I flew over the coastline of America, the same word flashing in my mind over and over again. Fuckery. A shit-ton of fuckery. Bollocks and fuckery.

My mate was a dragon hunter? That was life doling out a serious amount of fuckery, and though I was grateful she was as hot as the sun, the fact that she was a dragon hunter was a seriously warped trick of fate. Perhaps I’d been watching too much television on the sly lately. It was impacting my vocabulary, and that just wouldn’t do.

I huffed a sigh and saw smoke billowing from my snout. This just wasn’t going to do. I should be heading home to explain to my father why there wasn’t a tiny village in America mysteriously spontaneously combusting. Instead, I found I was heading back to the village, to her.

Arista.

I’d heard her mother calling her name out from my perch on the tree limb above her before they’d gone back into the house. She’d told her mother what had happened, but she didn’t sound convinced that it all really happened. I suppose all our work to turn our reality into mythology had finally worked. The last remaining dragon hunters were now unaware of what they were, and that we actually existed.

That should be good news, and it would be if she wasn’t my mate.

I could burn down her village and incinerate her with barely a qualm except for that fact. If I could actually bring myself to kill my mate, I would kill myself in the process. Without her, I’d wither away and die. Judging by how she’d quickly improved just from my nearness, I knew she was already feeling her strength return. It would take longer for me, but not that long now that I’d met her.

If we actually mated, then it would be even worse. A few days and we’d both be too ill to move. A week and she’d die. A month and I would.

So why was I flying back to her? Did I want to kill myself? Was that it? No, my body thrummed at me, you want her. You want to live within her, be in her.

I felt a shiver go down my long spine, all the way to the tip of my pointed, razor-sharp tail. I needed her. I’d never needed anybody before, not even my father.

I was at her window before I knew it, my body calling to hers.

It was something only mates could do, call to each other. I called to her now and she came to her window, a smile on her face. She’d been trying to sleep, but from the sight of her messy bed and messier hair, I knew she wasn’t accomplishing that.

She’d had a taste of me, as I’d had a taste of her, and nothing would be the same. I pulled her to me, taking her lips in a deep kiss. She melted into me instantly, without a fight, so I pulled her through the open window to my body. Her sweet lips moved against mine and lit a fire in my belly, low and hot.

“Not here. We’ll wake, Mom,” she whispered to me when I let her up for air.

“Where then?” I asked, lost in this land.

“Where’s your house?” She tilted her head, her fingers dancing along the belt around my pants just before she flattened her hand over my hard cock boldly.

“In England,” I answered her with a hiss. That felt way too good. I placed a hand over hers, stopping the flexing of her fingers on my length. I didn’t want to come in my pants like a schoolboy.

“Come on.” I whipped her into my arms and shifted. I was thankful she didn’t scream, I didn’t want to deal with her mother. She clung to me, but my arms held her securely. She wouldn’t fall. I flew to a city in an instant and landed. I went to rent a room in the hotel then came back to get her.

We could allow humans to see us when we wanted to, and our money was magical, or our plastic was, at least. Rich didn’t begin to cover the wealth of my father and our family. Our cards were accepted anywhere we went, and this time it was no different. I took us down the stairs to the penthouse suite I’d rented, and we were soon in a magnificent room, decorated in creams and rich, dark browns.

We were on the twentieth floor, so our view was a panorama of the city below, but I only had eyes for the brown-eyed beauty before me. A bedside light lit the room softly, and I watched as the lines around her eyes began to fill out, and the gray color of her skin became healthy and pink once again.

My beautiful mate was coming back to life before me. Her body, too thin still, was softer, not so sharp, and her eyes became brighter with life. “You’re astonishing, Arista.”

Even her hair came back to life, a wave of a curl giving the light-brown mass volume. I buried my fingers in it and her head tilted back. Her lips smiled and parted just enough to tempt my eyes from hers. Red and full, those lips were made for me to nibble on. I slid my head down to hers, our lips coming together just right.

I moaned when her fingers dug into my waist, grasping at me for support as she gave a groan of her own. “Is this real?”

There was a quiver in her voice, and I pulled away from her.

“This is real, Arista, I’m real.” I looked down into her eyes. She was tall for her kind, but not for mine. She was shorter than Mary, and it was nice the way she fit against my body as she threw herself against me.

“You’d say that if you weren’t real or if you were. If I’m crazy and just hallucinating all of this. I guess I’m just going to have to be crazy, aren’t I?”

“How can we prove this is real to you then?” I tried not to smile but couldn’t help it. She sounded so adorable and I loved her southern accent. So different from what I was used to hearing at home or on the television programs I watched. I glanced at the bed, just feet away, but backed her up to the window instead. We were so high up nobody would see us, but I loved the idea of her bare back pressed into the glass as I fucked her. I wanted that.

“I don’t know,” she said as she slipped back, her head coming up against the pane of glass that made up the wall. “I tried to call my cousin to talk about it, she believes in all this dragon nonsense too, I think. She’s sick so she didn’t answer. I just don’t know.”

She wrapped her arms around my waist and held on tight and I knew she felt the pull of the mating. She glanced at me and I could see she was as helpless as I was. We had to touch, it wasn’t a question of should we. She wouldn’t be able to get enough of me, the same as I wouldn’t be able to get enough of her.

Her hands began to move, exploring my body while I stayed still to let her. She murmured and praised my body, until my cheeks started to burn. I distracted her with another kiss. The only way to prove I was real was to make sure she felt me.

“If I’m not real, Arista, you wouldn’t be able to feel my lips on yours.” Her lips clung to mine as I broke away just enough to speak. “You wouldn’t be able to feel my hands slipping down your pants.”

Her shiver told me she was well aware of how real it felt, and she liked it.

“You wouldn’t be able to…” I paused, slipping my hand further down, between her folds, into her slick heat. “You wouldn’t feel my fingers sliding inside of you like this, with your walls clasping at me like that.”

My own voice shook as I felt her surrounding my fingers deep inside her tight walls. My eyes closed as I savored the moment, that first touch, the whimper she gave as my fingers flexed inside of her. I wanted to taste her, but I waited. I wanted her panting before I got that far ahead of myself.

My lips moved down her neck, stopping when I found that scent, her scent, concentrated at her pulse. I nipped at the skin delicately before I licked it with the flat of my tongue. She shook in my arms, her fingers tensed at my waist still. I pulled one of her hands around between us, until she was cupping me.

“You wouldn’t feel how hard I am for you, Arista. How badly I want this inside of you, surrounded by your wet pussy.”

I could feel how tight she was as she pulsed around my fingers when I spoke, and I was the one with a tremble. She responded so quickly, so completely, and it was intoxicating.

I pulled away, just enough to push her top off, a flannel material that matched the bottoms with a blue female cartoon character all over it. I found it adorable, but when I bared her skin to my view, I stopped thinking about adorable. I stopped thinking at all.

Her breasts were just enough to fill my hands, with dark nipples that drew my eyes instantly. Such a dark, tempting color, and I wanted to taste them. I ran a finger from her collarbone down to the pointed tip. Her breath hitched as I made my progress, before it exhaled suddenly when I grasped the tight bud, squeezing slightly.

“Malcolm I…” Her words were a gasp, just a reaction, but I still answered.

“Yes, my darling?” I purred the words out just over her tear-shaped breast, my breath a feather against her skin. “What do you want?”

“I want…” She squirmed against me, her hips pressing into me suggestively, but I wanted to hear her speak.

“Tell me.” I ran a finger to the other nipple, and she moaned.

“I want you, Malcolm.”

“And you have me, princess. What more would you like?” I smiled against her skin when she gave a frustrated huff.

“I want you to touch me!” She got what she wanted then, and I took her left nipple in my mouth, teasing it with one hard suck before laving at it gently with my tongue.

“That’s so good.” She was purring again, and I pushed her pants away so she was totally naked. I don’t think she realized just how vulnerable she was, how brave she was.

“Arista, you do know you’re in a hotel room with a stranger, right? One that’s about to fuck you until you can’t stand up on your own?” I had my fingers inside of her again by the time I finished speaking, and she didn’t miss a beat. Her hips danced against me, moving in time with my fingers plunging into her tight pussy.

She couldn’t say anything, not when I’d found that spot inside of her that made her mine completely. She only writhed, her fingers grasping at my cock in one hand, at my bicep with the other. I watched her face melt into ecstasy and I inhaled her scent on my fingers. I held her nipple between my teeth, just tight enough for her to feel it.

She smelled sweet, like a drug I’d never be able to get enough of, and I swore I’d taste her before the night was out. In fact…

I sank to my knees, pressing her legs apart to settle there, my palms opening her folds to me. She was panting my name, her body perpetually in motion now, as my lips took her clit. Her fingers dove into my hair, and she directed me as she fucked herself with my face. I cupped her ass, tilting her into me, a better angle to give her exactly what she needed: my tongue.

She came apart against the glass, her lips whispering my name over and over again as I drank her juices. I was hard enough to crush diamonds, but I wanted her to come. She let go beautifully. Her gasps made my cock throb, her jerks made me hum in appreciation, and the taste of her that flooded my mouth made me hungry for more.

She’d been ill though, and rather than fucking straight into her as my cock demanded I do, I let her slide down into my arms and carried her to bed. She sighed sleepily, her eyes closed as I pulled the covers over her.