Last Dragon Standing (Dragon Kin #4)(106)

He’d dragged her to the lakeside dirt rather than easing her there slowly, seductively—she didn’t care. And his grip on her was like steel as he held her close, locking her in place while his warm mouth sucked one nipple, then the other, teeth scraping, hands digging into her hips—and she loved it.

She hadn’t dared to hope that someone as methodical as Ragnar the Cunning could ever be so passionate. Then again, maybe she should have known. The way he looked at her, watched her.

He released one arm so that he could reach between them and get at his leggings. She knew then there’d be no foreplay this first time, no soft caresses, no sucking his c**k to make him hard, no licking her to get her off, before they got to the finale of it all.

And, for once, it didn’t matter. As soon as he’d kissed her, she’d grown wet, nearly desperate. A desperation she hadn’t felt in a very long time for any male, no matter how handsome or powerful he might be. At the moment, Keita needed none of those extras, yanking herself from Ragnar’s grip so she could unleash human-sized talons and shred the leggings from him until his c**k reared up free. She caught hold of it and rose up on her knees, moving her body until she was over it. She spread her thighs, took a breath, and dropped her weight down.

Her pu**y engulfed all that male hardness in one shot, both Keita and Ragnar groaning, writhing. He filled her, expanded inside her even more.

Ragnar caught hold of her hips, pulling her in tight while he drove up.

Keita’s head fell back; she laughed even as she moaned.

Gods! That felt so good.

She couldn’t explain why, didn’t care. She just knew she loved it.

Every inch of his c**k driving into her—nothing had ever felt quite this good.

His hands moved up her sides and pulled her down, closer. Ragnar sat up a bit until he could reach her breast. His mouth surrounded it, and then, she felt it. Little lightning strikes against her breast. Little lightning strikes that had her entire body clenching, her eyes opening wide in surprise.

She panted, twisting hard against him, her hands pressing against his shoulders. Not to get away—at this moment, she was sure she’d never want to get away—but because she’d lost control. A control she prided herself on having when it came to males. He moved to her other breast, released more little shocks against her flesh, and Keita screamed out, the first orgasm ripping through her, followed closely by a second.

Shaking, covered in sweat, she held on to him as he continued to f**k her, using his mouth and tongue on her ni**les until he did it again. Until he sent those tiny lightning strikes into her body and Keita cried out once more, her entire body clenching. But this time his cry joined hers, his hands squeezing her so tight she wondered if he’d crush her ribs. He came inside her, his hips rocking into her as each new ejaculation shot into her hard and hot.

When, finally, his arms wrapped around her waist and her head crashed into his chest, she knew with absolute certainty that making a deal with this dragon was perhaps the dumbest thing she’d ever done.

Panting, head slowly beginning to clear, Ragnar realized he had Keita in his arms and a short amount of time to figure out how to keep her there.

The first step, though, was not to let her know that was his intent. If he even showed a hint of making what they had permanent, she’d run off like a startled rabbit.

So he wisely kept his mouth shut and leaned back against the lakeside dirt with Keita held against him. He waited until they could both breathe evenly again before he asked, “Is there any way to get out of the dancing portion of tonight’s dinner?”

She laughed, and he heard the relief in it. Knew she was expecting a litany of praise for what had just happened and promises of commitment for all time. He had no intention of being so obvious. Besides, he never understood the after-sex chatty ones who felt the need to analyze every thrust, gasp, and shudder.

“Not really. But you could try sacrificing your kin while you make your escape.”

“They’ll hate me for that.” He shrugged. “But it might be worth it.” She lifted herself up, resting an elbow on his chest, her chin in her palm. “You can’t dance?”

“I have been taught the skill, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

“You’ll have to at least dance with me.”

“If I must.”

Lips tightening, she punched his arm. “There are males who’d kill for a chance to dance with me, but I’m allowing you the privilege. You should feel honored.”

“Oh, I do.” He rolled over until she was beneath him, his c**k instantly stirring back to life. “We should bathe in the lake before we go back,” he murmured, trying to brush the rest of the dress away from her body. “Might as well do it here.”

“You ruined my dress,” she remarked.

“Hhhm.” Ragnar gripped what was left of the bodice and tore the gown down the middle, giving him complete access to her body.

“You should buy me another.”

“You ruined my leggings,” he replied, pulling his hands away from her long enough to pull his shirt up over his head and toss it off into the grass. “That makes us even.”

“Dammit.” She pressed her hands against his chest and stroked his flesh. Ragnar’s eyes closed, his head falling forward, his c**k more than ready to begin again. “My evil plan for a new dress foiled again.” Her fingers grazed the skin where she’d stabbed him with her tail, and Ragnar shuddered.