Chapter Thirteen: Claire
Claire woke up wrapped in warmth, and it was heavenly. She moaned in pleasure and wiggled closer to whatever it was. Arms tightened around her, and she startled awake.
Where was she?
Darkness greeted her with the smallest flicker of light in the distance, and as her eyes adjusted, she saw her candle in the kitchen flickering on and off from being at the very end of the wick. At the very second she noticed it, the wetness of the wax extinguished it for good. She heard it sizzle out and listened in the dark. There was nothing but the sound of a man breathing.
Her eyes adjusted again, and she could see the faint outline of Desmond breathing deeply. She felt like a weirdo watching him sleep, but technically she wasn’t since it was dark. She moved carefully, pulling back slowly so as not to wake him until she was rolled over, face to face with him, close enough to touch his curly hair.
Her fingertips whispered across his hair, feeling the contradiction. They were soft but coarse, like him. She could feel the small ridges like the tiny waves she was used to studying. Her fingers ghosted down his hard jaw and his sideburns to his cheek, meeting smooth, unmarred skin.
His skin was like silk and shiny enough to distinguish him from the blackness of the night.
Somehow without the light, she felt hidden. She could be open to her feelings and with no one around to judge or critique, or her own inner voice telling her she couldn’t let her guard down, she leaned across the few inches separating them to press a kiss against his thick lips.
Butterfly kisses.
Just a whisper against his lips and another on the corner where the two lips met.
“Please tell me this is real,” he moaned.
“Do you want it to be?” she whispered, heart racing and unsure what she should do. She hadn’t imagined he would wake up.
Desmond’s eyes opened, and she felt like his gaze shot straight through to her heart. “God, yes.”
Somehow, those were the magic words, and she didn’t think as she leaned forward, pulling him into a fiery and passionate kiss.
Desmond was big, so big compared to her that he covered her entire body like a blanket. She was cloaked in warmth and him, feeling his hands work their way down her body. She followed his lead, feeling each crevasse and groove of his perfect physique. He laid back, allowing her to climb on top, matching his body’s form while his mouth worked against hers. His tongue sucked on hers and his arms gripped her waist as he rolled them over and took charge.
“Is this what you want, Claire? Tell me. I need to know you’re sure,” Desmond said over her, and even in the darkness, she could make him out.
She reached upward to cup his face and loved the way he turned into her hand like she was his warmth.
“I’m sure,” she said, and he kissed the palm of her hand. To prove her point she reached forward to his shirt, pulling up the bottom until it was haphazardly out of his pants and then started unbuttoning. “Take it off.”
He leaned back for her, speeding so fast she was sure he would rip a few buttons from their seams. She wasn’t one to wait and sat up to rid herself of her shirt, too.
“Come on,” she said, standing and pushing down her yoga pants. Desmond mirrored her, unbuckling his pants.
“Where we going?”
“To bed,” she said, grabbing his hand.
She led Desmond through the dark to her room, chuckling as he stumbled into things since she wouldn’t turn on any lights.
“We’re almost there.”
“We better be,” he grumbled, and she gave him a reprieve by turning on her aromatherapy light when they got to her room. It was like a small candle but it burned wax squares and was plugged into the wall. “That’s better,” he said, looking around.
She decided she didn’t want him looking anywhere but at her. “Des?” she said, waiting until she had his full attention before sliding her panties down her legs, leaving her clad in nothing but her bra.
His mouth hung open.
“Focus on me.” She turned and walked to the bed, flaunting her favorite feature before climbing onto the bed and looking over her shoulder. “You coming?” He nodded.
“Please tell me you have condoms,” he said, ditching his pants.
“You better believe I do,” she said, rolling over to open her nightstand.
“Should I be concerned?” Desmond said with a sideways smirk.
“You should probably be grateful,” she said, rolling her neck, “considering you’re naked, about to climb in my bed, and I have provided us with blessed protection.”
He chuckled and took the wrapper from her but set it aside. “I’m going to make you regret that,” he said, stalking toward her.
“You promise?” she said, mesmerized by his movements and licking her lips. He was hung like a horse, and she briefly considered how true the rumor was proving to be.
“Promise,” he agreed, and crawled over her body to stare into her eyes.
“What are you going to do now?” she whispered.
“Let me just look at you,” he said, kissing down the crook of her neck to her collarbone and her bared breasts. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, pulling the cup of her bra down with his teeth. “So…” he said, pausing to kiss right above her nipple. “Beautiful,” he said, his breath tickling her skin before taking the nipple into his mouth.
“Spread your legs,” he commanded, and Claire’s legs moved on their own. She could feel his eyes glide over her as if they were his hands, and she whimpered.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, and inhaled deeply.
She moaned.
“Tell me, Claire. I need to hear it,” he said, nipping the sensitive skin between her thighs and her pussy. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want this,” she moaned.
“Tell me you trust me,” he said, biting and licking the burning skin immediately to cool the hurt.
“So good,” she cried, stretching her hands out, trying to find something to hold.
“So god damn good,” he groaned, agreeing with her.
She twisted the bedding in her hands, holding on as he peppered her opening with kisses. “Please,” she cried out.
He sighed and gave in, covering her opening with his mouth. Her back arched as his tongue entered her, lapping her essence and tightening her core even more, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His long arms reached upward to pinch her nipples, and Claire felt her body gush in response.
Pin pricks of pain sent naughty pleasure down her spine as he pinched the hardened nubs, tugging and massaging. Claire’s head whipped back and forth frantically, trying to prevent herself from being overwhelmed. But it was of no use. Desmond owned her with his mouth and sent electricity up her spine as his fingers joined his mouth inside her. He lapped at her clit, digging his fingers deep inside her, hooking them to touch the secret spot that eluded most men. A few more licks against her bundle of nerves added to the torture.
“Ah,” she screamed, jolting forward to hold onto whatever she could grab. Finding his shoulders, her nails sunk in.
Her hips bucked against him as his fingers pumped inside of her. One hand owned her body, and the other circled the outside rim of her clit, driving her wild.
“You’re going to come for me,” he said. He wasn’t asking.
“No,” she whimpered, whipping back and forth. She could feel ecstasy taking hold of her, and she held off, terrified of what it would mean for her to give in. She could feel him taking her higher, higher than anyone had ever took her, and she wasn’t sure what it would mean if she fell.
He lifted his head and found her shocked face. Everything about him was feral and out of control. She could tell he wasn’t going to accept her answer. ‘No’ wasn’t the right answer. His eyes were wild, and his crooked smile was her undoing.
“Come for me,” he said, pushing against her hardened nub with his thumb and leaning upward to bite down on her nipple.
That was it. There was no fighting it. She was gone, coming on his fingers against her will with light exploding behind her eyes, unsure if she was more mad or happy that he made her feel so much. She came for him on his fingers, eyes wide and mouth gaping.
“Desmond!”
He continued touching her, kissing her sensitive spots as she rode the wave of her orgasms until she was nothing but a breathless and twitching heap of mush. She sighed in contentment as his fingers slid out of her. She opened her eyes and lost her breath again when she saw he was sucking on his digits, unwilling to waste any of it. She caught hints of pink as his tongue swirled around the long digits, leisurely licking them clean.
“You taste so good, baby,” he said, and Claire’s heart raced. Since when did he call her baby, and since when did she start liking it?
“Please tell me there’s more,” she shuddered.
“Trust me, I haven’t begun to get enough of you,” he said leaning in to kiss her.
She didn’t hesitate taking his lips, tasting herself on his tongue.
“I have to get inside of you,” he mumbled against her mouth.
“Then stop talking,” she whispered back, and he chuckled, reaching for the condom he’d previously set aside. She watched him in anticipation as he pumped himself a few times before sliding the latex down his hardened shaft.
He grabbed her waist, pulling her toward his sheathed cock. “Come here.”
He lined his dick up with her opening, making sure she was comfortable on her back and he could comfortably hover over her. Claire grabbed hold of his shoulders, doing her best to hold on for the ride of her life. Desmond took her hands, interlacing them with his before pushing them above her head as the tip of his dick spread her wide. She could feel the sting of her own teeth biting down on her bottom lip, and still, she held on to keep from screaming.
“Don’t hold it in, baby,” he said, sliding even deeper.
She bit down harder, drawing blood but not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasing her to near blackout.
He leaned down, bending to hold himself up with his forearms and close enough to suck on her neck. “You know you want to,” he teased, bearing down deeper inside of her. “Give it to me, Claire,” he whispered slowly as if to savor each letter. Her name had never sounded so goddamn sexy as he slid to the hilt in her body, filling her to near bursting.
“Desmond!” she screamed at the onslaught.
“That’s it,” he sighed, pulling his hips back until he was almost out just to slide in again. The lips of her sex stretched taunt against his girth as he gave her inch by glorious inch of his dick and seated himself deep inside her, pausing to allow her time to adjust to his size. “God damn woman. I’m going crazy.”
She was happy to know she wasn’t the only one. She needed more.
“Move.” It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a request. It was a fucking necessity.
He didn’t respond, but he moved, which is all she wanted.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
She opened them to find his own right above hers. She closed them instantly; his eyes were too close for comfort.
“Open,” he grunted, hammering into her, and she opened them again. “I want to see you come,” he said, slowing his strokes. “I don’t want you to look anywhere else. I want you to be right here. With me. Let me see you.”
How could he know that was the one thing she didn’t want him to do?
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he said in between kisses, feverishly covering her body and face with something akin to love. Something she never felt before came over her, stealing her breath and ramping up her pleasure as he continued, slowly thrusting inside of her. Every time he kissed her, he brought his head back up to hold her gaze, building the trust, the intimacy, and feelings between them. “Trust me, Claire. You let me have your body,” he said, leaning so close she could see the intense darkness in his eyes. “But I want more.”
Claire’s body moved against her will, hips rising to meet his every thrust, her nipples hard under his touch, and electricity in between her legs, priming her for a great release.
She moaned, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist. He lifted her legs, pressing her thighs closer to her chest as he changed the angle and penetrated another hidden spot.
“Oh, baby, so tight,” he choked.
She screamed at the intrusion, and the shock of another pleasure point she had no idea existed inside her. What kind of voodoo was this? She could feel Desmond everywhere – in her body, her skin, her aura – and wondered if dragons could use magic during sex. Was he doing something extra, or was this some kind of supernatural joining she just had no idea existed?
She couldn’t formulate the question aloud to ask as he continued stroking, his hips moving like a piston in and out, repeatedly rubbing over her g-spot. He let go of her waist with one hand to find her clit and tickle the bundle of nerves with her own wetness and force.
“Oh yeah,” he said, gaining a rhythm, and still staring into her eyes. “I can feel it. Don’t hold it back. I want to see it,” he said, ramming into her with hard, fast strokes with scary accuracy. “Come for me, Claire,” he said, and she could see just how much he really wanted it in his eyes. “Please.”
How could she deny him that?
He stroked her like his life depended on it, riding her hard enough to push her higher on the bed until her head hit the headboard, and she didn’t care. Her limp body began to tremble uncontrollably. With her eyes open, she saw him lean down for a kiss, his head angled slightly to the side as his lips came closer and closer to hers. She was surprised to find her own lips parted, and she kissed him, putting everything she had into it.
She released her fear of commitment – of Desmond, love, being alone, losing herself, her career – and let go of the orgasm she held onto so dearly. She let it all go and gave him everything, not just because he had asked her to, but because she could see he needed it just as much as she did. For the first time ever, she came with her eyes open.
Desmond’s pupils dilated, and he tightened his hold on her, so tight she knew there would be bruises the next day.
“Claire,” he groaned between clenched teeth, and rammed into her, five hard times, jolting her as her head hit the headboards. Seeing the pure ecstasy in his eyes when he came overtook any pain she felt.
She could feel the heat of his orgasm despite the thin latex between them and almost came again. Veins lifted in his forehead as he came and the sheer relief on his face when he finished made her heart beat even faster. It was so hot to see him lose it like that with her.
He collapsed on top of her, finally letting her other hand go, and she wrapped her arms around him, sliding her hands up and down his sweaty back, relishing in the feel of his skin under hers.
“Damn, baby,” he said, sending her heart racing with the endearment, “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
She giggled.
“You should bottle that and sell it in your store. I would buy it.” He sighed, catching his breath, and she panted underneath him, not caring about the added weight. “Let me get off you,” he said, holding himself up again. “I’m probably crushing you with my weight.”
She winced as he pulled himself from her body and frowned at the loss.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing her cheek before he walked to her bathroom. She closed her eyes, feeling her spent muscles sag into the mattress. She began to drift, waking slightly as he wiped a warm washcloth between her legs then joined her in the bed, pulling the covers over their tired bodies.
“You’re not going to try and leave before I wake up, are you?” she mumbled, and he chuckled.
“Hadn’t planned on it.”
“Good,” she said, snuggling closer to his naked body. “If you had, I would have killed you.”
***
Claire woke again, this time with the faint light of morning adding clarity to the room and the man beside her nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses.
“Good morning,” she mumbled, doing her best to subtly wipe her face of any remnants of sleep in her eyes or drool on the side of her mouth.
Unexpectedly, his hand drifted to her hip. It settled there and pulled her closer. She inhaled sharply. She was against his warm chest, which was chiseled to perfection. Must he be so perfect? She splayed her hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead, she left it there.
“You never told me where your mark was,” he said, tracing over the mark in a figure eight instead of saying good morning back. It was common knowledge amongst the dragon friends that Claire was fire-blooded and by default, safe to speak candidly around.
“Because if I told you, you would have asked to see it,” she said smugly.
He pinched the mark that sat on her right hip. “I’ve already seen it.” He seemed to be singing, and she couldn’t help one-upping him.
“Well, don’t get any ideas about it. Just because I can have your babies doesn’t mean I would.”
He turned to face her, his head resting in his hand. Claire had always thought brown eyes were boring, normal, and plain. Having green eyes, she hadn’t realized just how beautiful brown eyes were, but staring at Desmond in the early morning light proved her wrong. His eyes were like a kaleidoscope, leaving the word ‘brown’ lacking. There was nothing boring about his eyes; in them, she could see a sunset all his own. “Like you wouldn’t want to with all these good genetics over here, girl,” he said.
She blew a raspberry. “And what about all these good genetics over here? Boy, you couldn’t resist these.”
He smirked and pounced, rolling her over onto her back. “You’re right about that. I want some of all this over and over again,” he said softly before kissing her lips.
In the sunlight, their skin stood out in stark contrast, and she liked it.
She smiled. “Don’t think buttering me up will get you breakfast.”
He laughed and rolled off her to get out of bed. “So, what will it get me then?”
“Coffee,” she said, laying back to take him all in.
Desmond was obviously a man who was comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t seem concerned at all about his nudity, and why would he be? He was a dragon. He stripped regularly.
“You got a brush?” he said, looking in the big mirror she had on the outside of her closet.
“Sure, right there.” She pointed to the small table where she kept her makeup, lotions, and hair utensils.
He glanced over the options and asked, “You got any harder brushes than this?”
“Nope,” she said. “What kind do you need?”
“One with hard bristles.”
She shook her head ‘no.’
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve got one in the car.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Um. No?” he said, and chuckled. “What’s the right answer here?”
“The right answer is no. You’re going to stay?”
“And what will I be doing all day while you’re at work?”
Claire shrugged and stood up on her knees to wrap her arms around his neck as he came to stand in front of the bed. “Whatever you want to do,” she said. “Do you ever take a day off? It seems like you’re always working. You should just rest for a while.”
He looked like he was thinking of saying no, so she scowled and then he laughed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She climbed out of bed and pulled a silk robe from her bathroom door. “Now let’s see about that coffee. Some of us have to work,” she said jokingly.
Desmond watched Claire make coffee as she struggled to remember the correct steps. After all, he was in her kitchen, in the daylight, shirtless, in ruffled pants, brushing his hair.
“I always wondered how you got your hair like that,” she said trying to keep it light.
“It’s called natural waves. I brush it to keep it going in this direction, but the curl is just the way I am. A little grease, a little water, and brush. Voila.”
“I wish my hair would curl like that,” she said pouring the black liquid into two mugs before reaching into her cabinet. She didn’t need to look since she knew where everything was.
“It’s already curly,” he said sitting at her table.
“No. It’s wavy, and sometimes when it’s frizzy it does something similar to your hair, but it doesn’t curl.”
“Um, I think you grabbed the wrong bottle,” he said, halting her movements instead of responding about the hair.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re pouring maple syrup into your coffee,” he said, looking pointedly at the bottle she was holding.
“I know.”
“Okay. Look, I know you like to be stubborn, but don’t try to defend that. Just admit you grabbed the wrong thing and move on.”
“No,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “No, I didn’t. I prefer this to sugar,” she said, continuing her morning routine and stirring it in.
“That’s why they make honey,” he said, sliding his cup away as if she might get ideas about putting syrup in his cup.
“Honey and maple syrup aren’t the same thing. Hence the name difference.”
“They basically are, though. Both have the same consistency and are good as a sweetener, except one is acceptable for consumption with beverages, and the other is strictly for food.”
“What are you? The food police? You don’t get to say what things are used for and restricted from. I use syrup in my coffee. So? Get over it. You better be hoping I don’t get started on your liking cream in your coffee.”
“I don’t think you really have a problem with that,” he said, blatantly looking at her naked legs.
She laughed and shook her head. “You know, I think that’s part of the appeal,” she said, sitting across from him at the table.
“What?”
“Arguing with you.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked before taking a sip of his black coffee.
“Yeah. It gets me hot. Makes me want to take you again.”
He set his cup down and leaned forward. “I think you’re mistaken, Ms. Stein. If memory serves me right, it was I who took you.”
She set her cup down and leaned in.
“Want to set the record straight?”
He bit his lip and sat back. “Hell yeah.”
By the time she and Desmond finished, her hair was hanging limp and wet around her face from sweat, the coffee was cold, and she was late to work. Still, she was happy, practically whistling as she walked, and she couldn’t have wiped the stupid grin off her face even if she had wanted to.