Dragon Actually (Dragon Kin #1)(59)

Yet he couldn’t let that change his plan. He wouldn’t put Annwyl at risk until she secured her reign. Of course that didn’t mean Annwyl would make it easy on him.

“Annwyl—”

“I grow tired of this . . . and of you.” She snatched her arm away from him, taking several long strides to the wood table in the middle of her tent. Already she moved like a queen. The humans would be lucky to have her as their sovereign.

“Claim me now, dragon.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the fur barely covering her at all. “Or go. And never come back.”

He knew what he should do. He should walk out of her life forever. He should let some nice human boy take her. Some nice human boy he would have to kill for touching the woman he loved.

With a sigh, Fearghus went and stood in front of her. “You are a mad bitch, Annwyl the Bloody.”

“What other woman would put up with you, Fearghus the Destroyer?”

Fearghus leaned down and kissed the top of Annwyl’s head to prevent himself from laughing. “You are a strange woman, Queen Annwyl.” He brushed his cheek against hers.

“So I’ve been told.” His hands slid under the fur covering, gliding along her waist, her back, her rear. He heard her breath catch as she leaned into him. “Don’t make me wait, dragon. Claim me now or let me go forever.”

“Are you sure, Annwyl? Once this is done, there will be no going back.”

“I’ve made my decision, dragon.” She let the fur covering drop to the floor. “But make sure it’s what you want. Do me no favors.”

He gripped her around the waist and easily sat Annwyl on the wood table. He kissed her forehead, then her neck as he grasped both her forearms in his hands. He leaned in and kissed her luscious mouth as his grip on her arms became tighter.

Annwyl stared at Fearghus and wondered what he was doing. He stood quietly, holding onto her forearms as if he were afraid she’d run away. But that wouldn’t happen. She wanted this, and him, more than anything. But maybe he’d decided he just didn’t want her. That he’d rather spend his long life with a dragon as a mate.

Gwenvael led her on this course, damn him. The drunker the dragon got, the more she realized how much he actually cared for his gruff older brother. Even as he tried to put his hand on her rear. Then Morfyd confirmed it. The two of them planted themselves on either side of Annwyl and told her that if she wanted their brother, she’d best get him to Claim her this night. Otherwise he’d leave, thinking he did it for the right reasons.

But maybe they were wrong. Maybe he didn’t want her at all. Not for any length of time anyway.

Annwyl winced. His grip on her arms hadn’t tightened, but pain still slashed across her flesh. Her fists rested against his chest and she felt his deep, even breathing against her skin as her agony became more intense. The pain reminded her of when she burned her hand over an open flame or got too close to a bubbling pot. It went through her skin right down to the flesh and bone beneath.

She tried to stifle a yelp of pain, but she just couldn’t. It hurt that much. She dropped her head against his chest, praying it wouldn’t last much longer, when a warm jolt passed through her body. Her ni**les hardened. Her sex became wet. Her breath came out in short gasps. She moaned as her entire body tightened. Fearghus’s erection rose against her in response to her body’s call.

Annwyl gasped as another pulse of heat passed through her. Her sex clenched. Her legs weakened. She was coming. She didn’t know how or why, but she was coming. And when a third wave of heat flashed through her body, she cried out. She came hard, her teeth biting into the flesh of his chest.

Fearghus kissed her then. His mouth brutally claiming hers, his tongue torturing hers with bold strokes.

The pain in her arms receded and her spasms stopped. Fearghus released her and she glanced down at her forearms, saw burned flesh on both. The lingering after-pain made her wonder if they would ever heal.

“That is so every dragon knows you belong to me.” He kissed her again as he laid her back against the table. “And this”—he kissed her br**sts, her chest, her stomach—“this is for me.” He lowered his head between her legs, his tongue swiping the inside flesh of her thigh. She clenched her teeth as a burning pain spread over the area. He did the same to the other thigh and she gripped the table, her fingers digging into the wood. He breathed over the two areas and the pain swept through once again. Annwyl bit her lip to stop herself from screaming but a low moan escaped as her body shook. Then his tongue speared through the folds of her sex, replacing the pain with sweet, deep pleasure. Her back arched off the table, but he gripped her legs and held her as his tongue dipped inside and around the swollen, hungry flesh.

She forgot the pain as Fearghus’s talented tongue stroked her over and over again, bringing her closer and closer to release. Her hands clenched into fists, her moans filled the tent. Soon she began to shake as her climax ripped through her, a loud cry torn from her heated body.

Fearghus gently gathered her to him, pulling her off the table, and pressing her still shuddering body against his.

Fearghus whispered softly against her ear, “Are you all right?”

Her arms hurt. The insides of her thighs were sore. And burns permanently marred her body. Yes, Annwyl felt just fine.

She wet her lips and took a deep breath. “Is that all, dragon?”