How to Drive a Dragon Crazy

“Plan something for tomorrow, so they don’t have time to come up with an excuse, and start with Rhi. She always ropes in the other two. And bring that pale boy who’s been lurking around.”

“His name’s Frederik, and from what I hear he’ll be staying for a while.”

“Perfect. Take them for a picnic or something.”

“Will you come?”

“I’m off to Devenallt Mountain tomorrow with Gwenvael and Briec to meet with Bercelak.”

“Anything wrong?”

“No, not at all. Just time to look at Mum’s armies and see if we should be doing anything different. At least that’s the plan. What it really ends up being is Dad and Briec arguing, me sighing a lot, and Gwenvael pissing Dad off so much that at some point he has to duck a tail to the eye. To be honest, I’d rather be on a picnic with the pale boy.”

Annwyl rested her chin on her raised fist. “No Éibhear?”

“No Éibhear what?”

“He’s not coming to this meeting?”

“Why should he? He’s not in Mum’s army. He’s a Mì-runach.”

“I really don’t know what that means, although you all say it with that mix of disgust and horror in your voices.”

“It means he’s a violent bastard that can’t be trusted around the army. So, no. He won’t be there.”

“Personally, I think you’re all too hard on him. You’re still treating him like a baby. He’s a grown dragon now, Fearghus. Quite matured.”

“Yeah,” Fearghus snorted, not really seeing it. “Right. Quite matured.”

Izzy reached out blindly, her hand pressing against the stone wall of the room she always slept in any time she’d come to visit her Uncle Bram with Brannie. But to be honest, at this moment, she really had no idea where she was, why she was here, or even what her name was. At this moment, all she knew was that it was a stone wall her hand was pressing against and the biggest, most talented c**k she’d ever had inside her was making her come. Again.

Her toes curled, and her hard breaths turned into a short scream, her body tightening around the male currently on top of her, kissing her, f**king her.

She hadn’t known it would be like this. She’d dreamed it would be like this, but she’d never thought it actually would be. Too many times, Izzy, Brannie, and often Brannie’s sisters talked about the potential some male had one day and the sad disappointment he turned out to be the next. Sometimes, one of them might be pleasantly surprised or damn happy. But this?

Gods, this . . .

Izzy tore her mouth away from Éibhear’s because she couldn’t breathe, that orgasm still ripping through her system. But pulling away was a mistake because Éibhear took the opportunity to nip the side of her neck. Something that she secretly adored. And, gods, once he’d discovered that, if she didn’t find other uses for his mouth, he drove her insane with the gods-damn nipping.

Whimpering, her body shaking, Izzy felt Éibhear bite down on a spot right beneath her ear and somehow, some way, the bastard got another orgasm out of her when the last one hadn’t quite finished.

As Izzy screamed out again, she was so glad that when this was all over, they wouldn’t be talking about it. They wouldn’t be analyzing it. Because if she thought about any of this too much, she’d end up back where she started at sixteen. Head over boots for a big blue bastard with gorgeous blue hair who couldn’t make up his bloody mind about what he wanted.

Izzy cried out again, her amazing legs tightening around his waist. Éibhear’s eyes crossed at the grip her legs had on him. He’d never known a female, human or dragoness, who had legs as strong as Izzy. Legs that held him so tight he was positive he saw stars.

He reached over and caught hold of the hand Izzy had pressed to the wall and pinned it against the bed. She whimpered when he did that. Gods, he loved when she whimpered. Just the sound of it made his toes curl.

Between the whimpering, the panting, the incredibly strong thighs, and the way her pu**y gripped his c**k like the tightest fist he’d ever felt, Éibhear could say, with all honesty, that this was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.

He knew that now because he realized he’d been right all those years ago about Izzy. He might have been young, but he’d never been stupid, and he’d known from the beginning that she was trouble. Trouble wrapped up in long legs and a bright smile. Of course, it was even worse now because he felt no guilt. None. The longer he stayed inside her—and he had every intention of staying inside her all night—the less he cared about anyone or anything except what was happening between them at this moment.

So what if his brother thought of Izzy as his daughter? So what if all of Éibhear’s kin considered her a niece, a cousin, a grandchild? So what if she was the most feared general in all the territories? So what if she had feet as big as Annwyl’s? Who cared? He didn’t. Not anymore.

Éibhear pulled his mouth away from her neck and Izzy leaned up, pressed her forehead against his chin, then brought her mouth up and bit his jaw. At the same time, she tightened her pu**y so that he came hard, his entire body pinning her to the bed as he continued to f**k her until he was dry.

He clung to her for a bit before he finally rolled off. Both of them covered in sweat and panting, they lay there for a good ten minutes until Izzy finally admitted, “You know . . . still not out of my system.”