Hoarded by the Dragon (Monstrous Matches, #4)

My beast snarls audibly at that, and she jumps. I see the moment of hesitation in her eyes. The moment that she debates running. I’d let her. I’d let her escape because the balm of her presence against the never-ending torture of this heat is too tempting. But her eyes glance to the figurine again and determination takes the place of her fear.

Of course. She wants the exchange. This is a transaction, not an offering of old. My beast doesn’t want to let her leave with any of our hoard, but I placate him. Objects last longer than lives. The piece can be found again.

This is the price.

Somehow, a decision has been made—by me or my beast, I don’t quite know. We’ve decided to accept her proposal if only to quell the pain for a moment.

“You’ve never had sex with a dragon before,” I say, wanting the woman to at least be forewarned. “My kind are very rare, thief.”

She flinches at the title, and like the moment of real fear on her face from the threat of the Council, I don’t like it. I suppress the urge to feel anything but apathy for this woman. She’s a trespasser. A common thief foolish enough to risk her life for the figurine she covets.

“I may not have, but I’m willing, and I don’t see any other takers around,” she snaps.

I tilt my head and let the robe suffocating me fall to the ground in a last attempt to scare her away.

The way her eyes widen when they fall to my cocks is gratifying.

“Oh,” she squeaks.

“Still wanting to sell yourself to me for the night, thief?” I ask, mocking. I stroke my upper cock idly; the tip already weeps with the need to take everything that she’s offering.

I inhale and want to groan at the delicate scent of her arousal.

“Um”—she blinks before her senses return, her cheeks reddening—“of course, I’ve just never…” she trails off and I wait.

The demand that burns in my body calms in the face of her embarrassment. No doubt the promise of her presence already mollifying the need to overpower and breed.

“You have two,” she tries again, saying the statement as if I’m unaware of the fact. “A-And I’ve never had anything—” Her face gets even redder as her hand gestures get borderline graphic before she stills them. I finally understand her concerns.

She thinks she’ll have to take them at the same time. Though the idea of thrusting into both of her holes is arousing, that isn’t what this heat demands.

“I won’t do anything that you object to,” I say.

Her self-preservation is truly minuscule. Not only did she break in, she’s offering to satisfy my heat without even knowing if I’m the sort of male who will listen to her consent. I contemplate stopping this even as a wave of demand rolls through me like claws digging into entrails.

“Oh, okay.” The thief’s shoulders relax as if that were really the only thing to consider when making this arrangement. She starts to remove the gloves she wears. There’s a glint of stubbornness in her eyes.

Who is this woman?

That thought disappears like smoke when she pulls the black elastic shirt she wears over her head. The expanse of exposed skin continues as the sports bra she’d been wearing follows it. Her breasts are small, and I itch to suck on her hard nipples.

Her skin is pale in the low light, but there’s a flush to her skin. As she pulls the tight pants off with no hesitation, the scent of her need spreads in the air. She wants this as much as I do. I growl.

Her hands tremble as she takes a step toward me, but her shoulders are back and her chin is high, as if she’s royalty rather than a criminal.

“Last chance to leave, thief.”





3





KATARINA





MY TONGUE STICKS to the roof of my mouth instead of responding to the gauntlet of Kalos’s words.

You’re out of your mind. What are you doing?

I’m about to get laid, is what I’m doing. The growl from the masterpiece of flesh in front of me travels through my whole body, and my core tenses with a deep-seated need I’ve never had before. This may technically be how I get out of this alive and not imprisoned by the Council, but at this very moment… this is for me.

It’s been so long since I’ve had sex. Years of me trying to do everything I could to get my legit business afloat while taking on all the pro-bono I could handle to offset my wrongdoings.

I’ve been busy. Now, I have a man with two very large erections gazing at me like he wants to devour me. My sex life before this dry patch was okay, but not this wild-bounding spiral in my chest wanting to run and hide as much as I want to see exactly how it feels to ride a dragon.

The cocks are phallic in shape, with a spongy head like a man’s, but the similarities end there. Barely visible iridescent scales gleam over his torso and legs. His skin darkens to gray near his pelvis and reddens into a deep purple at his genitals. White fluid drips from the head of the cock Kalos strokes, and my mouth waters with the need to taste it.

Kalos pulls his hand away, his facial expression torn between pain and regret. His body stiffens, and the clarity of what he’s going to do clears away my nerves. I’ve spent too long without responding to his last warning. He thinks I don’t want to be at his carnal mercy.

He’s going to retract our agreement. He’s going to stop this.

I can’t let him.

I stumble forward. My bare skin meets his, and he hisses at the contact. His sharp claws dig into the flesh of my arms where he grips me.

His tight hold loosens my tongue. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kalos must see something in my face that convinces him, or he’s too close to the edge of control to reject me.

My hands slide up his body, and each moment I absorb the heat of him pushes my arousal higher. He squeezes my arms before cursing and loosening his grip. His cocks throb against my stomach, smearing wetness across the skin there even as my own wetness wells between my legs.

Fuck, these side effects are potent. With the dazzling way my body feels, I almost want to bottle this sensation and save it for a later day. A different time when I want to feel desired and alive. But then I’d have to deal with the twisting craving too.

I gaze up at him, my thighs starting to tremble with need.

“Please,” I beg, and his eyes glow a gold color, hot like a flame.

“You will tell me if anything I do hurts you.” It’s not a question, but a demand.

I nod quickly, willing to agree to anything to feed the need he’s inspired.

With speed I can hardly track, he grabs my hair, and his mouth is on mine. My gasp turns into a groan. He tastes like cinnamon and the scent of campfire.

My knees buckle when he presses my body hard against his. His erections dig into my stomach and make me weak. Instead of him holding me up, we drop. He slows our fall at the last moment, and I gasp into his mouth at the touch of the chill floor at my back. His sharp teeth rake my lip, and I whimper at the sting even as he laves his tongue over the spot.

When he pulls back, his eyes are still glowing gold. “Spread your legs.”

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