By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(55)

“Nuh uh,” I gently chided, testing his resolve. Giving me his submission couldn’t be easy for him. The way he’d fucked my mouth—was it only a couple days ago?—I could tell he preferred a more dominant role. That awareness caused goose bumps to ripple over my skin, both with desire and with unease. I’d never wanted to submit to anyone before, and neither had my dragon. If you asked me before meeting Quinn, I would have said it was absurd. But feeling his desire, knowing what he’d been through and how little control he held over his own body did something to me. Made me want to give him something I’d never given another.

But not today.

Today I needed to show him how it felt to be owned by a dragon. Let him understand that even though he bound me to him as his familiar, I wouldn’t be his docile little pet.

When he opened his eyes and focused on my face, I grinned, showing my canines. He sucked in a harsh breath, his lips parting. I continued to tease him with my loose fist, not giving him what he needed, watching the battle that waged in his eyes. He wanted to push me over and show me who was boss. Well, I had news for him. I would breed him so good, so hard, there’d be no doubt it wasn’t him.

“Spread your legs farther. I want to watch you come undone.”

He groaned, his fingers still in a death grip on the sheets. He did as I asked, pulling his knees toward his chest, opening himself for my greedy eyes. So fucking hot. I continued to tease him with one hand while dipping the other back in the oil pot and getting my fingers nice and slick. He watched the oil run down my palm, his chest rising and falling erratically.

With one lube slicked finger, I wrote mine across his chest in the language of my mother’s clan.

I tweaked a nipple, not gently either, before trailing lazily down his abs, then the crease of his thigh. Moving to his entrance, I tapped him once with my index finger, watched in amusement as his hips arched off the bed.

“Nervous?” I chortled. Yeah, I was a bastard.

“Fuck you,” he said between clenched teeth.

“That’s hardly submissive of you, Quinn. My dragon might get the idea you’re not truly submitting.” A growl came unbidden to my throat.

“I’ve got my legs in the air, my ass on display, and my throat bared in submission to your beast. I think we can all agree I’m doing a bang-up job,” Quinn bit out.

I chuckled again. Such a sweet and feisty human rolled all into one.

This time when I returned to his entrance, I didn’t tap. I lightly swirled a finger around until I’d slicked him up. His appreciative moan hit me like an arrow to my chest, and a now-familiar warmth spread to my heart. The heady rush of emotion seemed to pool there whenever Quinn felt pleasure. I craved being the one to make him moan. Or smile. Or laugh.

But I didn’t feel emotion during sex. Not ever. At least not until Quinn. Emotion meant . . . commitment. A loss of freedom. I needed to pull back.

This was a trap.

What was I doing?

“Twig?” Quinn’s husky voice broke over my name. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, reaching for my control. Only I didn’t find it. It had been stripped away by a blond-haired human with a sassy mouth. My breathing became shallow, my throat too tight. I couldn’t do this, no matter what my dragon wanted. I wheezed and began to roll off Quinn, until a gentle hand rested against my rough cheek. Just his touch, slowed the racing of my heart, chased away the shadows of fears I’d never faced down before.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. It’s okay. . . . If it’s too much, I understand.”

Looking into his half-lidded gaze, I was lost. Lust and something I could now identify as affection lingered there. My breathing leveled out and the terror released its piercing hooks. I kissed him softly then, memorizing the texture and heat of his mouth. He melted into me, opening for my hunger, dishing back his own.

Our thoughts might be blocked from each other, but I could sense his want, his need through our link. How could I deny him? My hand returned to his hole and I slowly pushed inside, my finger sliding in and out in a gentle rhythm. His passage clamped down, hot and tight, another moan spilling into my mouth. Without breaking our kiss, I added more oil and glided back in past my second knuckle. He tensed.

I forced myself to release his mouth.

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded vigorously.

On my next withdrawal, I added a second finger and more oil, gently stretching him.

“You don’t have to treat me like I’ll break. It’s not like I’m a virgin.” Though his words were without inflection, a stab of despair moved through our link.

Pausing, I asked, “Were you a virgin when Brandsome . . . ”

A harsh nod was his only response.

“Ah damn, Quinn.” I began to pull my fingers out, but his hand clamped around my forearm, stopping me.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I want this.” He arched his hips, while making sure we were eye-to-eye.

There was so much I needed to say. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were already swollen from our kissing, an audible sigh escaping when our mouths fused again. He released my arm and I slid my fingers deep while simultaneously coaxing his lips open with my tongue.

His mouth was just as hot as the rest of his body and I took my time to explore it. He relaxed into my touch, meeting each stroke of my tongue with one of his own. I’d had lots of sex, but this was something more. Maybe it was because of the bond we now shared, the excitement that sang between us. His emotions stroked mine, just as my tongue stroked his. It was . . . well, I didn’t really know. Just felt like I was coming home.