Shades Of Dragon (A BBW Dragon-Shifter Paranormal Romance) (8 page)

      “Tegan,” she moaned, her body arching as she pressed herself more fully against his mouth. “Oh yes, please, don’t stop.” Her breathing came faster as he licked and sucked at her, sliding his tongue beneath her folds to find her clit. She cried out when he bit down on it gently, then sucked, and suddenly she broke into a series of trembles and cries, her womanhood flowing freely with her juices.

      “Oh god, yes, yes!” She cried, her hands fisting at her sides as she came. Tegan watched her greedily, continuing to lick and suck at her until she was completely spent, collapsing against the ground.

      “My turn,” he growled, peeling off his boots and pants, and then he settled himself between her legs, nudging them wider to accommodate his larger frame. She settled herself comfortably, tilting her hips to give him better access, and he gripped them, positioning himself just at the tip of her entrance.

      “Ooh,” she moaned as he rubbed the head of his cock against her pussy, coating himself in her juices. “You make me feel so good, Tegan.”

      “I promise, this is going to feel even better,” he growled, and then he thrust inside her.

      The pleasure of feeling her tight, wet sheath contract around him was muted as pain rippled across her beautiful features. As the scent of blood hit the air, shock reverberated through him as he realized what he’d done. “You… you’re a virgin?”

      She stilled beneath him. “Not anymore,” she confirmed, her lips curving into a smile.

      He cursed, preparing to pull out. “You should have told me,” he began, “I never would have –.”

      “Don’t you dare,” she growled, her eyes sparking with fire. She grabbed his hips, her nails digging into his bottom as she drove him back inside her, and a moan echoed from her throat. “You can’t stop now,” she panted. “Not now when we’re this far in.”

      A groan of his own reverberated from his throat at the sight of her beneath him, the primal urge in his chest demanding that he make her his, this beautiful vixen with fire in her eyes that could match the flames of any self-respecting dragon shifter. Unable to resist the call of her siren’s lure, he bent his head down, and captured her mouth in a slow, scintillating kiss.

      “I’ll start slow,” he said. “Let me know if I hurt you.”

      She nodded, and he began moving inside her, slow, deliberate thrusts that were as torturous as they were wonderful. He found himself enjoying the slow, careful motions, which was different for him – usually he liked to go fast and hard, but this time he was content to savor the experience, to really just immerse himself in the sensations, sights and the sounds involved with making love with her. The wet slap of flesh against flesh as they connected. The feel of his hard muscles, sinking into her soft curves. The scent of her arousal, mixed with her vanilla-cardamom scent, which filled the cave with a heady, erotic aroma that practically made him giddy.

     
Gods, he wasn’t going to be able to just have sex with her this one time and forget about it. This was going to become an addiction
, he could already sense it.
He was going to have to have her again, and again, and again. And even then it probably wouldn’t be enough.

      But strangely, the prospect of that didn’t frighten him, but only excited instead.

      “You’re so handsome,” she said, reaching up to touch his face. “I love your eyes.”

      He smiled down at her. “You’re the one with the beautiful eyes,” he insisted. “I could stay here and watch them forever.”

      He kissed her again, and though it started off long and slow, she began to urge him faster, her tongue stroking insistently against his, as she lifted her hips up and down, picking up the pace and forcing him to keep up. Soon they were both moving faster, pushing themselves closer and closer to the edge, their breaths turning into pants, sweat pouring off their brows as they tried to outrun the impending climax, not wanting this to end, and yet anticipating the inevitable rush.

      When it finally happened, when she finally stiffened beneath him and cried out, her inner walls clenching around him, he let himself go, spilling his seed in a hot rush as glorious pleasure swept through him. It was unlike any orgasm he’d ever had in his life, this wonderful waves of sensation that just kept coming, and coming, and coming until he was spent and gasping, his body collapsed on top of hers and utterly sated. He could fall asleep right here, dead to the world, and if he never woke up again he would have no regrets.

      “Tegan,” Ciara gasped beneath him. “You… you’re heavy.”

     
Oops.
“Sorry,” he said, quickly rolling off her. “I…. I guess I got a little carried away there.”

      She smiled at him as she rolled onto her side, giving him a fantastic view of her breasts. “No, not at all. You were perfect. This was perfect.”

      “Are you sure?” Concern for her began to intrude on his afterglow, and he reached out to touch her face. “I really had no idea you were a true maiden. If I had – ”

      She cut him off by pulling him against her for a kiss. “Like I said, you were perfect,” she murmured against his lips. “Please, don’t worry about it. I would have not wanted anyone else to do this for me. Even if we never meet again, I will always cherish this moment.”

      Warmth spread through his body at her glowing praise, and he kissed her. “Oh, you better see me again,” he teased her, though his eyes glistened with the truth of his feelings. “I need more of you.”

      She smiled, then snuggled in tight against him. “I can live with that.”

      They held each other, listening to one another’s breathing, and the steady crackle and pop of the fire, and in no time they were fast asleep.

Chapter Eight

 

 

“Tegan. Tegan.”

      Tegan groaned and buried his face in Ciara’s hair. Grey’s voice was echoing in his head, reminding him that he needed to get up and go back to the clan, but his senses told him the sun hadn’t risen yet, and he wanted a little more sleep.
Just another hour…
that’s all he needed. And then he’d go out with Ciara, and leave the warmth and safety of this little nest they’d built, to go face the problems of the real world.

      “Tegan! Wake up!”

      Tegan sat up abruptly at the sound of Grey’s voice calling him sharply. His mouth dropped open as he saw Grey’s face staring back at him out of the fire. “Grey?” he gasped, scrambling over to the fire to stare opened mouthed at his friends’s face. “What the hell are you doing in the fire?”

      Grey’s scowl deepened. “Tegan,” he growled sternly. “I’m using a spell to send you a message. It’s old magic, a spell I bought from the last wizards who came through our territory. Now tell me, why on earth are you naked and sleeping in a cave… with a human woman?”

      A healthy flush stained Tegan’s cheeks. “I… um… that’s the mayor’s daughter.”

      Grey’s eyes widened. “The mayor’s daughter? For God’s sakes son, don’t you know what the hell is going on? This isn’t the time for such things!”

      Shame curled in Tegan’s gut, and he heard Ciara stirring behind him. “I’m sorry, Grey. It’s just – “

      “Grey?” Ciara said sleepily, and Tegan turned to see her crawling over to the fire, clutching the dress at her chest for modesty. “How is it that you are appearing within the fire?”

      “Oh my,” Grey said. “It’s lovely to see you again, my dear, I just wish it were under better, and perhaps more appropriate circumstances.” He turned his scowl toward Tegan again. “I’m sending you this message to let you know not to come back to the clan right now. The sentries have been told to shoot you on site, if you approach.”     

      Shock and anger flared in Tegan’s chest. “What? Why would they do that? Who gave such an order?”

      “Drake, of course,” Grey said bitterly. “My very fine nephew was just informed by Prophet that you were seen ransacking one of the villages with a group of Firewalker shifters, and that you decided to turn traitor. Naturally, Drake decided to take him at his word, and you’ve now been banished from the village. If you come back here, they will kill you.”

      Anger and dread filled Tegan’s chest, as hot and heavy as an anvil that had just been recently struck by a very heavy hammer. “But that’s outrageous!” he exclaimed. “I’m not the one who’s working with the Firewalkers, Prophet is.”

      Grey nodded. “It seems as though Prophet has tried to frame you, and so far he has succeeded. Unless you come back here with strong evidence to present to the council otherwise, you will be killed if you show up again.”

      “So then we have to find proof,” Ciara said matter of factly.

      Tegan raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s easier said than done.”

      “But still possible, isn’t it?” She challenged, her own eyebrows arching. “I mean, if my father is still alive we should go and find him, and bring everyone else back. Their testament should be more than enough proof that Prophet is up to no good – your council can’t ignore the testimony from all of the witnesses.”

      “That’s true,” Grey mused thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “I agree with the lady, Tegan. Go forth and try to locate the humans. If you can find and retrieve them, we’ll be killing two birds with one stone by saving their lives and exposing Prophet’s corruption to the council. And if what I suspect is true, and Drake is the real leader behind this tragedy, we’ll expose him as well.”

      The thought of finally knocking Drake off his throne was the only motivation Tegan needed. Just the idea of him being driven to his knees in front of the council, exposed for the scum he was, lit a fire inside of him. “Alright,” he said, standing up. “We’ll do it. Let’s go.”

      “I won’t be able to contact you again,” Grey warned, his image already starting to fade. “The spell will be used up once I disconnect, so we won’t speak again until you return with the evidence you need. Please be careful, Tegan.”

      “I will.”

      “Good. And good luck to you both.” He smiled affectionately at Ciara, and then he was gone.

 

* * *

      They decided to head back up north, over the mountains, flying miles over tropical forest, desert and lush rolling hills along the way. Ciara remained clutched in Tegan’s talons, and even though it was still terrifying for her, soaring from over a thousand feet in the air with nothing but a beast’s claws protecting her from falling the ground, and being pulverized by hard, unforgiving earth, she eventually got past the fear and started to actually enjoy it. The way the wind rushed through her hair, cold and refreshing, the sight of the puffy clouds, so close that she could practically touch them, pushed aside most of the anxiety, and there was no room for anything but wonder in her heart.

      She wished that she could talk to Tegan, could exclaim over all the different sights she saw, all the new villages, lakes and mountains that she’d never seen before in her life – and especially not from this vantage point – but unfortunately talking was impossible as Tegan couldn’t hear what she said over the roar of the wind. So she settled for simply standing comfortably in his clutches, and admiring everything up from above.

      Eventually though, as they neared the mountain range, anxiety began to creep into her heart again.
What if they went over those mountains only to find that there was no one on the other side?
That they’d lost the trail, or worse, that Prophet and the Firewalkers had never taken them through there in the first place?
Then they would be back to square one, without any way to rescue her friends and family.

     
Don’t think like that
, she ordered herself as they soared over the outer edges of the mountain range –
Tegan said he was going to avoid the middle so that he wouldn’t be spotted by his clan. You have to stay positive. If you defeat yourself in your mind, you’re already admitting defeat to your enemies.

      That’s what her father had always said to her, anyway. And even though it was a quote from an old book he’d read, rather than an adage he’d won from experience – her father was no warrior – it was still very apt in her opinion, not just to warfare but anything in life. She had to have a positive outlook if she expected to find success. And she had to find it, she had to find her father and the rest of the villagers, or she would never be able to live with herself.

     
Please let us not be too late
, she said to herself.
Please let them not have been sold off to traders already.

      They cleared the mountain range, and Tegan swooped down a little lower so that they could get a better idea of the terrain. A lot of it was rocky, hills covered with shale and obsidian that were much less welcoming than the green hills on the other side of the mountain range from whence they came, and that gave heart to Ciara because it meant that those wagons couldn’t travel very fast, and would need time.

      Sure enough, they spotted a caravan on the road, not twenty miles from the mountain range. And from what she could see they had stopped, possibly to fix an axle or take care of something else that was holding them up. Idling next to the caravan on either side of the road were two enormous dragons – one green, one yellow – very likely meant to act as guards, and be on watch for any attackers.

      “Tegan!” she shouted over the wind, trying to get him to hear her, but there was no need – he was already banking for one of the hills so they could land. He deposited her gently at the base of a hillock, then landed next to her and stretched out his enormous wings before shifting back into human form.

      “I’m guessing those are the slave traders,” Tegan said. “And that the dragons who with them are shifters from the Firewalker Clan.”

      “Yes, that’s what I’m thinking too,” Ciara agreed. She looked off into the distance, squinting her eyes so she could see the caravan – they were much harder to spot from the ground, a simple blip on the horizon. Adrenaline pumped through her now, hot and fast, and she was eager to get moving. “So what do we do now? Swoop in and rescue them? Breathe fire and rain brimstone down on them so that we can kill the kidnappers and rescue everyone else?”

      Tegan sighed. “We can’t just dive bomb them and hurl fireballs,” he told her. “Nearly all of the ones who are there aside from the slaves are going to be shifters. We’re outmatched.”

      Ciara felt her heart start to slide into the bottom of her shoes, and she gritted her teeth, fighting to stay positive. “But what are we going to do if we can’t rescue them? We need to bring back at least some of them in order to provide your clan with proof. And I need to get my father back.”

      “Yes, but that isn’t going to happen when we’re just one human girl, and one shifter. We stand no chance against them right now. They may as well be an army.” Tegan pursed his lips. “We’re going to need reinforcements.”

      “And just where are we going to get those?” Ciara demanded, propping her hands up on her hips. “It’s not like we can go to your clan for help.”

      “No, definitely not,” he agreed. “But there is another option, though it’s slim.”

      “Oh really?” Hope began to rise in her chest again. “And who’s that?”

      Tegan’s face tightened, and he looked away before answering. “The Blackfire Clan. My father’s clan.”

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