Fire in His Blood (Fireblood Dragon #1)

A low, draconic groan ripples through my mind. Cruel, sweet mate.

Cruel, am I? I avoid my throbbing side and slide a hand down my belly, pushing into the waistband of my panties. He finds my undergarments ridiculous, viewing them as useless bits of clothing, but I like them. Any kind of clothing is a luxury not to be wasted, so I wear them. I let my fingers brush against the curls of my pussy and then slip a finger between my folds. Not wet enough yet. I think of Kael kneeling between my legs, my fingers teasing his hair as he pushes his face into my pussy and begins to ravenously lick me.

That does the trick. Thinking of that makes me wet in moments. I moan and flick a finger over my clit, my other hand on my breast, squeezing it. How much longer are you going to be?

Too long.

I chuckle at the tortured sound of his thoughts. Please don’t drop my sister in your haste.

You are the cruelest of mates, he teases.

Am I? I tease back. And here I thought I was just feeling so much better. I continue to stroke myself, biting my lip and wishing desperately that Kael was here to do it for me.

When the shadow of a dragon passes overhead, my entire body quivers with excitement. Finally. I keep touching myself, even as Kael lands in his usual spot and transforms to his human form, thumping to the ground. I keep touching, because I want him to see me stroking my pussy at the thought of him.

He stands slowly, stretching to his full height, and I gasp to see he’s already magnificently erect, his eyes dark with lust. “Claudia,” he murmurs, stalking toward me, and for the barest of moments, I feel like prey.

Sexy, sexy prey. It only makes me wetter. I slide my fingers over my clit even faster, breathing hard as he moves to the side of the bed and jerks the blankets off of me. He gazes down at my sprawled legs. I’m wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties, and my T-shirt’s hiked up so I can play with my breasts, my hand in my panties. It’s not my most dignified moment. Don’t care.

His eyes blaze with need. Your wound?

Who cares? I tell him, still rubbing my clit fiercely.

His jaw clenches. I care. He moves onto the bed carefully, his large form dwarfing my own.

In the next moment, my mind fills with images of him grabbing my knees and pushing them apart, then dragging his mouth over my core. I moan at those vivid images, but he doesn’t do any of that. In fact, he’s not even touching me yet. It’s just mental foreplay, and it’s a unique kind of torture all its own. Kael leans in and examines my bandaged wound, ignoring my feverish masturbation and his own erection. Does this pain you? His gaze flicks to mine.

Not as much as this does, I tell him, dragging a slick finger through my folds. My movements make a wet sound, and I could swear he visibly tenses at the sound. Good. So he’s not immune to my display.

I must be gentle with you today, he tells me, leaning in and nuzzling at my neck. Though every scale on my hide demands that I throw you down and shove into you so I can fill you with my release.

His rough words are at odds with the gentleness of his touch, and I whimper. “You don’t have to be that gentle.”

Kael’s hot mouth moves down my throat, his claws dragging at the fabric of my bunched-up shirt. Remove this.

“Removing it,” I tell him quickly. The last thing I want is to lose another shirt. My arms tremble as I sit up, my body still weak, and I’m surprised when he tenderly supports my back and carefully helps me remove my shirt. That’s a first. Normally he just gets impatient and rips everything away. “Thank you.”

You are my mate. I will take care of you. His dark eyes gleam, and then he leans in and presses his mouth to mine in a kiss. And I like to see you in your skin. Kael’s tongue traces along my jaw, then grazes my neck.

“Better than out of it, I suppose,” I joke, stomach fluttering at the feel of his mouth.

He pulls away and stares down at me, frowning. I would never wish for that.

“It was a joke. You know, humor.”

Kael blinks at me slowly, and then his mouth curves into a wicked smile that makes my pulse flutter. Do you tease your mate, my Claudia? Shall I tease back?

Something in the heat of his eyes tells me he’s not talking about verbal teasing. I squirm a little under his intense gaze. I can’t imagine you teasing anyone.

Can’t you? He dips his chin, and his lips graze my nipple. It immediately puckers in response to his touch. Is this not teasing?

I moan, panting. I don’t know if it’s teasing if it feels so good.

Mmmm. He continues to play with my nipple, taking it between his teeth and gently nipping, then rolling the tip against his tongue. You are my mate. It is my job to ensure you feel good. Better than good. He lightly sucks on the tip of my breast, until I’m crying out with need. Your pleasure is my pleasure. Your pain my pain.

I arch under him, but that movement makes my side flare up again, and I wince, collapsing and putting a hand to my side. Somehow, I don’t believe we’re sharing this pain.

His mouth lifts from my skin, and his gaze catches mine. The look on his face is so intense, his eyes swirling a furious black, that I look away. He reaches up and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him again.

You think I do not notice your pain? You think it does not destroy me inside when the humans attack you with their fire sticks? You think I did not feel my world end when you collapsed at my feet? Or that it began again when you opened your eyes?

“Oh, Kael.” I’m being a dick, aren’t I? “I’m sorry. I—” I hesitate, then brush my fingers over the high, pronounced dappled cheekbones that I’d first thought so strange. Now I adore them. “I love you.”

I know this.

I frown. Not exactly how I’d planned this moment going. “Well, that was arrogant.”

You have already told me this, Claudia. When you were attacked with the fire stick, you told me you loved me.

Did I? I don’t remember. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to sound like such a high and mighty jerk about it.” I’d pictured this moment so different. Me, dramatically declaring my love and him, getting all soft and happy with my confession, not giving me a smug, impatient look. “You’re so…arrogant!”

How can it be arrogant if it is truth? The smile he gives me is arch, even as he drags his tongue over my nipple, making me crazy with need. You tell me things I already know.