds floated like pale pink fronds above the horizon. The wind blew off the black ocean into their faces.
“I’m going to shift,” he said. “You climb onto my back. We’ll soar together.”
“How will I stay on?”
He laughed. “You’ll think of something.”
“Leather straps come to mind.”
“Ooh. Bondage.” He began to take his new clothes off and fold them. “You might need a saddle too. My spine spikes are sharp.”
Moira nodded. “Why are you undressing?” she asked.
“Because if I shift fully clothed, if I don’t take my clothes off first, I will have nothing to put on when I return to human form.”
“Ah.” She looked happy watching his striptease, so he slowed down. “So how do you shift?” she asked.
He finished easing off his shorts, taking care not to damage his cock which was still saying hello to his mate. He shrugged. “I will it. It just happens.”
She nodded. “Will I be warm enough?” She eyed his cock speculatively.
“Maybe a windbreaker?” He didn’t want his bride to take a chill. “But once the sun is up, it’s going to be a scorcher.”
He had been shifting for years. He was fast and efficient. But huge. Particularly compared to his diminutive Moira. “Stand well back, and remember, that while I would never hurt you, my tail dart is venomous.”
“O-o-o-kay.”
On all fours he let his dragon take over. He knew what he looked like since he had been told by his family. He was as exceptionally large in dragon, as he was as a man. Probably over twenty-six feet long with a matching wingspan. His scales were black edged with gold. His tail dart, curved horns and talons were deep red. And the spikes running down his back more bronze than gold, as were his leathery wings.
He began to dance for his wide-eyed mate. Moira’s mouth was slightly open with shock. Her head cocked to one side. He hoped his pecker would behave itself. Or themselves. Dragons had double headed dongs. And the way he felt around Moira, he could only imagine how big they would grow if he got another whiff of her.
He caught flashes of his red talons as he lifted his forefeet and pirouetted for her, displaying the breadth of his chest and the vigor of his hindquarters. Primitive yearning for his mate suffused him. Of course, he had never danced for any other woman. But the steps were encoded in his DNA. His mouth opened and a song of love and longing bellowed out like a hundred trumpets.
Before his eyes his curvy woman became a little dragonette. Her scales were the same stormy gray her eyes went when she was alarmed or worried. Her stubby wings protruded from her back like baby leaves. At first they were transparent, but gradually they plumped up and took on the turquoise cast of a tropical sea. Her horn buds were too dazzling for him to be sure of their color.
Moira pranced a little on the top of the cliff. Matching his steps, despite the incompleteness of her change. Her talons popped out, razor sharp and glittering like her horn buds. Her tail dart was just as brilliant. His mate was a diamond dragoness. As rare as fairy dust. And just as dangerous.
Already his heart felt imperiled. Together they bowed and curvetted there on the top of the cliff, achieving perfect synchrony. Every twist of her tail, every flutter of her wings, ravished his racing heart. The sun came up and turned the gray dawn to a soft blue. He launched himself into the air and turned to look at his gorgeous little mate.
Moira spread her wings. They were longer than they had been, but only just long enough for flight. He glanced down at the ocean and the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. But his brave mate glided out over the waves as if she had been doing this since she was born.
Flying was such a rush. Always. He loved it. And of course he had flown with his parents and cousins. But flying with his mate was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was like being on the highest roller coaster. While having the most intense and out-of-body orgasm. His heart swelled. He had to be the luckiest dragon ever.