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Authors: Ronin Winters

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BOOK: Granite
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Chapter Five

 

 

The screams of the other women were still loud in her ears as Frost woke up, sweat so strong on her body her nose crinkled in disgust at the odor. She wiped her hand over her face to get rid of some of it, but beneath her eyes – that wetness wasn’t sweat.

Throwing the covers off her, Frost rose to walk to the kitchen. Damn dreams. It had been a couple weeks since she’d had one, and it’d just gotten to the point that she began to hope maybe she wouldn’t be bothered with another.

The worst part wasn’t even the dream. It was the after. The terror that was still flooding her body though her mind knew there was nothing to fear and nothing to fight. The lingering images she couldn’t quite shake away. The whimpers that sat in the hollow of her throat, sounds she could not utter, had no reason to utter, but still desperately wanted to.

She cleared her throat and gulped down some water when her phone caught her eye, lying on the kitchen counter. She walked over and grabbed it up, hitting the button to wake up the home screen.

A new message was waiting for her from Granite.

What did the exasperated dragon say on the battlefield?

I was told there’d be knights like this.

She burst out laughing at the ridiculous words. He must have sent it after she went to bed for the night. They’d been texting a good chunk of the day before she had, with a whole lot of reluctance, told him she needed her beauty sleep.

Really, they’d been texting a good chunk of the last month. The man was intelligent and engaging and silly and solicitous, and he never once suggested they should meet again in person, a situation that had relieved her in the beginning, but was becoming more and more bothersome.

How long did it take you to come up with that joke?

Frost hadn’t been expecting a response, but it came within a minute.
I claim no credit. I found it on the internet. Why are you up?

Why are you?
Deflection seemed the best response at the moment. He’d caught her flat-footed, and she needed a moment to regroup.

Need to monitor the Asian stock markets tonight.

Which of course he did. Knowing him as she’d come to, that answer made total sense.
You are such a math nerd.

Oh baby, talk stock futures to me.

The male was beyond endearingly ridiculous. Going to her usual text position of prone on the couch, Frost continued.
Don’t you know that with your looks, you’re supposed to be an international playboy?

You think I’m cute?
And the fool sent an emoji of the yellow face winking and flexing one upper arm to show muscle.

I think your grandma might need to smack you again.

Which explains why I’m not an international playboy.

Score one for grandma.
The more she spoke to him, the more the desire built to meet his family. He spoke about them with such love and affection. They were obviously close, the kind of family that those like her dreamed about as they grew up without familial bonds.

Why are you up?

Frost sighed. Of course he wouldn’t leave that alone. The dragon was relentless with having his curiosity sated. She didn’t know if it was a dragon thing or purely a Granite thing, but it was a reality.
Bad dream.

There was no buzz for several minutes, which in itself was unusual, because Granite rarely kept her waiting for a reply. It was flattering as hell, but it had obviously spoiled her. He was up late working, and she was feeling bereft because he didn’t respond in under sixty seconds.

She was about to put the phone down when his response came through.
Every warrior carries the scars of their heroism.

This was…This was…
I’m no warrior.

Every woman in that room with you said differently. I walked into that room and I
saw
differently. If you believe nothing else I say, please believe this truth.

Not now. Not with the dream so fresh in her mind, with screams still ringing in her ears. But…later. She’d think on his words later.

He’d only asked one thing of her, to believe this. So for him, later.

Tell me another joke.

And another quick response.
What’s the difference between a dinosaur and a dragon?

 

************

 

“Arch your back a little more, and tilt your hips to the left.”

Frost followed Leon’s directions as around her men with mirrors and lights scurried and the photographer himself paced back and forth, camera completely obscuring his face.

It was the end of a long shoot. Leon was a genius, but synonymous with
genius
was
demanding
, and Leon had that in spades. Her body ached more now than it had after some exercise classes. First thing she was doing when she got home was sinking into the tub.

Leon paused, pulling the camera down and flipping through the pictures that were stored on the camera, and intense look of concentration on his face. He gave a decisive nod, saying, “I have what I need. These will be perfect for the client.”

With that, everyone broke and the clean-up began. With the shoot finished, Leon once again gave her a cautious look before scurrying away, and a female assistant came up to her. “You looked gorgeous, great work. You are free to get cleaned up and head out whenever.”

“Thank you.”

They were working in the studio today. Since she was the only model, she locked the door of the dressing room after entering, flopping down on the long chaise lounge with a groan. She needed to grab a shower since it was a lingerie shoot and she had make-up all over her body, but at this moment, she was too tired to move in that direction. Just one minute to relax, and she’d get up.

Really. One minute. Swear to God.

Her phone pinged from the side table, and a smile slid over her lips before she even read the name.
How was the shoot?

Down to the minute. Do you have a spy here?

No spy, but I think I frightened Leon a bit more than I meant to. The cat insists on texting me exact details whenever he works with you.

So you’re admitting to scaring him?

If Frost was more fanciful, she would swear she could feel Granite’s sudden nervousness of being caught. Of course she knew some kind of behind-the-scenes discussion took place, but this was the confirmation that Granite might not have been totally cool and collected during it.

I didn’t force him to work with you. Please believe that. As soon as he heard your name, the cat practically began salivating.

And you didn’t like that, did you?
Dear heavens, what was she doing? This text was tiptoeing on the line she’d been very conscious of staying away from, the line Granite never strayed towards in all these weeks of talking to one another.

But she’d wanted to. There was a small part of her that wanted to that first day, but it was easily pushed aside. As time went on, though, as she knew more and more about the dragon, she found herself looking towards that line more and more. And then, after her nightmare and their talk, crossing that line began to look
so
tempting.

Frost?

Uncertainty practically vibrated from the text, and his uncertainty calmed her own. She knew when a man was interested. Granite had been more than interested at that first meeting, though he’d kept everything proper, and he had stayed interested through all their conversations. He was so interested she could taste it on her tongue, and she reveled in her power over this magnificent male. He wouldn’t make a move, not until she allowed it.

Did you like it? Looking at him and knowing he was thinking about what it would be like to bed me?

The banked anger could practically be felt through the text.
No, I did not like it at all.

Did he talk about it? What he’d like to do to me?

If he had said one word about you I would have beat him to the ground, and I let him know it.

Fuck, that one sentence turned her on more than she sometimes felt with another’s hands on her.
How about you? Have you thought what you’d like to do to me?

Frost, what are you doing?

The powerful feeling grew within her. He was hesitant, taking care, even as she served him such a bold invitation. He was hers to command, and tonight, she was going to demand the destruction of that line.

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Leon’s text came just as expected.
She’s headed to the dressing room now. Shoot was professional.

Granite had no doubt it was. Leon liked his pleasures, and to him, no one woman was worth them being taken away.
Of course, that meant he was a complete fool, because Frost was worth everything being taken away.

Not that Granite was going to let anyone take away any of
his
treasure. He was looking forward to using it to spoil his mate and their hatchlings. He’d seen her collection of shoes, and used that knowledge to make arrangements with a few designers for a special engagement gift.

He waited only a short time before sending Frost a text.
How was the shoot?

Down to the minute. Do you have a spy here?

Though she wasn’t there to see, he covered his mouth with a hand to hide a smile. While he couldn’t deny he wanted her by his side, there was a pleasure in these last weeks of getting to know each other this way. He loved her quick responses and small quips and self-effacing tendencies, which how the hell could a woman who looked like she did possess? She was generous, and hid it well. He had no shame in looking through her financial records, because like hell his mate would be left wanting. She hadn’t needed him to intervene so he hadn’t, but he did notice that once she began modelling and making money again, donations to several causes were regularly made. Looking back through the records, it became clear this was a long time thing. The only change was there were a couple new charities added, for women in situations similar to hers.

Dragons hoarded and guarded, but that was one reason they needed a mate. A mate kept that impulse under control, kept the dragon looking outward to others and not always inward on their own greed. Granite might never be able to easily let go of his treasure, but he knew Frost wouldn’t allow him any excuse to not give.

No doubt Frost had a near perfect face and body, but it was her spirit and her soul that left him enthralled. He loved that woman with everything in him, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

He knew, once he did, he could never let her go.
No spy, but I think I frightened Leon a bit more than I meant to. The cat insists on texting me exact details whenever he works with you.

So you’re admitting to scaring him?

Nerves shot through Granite at her response. That admission may have been a little too careless. Of course she knew he’d spoken to the cat to keep things professional, but this was definitely admitting to taking it further than pure business.

He didn’t want Frost to think he had forced the photographer to work with her. She was proud of her work and, even with the difficulties of getting used to the wolf, was hard-working and serious about her career. She would not like the feeling that somehow she’d been ‘bought’ this job.
I didn’t force him to work with you. Please believe that. As soon as he heard your name, the cat practically began salivating.

There was a small wait for a response, a lifetime of a wait, because he didn’t want her anger. They’d been slowly becoming more intimate in their discussions, more trusting. He didn’t want that progress lost.

Then came her response.
And you didn’t like that, did you?

Uncertainty was not a usual emotion for him, but it ripped through him now. The downside of a text was you couldn’t tell tone or expression from letters on a glowing screen. This response…it could be read very straightforward, asking a question only.

But it didn’t feel like it. It didn’t feel like an innocent inquiry, or even a question asked out of anger. It felt heady, like she had finally decided to step forward, to take him by the hand and lead him where they both desired.

Frost?

He had to be sure. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – make a move without it. It wasn’t merely the mating call now. It was him being in love with a woman who could destroy him if she ultimately didn’t love him back. He would do nothing to damage their relationship.

Did you like it? Looking at him and knowing he was thinking about what it would be like to bed me?

The provocation couldn’t be accidental. She was no innocent, and the picture her words created made his dick ache and brought back the anger that rushed through him the day he’d spoken to Leon, and saw the cat lick his lips at the mention of Frost’s name.
No, I did not like it at all.

Did he talk about it? What he’d like to do to me?

There was no doubt. She knew what she was doing. She was goading him, demanding he begin to move past the limits they had set when they began these conversations.
If he had said one word about you I would have beat him to the ground, and I let him know it.

How about you? Have you thought what you’d like to do to me?

Frost, what are you doing?
He had to make sure, no matter that the dragon beat inside him to break free and follow where its mate led. He had to know that Frost truly wanted this, that this was not a small insanity she would regret, and then take her regret out on him.

I’m talking to my dragon, and telling him I’ve thought about what I want to do to him. I’m just wondering if he shared those thoughts.

Pure pleasure curled through him at being referred to as her dragon, enough to almost obliterate the sensual heat that exploded at her admission.
I have. These last weeks have been nothing except thinking of you.

And what have you thought about?

One image rose to the surface amongst the myriad thoughts. It was Frost in his grandmother’s kitchen. They were sitting at the table with her in his lap. His grandmother kept putting food down in front of her and admonishing her to eat. His mother and sisters would tell her every horrible thing he did growing up, and his myriad nephews and nieces would be running around the house, eliciting the occasional yell from a parent to slow down. And through it all Frost would be smiling, laughing even as she heard yet another story that supported her math nerd image of him.
I’ve thought of you at my grandmother’s house. All of the women would gang up on me and tell you stories that would confirm I really am a nerd, and you’d all laugh at my expense.

It wasn’t the response she was wanting. He might have made a tactical error in moving too soon too fast. She wanted to play, and he had, in essence, confessed his feelings for her. But he had to. It had felt wrong to let her think he’d do this with anyone else, that these last weeks were only because he was searching for an attractive female body or any crap like that. She saw that so often in her day-to-day world, and he couldn’t handle being lumped in with that type of man.

Emma.

What?

My real name. It’s Emma. I want you to introduce me to your family properly, though they can call me either Frost or Emma after that. I like both, really.

The breath he released was not a sob, and no one was around to disagree. Taking a moment so his fingers could stop shaking, he typed out,
Can I still call you Frost?

I hoped you would. So, any thoughts on what you might do about this?

A picture followed the text, showing from her ear and the side of her face down the length of her gorgeous neck, ending at her collarbone.

Granite swallowed, his fingers now trembling from a different source of emotion.
Do you like having your neck kissed?

Love it. I especially love when someone marks me up.

How he had imagined marking her up. He’d spend hours nibbling on her if she’d allow it, starting at her neck and ending at her ankles, and not a sliver of skin in-between would have been missed by his teeth and tongue and lips.
I want to whisper in your ear and make you laugh as I do. I want to feel your breath on my neck while the vibrations of your laughter travel through my body. Then I want to nibble my way down until I’m sucking on your neck. I want to leave a bruise so large and so dark make-up couldn’t cover it.

I think my dragon is a little possessive.

Your dragon is a lot possessive.
His dragon threw its head back in agreement, wild within him at his mate’s written words, how she was accepting their claim on her.

A new picture, one that had him leaning heavily in his chair. Frost was wearing a black bra, a small thing made of lace and strings and not much else. However, for this picture, she had pulled down one of the bra straps so it now hung limply from her arm, causing the bra cup to slip down and reveal the top of her pretty pink nipple.

His next text was sent before he could rethink the words.
Pinch your nipple. Next picture, I want to see it pointed and tight.

Thirty seconds passed before the next picture came. Now her full nipple showed above her bra cup, the tip tight. Then her words followed the picture.
I want you to put it in your mouth and suck. I want your tongue running over it, and your teeth nipping it. Maybe you could even run the head of your cock over it. It would be another way to mark me, right?

His dick went to rock-hard ready at that image, of him putting his cock between her full lips so she could wet him, then using that wetness to trail over her breasts.
Fucking hell, please let me.

Take off your shirt and send me a picture of your chest.

Her wish was his command, and in short order she had pictures of his arms, his chest, and his cock straining the confines of his slacks.

Now another picture from her came through. She was laying down, the camera directed to show the length of her body from her breasts to her legs. Gloriously naked, her full breasts no longer restrained by the bra, and if she had been wearing underwear, she wasn’t now.

She had a small triangle of curls between her thighs only a little darker than that on her head, and he loved that she did, because he liked nothing more than to nuzzle into those hairs and inhale. Now, with the added satisfaction that the scent would be his mate’s, there was the very real fear that once he got her naked, he’d never leave her alone.

Are you going to touch yourself to my picture?

A war could break out around him and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself after reading those words. His dick bobbed as it was set free, and with a hiss he wrapped his hand around himself, taking a picture with the other.
Only you do this to me. Are you wet to the thought of me?

He stroked himself as he imagined her licking her lips as she took in his picture, her body dripping as it readied itself for him.

As if his thoughts made it a reality, the next picture was taken between her spread legs, giving him a close look at her pussy. Two fingers were shown to the camera, the wetness on them visible.
That’s what your pictures and your words and your cock do to me. I’m so wet my fingers are slipping from my pussy.

Rub your clit. Show me.

The picture was a close-up of that tight little nub, one manicured finger on the side of it, as if she took the picture mid-circle, moisture still shining over her hand.

His orgasm washed over him, spurts of come decorating his bare chest as he worked himself through every aftershock, and every time he thought he’d finish, another look at the picture would cause yet another small tremor.

When he was finally finished he took a picture of his cock laying against his stomach, stripes of come over his torso.
That’s what you do to me.

It was two minutes of silence before another picture appeared. This one was her face, eyes languid, mouth slightly open, the two fingers she’d been using to play with herself now resting on her mouth.
This is me after that picture made me climax. I’m tasting my release on my fingers. If you were here, I’d put my fingers in your mouth and make you lick up every drop.

You wouldn’t make me. If I were there, I’d spread your legs and dive in until I licked every bit of you, and then I’d make you come again, just to repeat the process.

Is that so? Then I think I know what your first challenge will be when I get my hands on you.

 

BOOK: Granite
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