A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(49)

He shook his head frantically. “Not yet,” he said hoarsely. “Can’t reach. Can’t get where I—”

“You’re getting close, though. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He jacked himself another time or two. “Yeah, Sam. I’m close.”

“Can’t have that, can we? Put your hands above your head.”

He groaned in frustration but did as I asked, pulling his fingers out of his ass with an obscenely wet sound. He rested his hands against the headboard, biceps flexing, fingers shiny in the candlelight. His dick twitched against his stomach.

“That’s real good,” I said lightly. “Keep them there.”

He turned toward the sound of my voice, eyes wide. I waited until his focus was on me before I stalked toward him slowly, first pulling my jerkin off. I might have been a born sex god, but even sex gods could be insecure. It had taken a while for me to feel comfortable under his scrutiny. He was chiseled out of stone by the gods. I was a stick that had fallen out of a tree. But Ryan didn’t seem to mind, seemed to like it in fact. I didn’t know what that said about him, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I let the jerkin fall to the floor, and he made an abortive movement with his hands. He caught himself, though, and let out a long, slow breath, trying to maintain some semblance of control. It was a sight to behold, the Knight Commander of Castle Lockes all spread out and wanting in our bed. No one else got to see him like this. This was only for me.

I popped the button to my trousers, wondering how much longer I could string him along. I was already half hard and itching to close the distance between us. But sex gods couldn’t show they were affected. Sex gods played it cool and collected and sexy.

“You’re thinking about being a sex god again, aren’t you?” he asked, voice rough.

I snapped my head back toward him. His eyes were a little clearer than they’d been just a moment before, and he had that fond and exasperated look on his face that I knew so well. His cock was still hard, and his arms were still above his head. His legs were drawn up, feet down on the mattress. He was exposed but comfortable. He trusted me.

So of course I lied. “No, I wasn’t thinking about that at all. I was thinking about what I was going to do to you.”

“Really,” he said. “That’s what you’re going with.”

“Do you want to be ravaged or not?”

“When you put it like that, I might need a moment to think about it.”

“You’re impossible,” I said with a scowl.

“Sam,” Ryan said. “I am naked in our bed waiting for you to screw me. I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be talking right now.”

“What about dirty talking?”

“I don’t want to know what you want me to do to your ear hole.”

I shoved my trousers and underpants to the ground. “Sex god,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Come on, sex god. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Bossy fucking bottom,” I grumbled as I kicked my feet out of my trousers.

“Sam,” he said, and he sounded a little desperate again. “Come over here and screw me.”

When Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart makes such a demand, one does not hesitate. And no, I didn’t trip and almost fall into the bed, no matter what anyone said. And if Ryan did say anything like that, he was a fucking liar and I would spank the shit out of him later.

He was laughing by the time I pulled myself on top of him, his arms still above his head. He spread his legs a little more, just enough to make room for me to lie on top of him. His eyes fluttered shut as I pressed my weight against him, cock to cock, chest to chest. I reached up and grabbed both of his wrists with one hand, holding him in place, and his breaths came in short little bursts. We were under no illusions that I could hold him in place; if he wanted to get up from under me, he would. But he didn’t, and that was key. He wanted to be held down, wanted to feel like someone else was in control. He’d told me this in fumbling fits and starts, blushing terribly as he looked down at his hands. “We don’t have to do it,” he’d mumbled. “I’m just happy I get to have you at all.”

And what the hell was I supposed to do in the face of that?

Everything I could, obviously.

And it just so happened our kinks lined up for the most part, no matter how vanilla they were. We weren’t Gary and Kevin (oh my gods how we weren’t Gary and Kevin), but we did okay.

And there was the fact that I would have given Ryan just about anything he could ask for. I could admit to still being a little starry-eyed when the thought crossed my mind that, out of everyone in the world, he wanted me the most, enough to break an oath he made in the name of his mother.

I kissed him, and he made this little noise in the back of his throat, soft and wounded, pressing his hands up against mine, testing how far I’d let him go. I tightened my grip as I controlled the kiss, grinding my hips down against his, letting the slick friction from the oil on his dick rub against my own. He gasped into my mouth, and I swallowed it down, my tongue against his.

I pulled away, watching as he lifted his head, trying to chase the kiss. He frowned when he couldn’t get very far, pupils dilated until there was only the faintest ring of green. “Come on, Sam, please,” he said. “Come on.”