Hidden Dragons (23 page)

“I’m rushing this,” she blurted. “I shouldn’t—”

Rick got up, pulled her to her feet by the hands, and kissed her.

That calmed her nervousness like a charm. She wrapped her arms around him and sank in, loving how he squeezed her close to his hard body.

His
extra
hard body, to go by the long thick ridge forming between his thighs. The kiss intensified deliciously. For quite a while, neither of them let go.

His eyes glowed when he pulled back. With a quickening of her pulse, she realized the time for simply kissing was over. He quickly undid his flannel shirt, then started in on hers. The motions of his fingers turned her pussy nuclear.

“How can I want you so much?” she marveled.

Rick stilled, his touch paused in the act of sliding over her bare breasts. When he resumed breathing, the sound came faster. “Must be my wolf luck.”

He deserved to get lucky for sure. She unzipped her tailored trousers, wriggling them past her hips until they fell. Her hands now free, she attacked his button and zipper. His boxer briefs were bulging, the heat and heft of his erection enticing her. She reached into the cotton to stroke his thudding shaft. As always, his skin was amazingly silky. Out of respect for the genius that made him yummy, she had to explore him.

Pushing and pulling her hold up and down him was truly a pleasure.

His eyes drifted shut, a moan breaking in his throat. “Cass . . .”

“Take me,” she said, wanting to be crystal clear. “Don’t make me wait for this.”

She pulled her hand free and set her palms on his broad shoulders. Wolf light flared in his irises. Without arguing, he hiked her to his waist, her legs needing no urging to part around his hips. The denim he wore rubbed her thighs pleasantly.

“Right,” he said, hands tightening on her bottom.

She wasn’t prepared for him to use shifter speed on her. The cave blurred a second before her back hit a smooth stone wall. Her pulse and her arousal jumped. Rick didn’t give her time to recover. He kissed her, and adjusted her, and then his big rounded crest forged into her.

She groaned her enjoyment down his throat. No one felt like he did inside her—that smooth, that big, that incredibly alive. He was too much and just right at the same time. He pressed deeper, stretching her, answering her groan with an equally hungry one.

His head dropped once he was in all the way, the huffing of his breath hot on her shoulder. She stroked his thick hair and wriggled on his spear, not wanting him to stop.

“Okay,” he said in response. He braced his knees on the rock. “Okay.”

Then he went to town on her.

The rapid pounding of his hips was perfect, the depth and force of each inward drive. Every grunt excited her, every sensation. The heady scent of his arousal rose higher as he got sweaty. Cass couldn’t contain her reactions. She slid her hands under the back of his flannel shirt and let herself soar with him.

The pair of them came in under two minutes.

His gland swelled for the finish. She felt the snugness within her gate as her muscles tightened helplessly on him. He growled and ejaculated, his enjoyment at the increase in pressure obvious.

“Good,” he said, in case she had any doubt. “God, I love fucking you standing up.”

His thrusts had slowed but not stopped. Pleasure continued to twist his face as he went in and out. She’d heard male wolves were like this. A single climax didn’t always finish them. The idea that he’d want more was welcome. She squirmed on him as her interest recovered.

“Do it again,” she gasped.

He’d dropped his head to nuzzle and suck her neck. He lifted it at her words. His lids were heavy but not with sleepiness. “Right now?”

She smiled. “If you’d be so kind.”

She guessed he would. His cock hadn’t softened much, but now it jerked fuller inside of her. His weight held her securely against the rock, the strength of her legs sufficient to keep the motions of their hips where they both wanted them. Rick took her hands, moving them from his back and up the rock to either side of her head. He held her there, not allowing her arms to move. When he wove their fingers together—some metal and some flesh—she knew he was imagining what truly trapping her would be like.

“I’m yours,” she promised. “I can’t get away from you.”

His expression flickered, going darker and wilder. “Cass—”

His tone held more wonder than worry.

“Do it,” she encouraged.

He didn’t go as fast as the first time, but he went hard. He was very focused, as if each jolting plunge mattered. He brought her twice, after which he disengaged and carried her to the soft bedroll. She’d have conked out after all those orgasms, but he kissed his way down her body and wound her up again. Lord, he was good at giving head—teasing and nibbling and sucking her tirelessly. His tongue was agile, his fingers hard as iron as they controlled her wild thrashing.

Her wildness was due to his refusal to let her come, which she wanted quite a lot by then. He wouldn’t enter her either, not until she begged him.

He might have held off longer, but her moaning
please
pushed buttons he had trouble resisting.

“You’re a bad, bad man,” she panted, smacking his sweating chest when he finally rose over her on his arms and pushed in.

“No, I’m not.” He paused to groan at how wonderful the long penetration felt. He was
really
hard now, having held off his pleasure while he teased her. A lovely swivel and grind of his pelvis lodged his throbbing cock all the way in her. “You’re annoyed because I’m just that good.”

She laughed, unable to deny it.

“God,” he breathed, seeing her break up. “I feel like I’ve loved you forever.”

She touched his face, sudden tears stinging in her eyes. He smiled.

“Now we’ll be sweet,” he predicted.

They were sweet, riding each other slow and easy to their last sighing peaks. They didn’t rush, though they both wanted to. Watching Rick unravel delighted Cass as much as her own climax.

When it was over, he rolled off her and collapsed.

They both were a complete mess, and Rick was down for the count. Laughing softly, Cass went to warm some water for washing up.

Loving people wasn’t just complicated; it was sticky.

SOMETHING warm and furry stretched across Cass’s feet.

“That better be the cat,” Rick said. He sounded remarkably awake. Probably it was a wolf thing—being able to snap alert at a pin drop.

“Pretty sure it is,” she mumbled. They were in the sleeping bag for once, though Rick had only pulled the covering to their waists. “What time is it?”

“Midnight. You sure she can breathe down there?”

Cass sat up and shoved her hair from her face. “Cats like to be where it’s warm.”

“I never had one. I guess she’s getting used to me.”

“Poly is a girl. How could she resist a big, strong—”

Rick touched her arm. “Sh,” he said, his head cocking to the side. “I hear something.”

Cass shushed, but all she heard was the fire crackling.

Rick rose onto his elbow, his dark brows climbing his forehead. “I think the eggs are hatching.”

Cass’s heart gave a big hard thump. This couldn’t be happening so soon. “I’m not ready.”

Rick grinned. “Better get ready,” he advised.

Cass scrambled out of the bedroll, grabbing her shirt and panties to pull on. Rick seemed to find this amusing.

“I don’t think they’ll know if you’re naked.”

“What?”

“I don’t think—”

“Oh hush,” she said before he could repeat himself. “Get out of bed and help.”

She heard him complying but didn’t watch. When he joined her on the boulder that overlooked the improvised nest, he’d dragged on his jeans. His broad chest was bare, his smooth tanned side warming hers. Like her, he leaned forward across his knees. Cass still couldn’t hear anything, but one of the silvery spheres seemed to have the tiniest fracture.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to help,” Rick said. “On nature shows, turtles and whatever get themselves out of their own eggs.”

“Right,” she said, “but we should keep an eye on them.”

He rubbed her back through the flannel shirt. She glanced at him, and his head tilted. “I hear heartbeats. All three of them are stirring.”

Barely able to breathe, Cass pressed her hands together before her mouth. A hole appeared in the egg that had the crack. Unable to help herself, she clutched Rick’s bicep. Despite his calm exterior, he seemed excited too.

“I see it,” he said softly.

Letting the dragons peck their own way into the world might have been the hardest thing she had ever done. If Rick hadn’t been there to assure her they all were fine, she probably would have tried to assist them. Luckily, he held her hand very tightly for the next quarter hour. The first little dragon had wriggled out by then, only to collapse in an instant nap. The second got its head and one leg out and was working on widening the opening. The third took so long Cass was gnawing her thumbnail by the time its small nose poked out.

Her heart rate settled when she saw it too was all right.

Finally all three dragons had clawed and clambered shakily from their shells. Cass took her first non-panicked survey of them.

“Hm,” she said. “They look really . . .”

“Homely?” Rick suggested, like he was about to laugh.

“I was going to say
puny
, but that too.”

“Those eggs
were
small,” he admitted, as if he too found their newly hatched charges underwhelming. “I’m sure they’ll get bigger.”

Like their eggs, the little dragons were gray with a silvery sheen. Their semi-transparent skin, through which their tiny veins and organs could be observed, looked like it might get scaly. At the moment, it resembled a plucked chicken’s. Though the hatchlings had four legs and tails like lizards, they definitely weren’t as mobile as babies of that species. Their wings, which they intermittently spread and twitched, were clearly not much use except to prevent them from falling over. Cass was glad for the cookie tin’s rabbit fur lining. Seemingly unable to travel in a straight line, the newborns wove and bobbled like they’d had too much dragon wine.

“They look drunk,” Rick observed.

Cass started to laugh but stopped. “Oh my God, maybe they are. Maybe I channeled too much magic to them through the protective cage.”

“No,” Rick soothed. “They probably don’t have a sense of balance yet. If you’d been stuck in an egg for a couple centuries, you might be dizzy too. Also, I don’t think their eyes are open.”

This could explain why one of the dragons bumped into its brother or sister and toppled on its side. Opening its little nose or muzzle or whatever the hell it was, it let out a birdlike wail.

Suddenly, its unimpressive looks didn’t matter. Cass had to comfort it.

“Aw,” she said, gathering it gently into her palm. Its itty-bitty claws tried to grab onto her skin as it continued to tremble and cry out. “You’re okay, little man. Or girl. Whichever.” The hatchling was warm, its baby heart beating rapidly. Its apparently prehensile tail chose one of her fingers to wind around. As it settled on her palm, its cries quieted. Cass felt a surge of affection, but also helplessness. “I was hoping they’d be able to protect themselves after they hatched. Breathe fire or fly away or
something
. These little guys couldn’t make a flame as big as a match head.”

“On the plus side, as small as they are, they won’t be too hard to hide.”

“Pocket dragons,” she said, unable to resist the pun.

Rick chuckled. The rich low sound startled the other two. They started cheeping and wailing like the first one.

“Oh boy.” Giving in to the same urge as her, Rick reached into the nest to pick them up. The magic cage wasn’t designed to keep him out, and he held them gently against his chest. “We better figure out what they eat. All this noise would give them away.”

Cass stroked the head of her dragon with one finger. Its miniature dorsal spikes were rubbery. “We could try milk, I guess. Or blood in an eyedropper. I didn’t see teeth when they were wailing.”

The dragon’s head bobbed at her stroking, a croon swelling from its throat. Cass crooned back, and it opened dual eyelids.

A shock snapped through her. She sensed . . . awareness. A little thinker lived behind those silver eyes—a baby, yes, but something more than a baby animal.

She looked at the pair Rick held. With perfect timing, they opened their eyes too. Immediately, all three dragons stopped crying. They were staring at her, their bright scarlet mouths agape. They couldn’t really be shocked, but they looked it.

“Holy cow,” she murmured.

“What?” Rick said.

Cass felt slightly embarrassed. “Um,” she said. “I think I just imprinted them.”

~

Rick was no authority on dragon beauty, but the hatchlings’ appearance seemed improved by the next morning. Their former chicken skin was now opaque and scaled, and had developed a sheen of color over its silvery base. One of the dragons looked like it might turn green, another gold, and the final one deep red. They were toddling more confidently around their nest, even peeking over its edge curiously.

Poly, naturally, found their jerky movements enthralling.

“I’m keeping that enchanted cage up,” Cass warned the cat, stooping to give her a pet and scratch. “We’ll introduce you when they’re bigger.”

“They don’t seem afraid of her,” Rick observed. The red dragon, the smallest of the three, stretched its foreleg over the edge of the cookie tin toward the cat.

“That doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be. Or vice versa, for all we know.”

Rick handed her the snaptop plastic container into which he’d poured a few ounces of rabbit blood.

“I hope they drink this,” she said. “I don’t know what we’ll rig for a bottle if they need to be fed that way.”

The greenish dragon—the biggest, relatively speaking—sniffed at the meal she’d set down.

“Try it,” Cass encouraged. Goose bumps rippled across Rick’s shoulders. The dragon looked up at her as if it understood.