Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(65)

“Both.”

“Do you want to keep talking?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Good.” She leaned in. “I finally found way to shut you up.”

Elina kissed the dragon, the heat of his mouth surprising her. Even though it probably shouldn’t. He was a dragon, after all. Fire breather and all that.

Yet with a human or not, Elina had never been so aroused before. So ready to take what she wanted without thought to consequences or what others in her tribe would think.

Ever since she’d passed fifteen summers, Elina had been graced with lovers. Men born into the tribes who she thought were attractive enough to bother with. None of them would ever be her husband. Glebovicha had made sure of that, but those not bound to another were usually hers for a night or three. But they had all been human . . . belonging to one of the many Steppes Tribes.

Celyn was none of those things and, more importantly, he was a corrupt, immoral Southlander. Something that, at the moment, didn’t bother Elina in the least.

Strong hands slid around her waist and eased up her spine. Celyn leaned forward, while gently pushing Elina back.

She tried to use her hands to stop him, but he growled against her mouth, “Keep those fingers deep in your *.”

Elina didn’t take orders from men—or, in this case, males—in bed. But when she tried to pull her fingers away, his hand caught hers and held it in place . . . until he pushed them deeper.

“Fuck yourself with your fingers,” he ordered her. And, when she hesitated, “Do it.”

She went ahead and did as he told her to, and was quickly rewarded when he moved out of their kiss and licked his way down her throat, then chest, until he reached her breasts. He curled his tongue around her nipple and enclosed most of her breast inside his mouth. The heat increased against her sensitive skin while his tongue twisted and tugged. The triple sensations of what he was doing to her breast, what she was doing with her own fingers, and him holding her hand in place, leaving her very little choice, had Elina screaming out into the night as her body shook from the strength of overwhelming sensations.

The orgasm seemed to last forever, rolling through her until she was too weak to do much more than whimper.

That’s when the dragon roughly flipped her onto her stomach. She placed her hands against the ground, trying to push her body up, but a firm hand against her back shoved her down and pinned her there.

Celyn pressed his free hand against her pelvis and lifted her hips up. His fingers slid around, searching for and finding her *. He slid three fingers in and she heard him sigh, “Gods, so tight.” Then his fingers were gone and she felt the head of his cock press against her.

That’s when she began to put up a fight. Or at least tried to. The head alone was huge, and she wasn’t sure she wanted all of his cock shoved inside her. Then again, she wasn’t sure she didn’t. She actually enjoyed that he gave her no quarter. That he was as strong in bed as she was.

She tested him, but she knew enough about him never to say the word “no.” That was, she sensed, the one thing that would stop all of this. She didn’t want it to stop. She just wanted it to be a bit of a challenge.

Fuck that. Who was she kidding? Elina wanted a fight.

When it came to sex, Elina liked to know she was bedding an equal, not some weak-willed male who would take whatever she gave.

And she was more than pleased when she realized that Celyn the Charming was not that male.

When he tried to f*ck her, suddenly the limp doll Elina had become turned back into the vicious little spitfire who had gotten naked in front of him and straddled him like a horse she wanted to break.

She pushed herself up, then swung back with one fist, trying to push him off while attempting to get to her feet.

Celyn caught that fist and held it. But he waited. To hear her say the one word that would stop everything. He waited to hear “no” and he only needed to hear it once. He would never force Elina or any female to do anything she didn’t want . . . unless Elina wanted him to.

But that “no” never came. She just tried to pull her arm away while still pushing her body up so that she had some leverage.

Celyn, however, wasn’t about to give her that leverage. He caught hold of her one free hand, then reached around and gripped the other. With a good pull, he had control and Elina, still on her knees, had control of nothing. The only thing that kept her face from hitting the ground was him.

She continued to struggle, but he pulled her arms back and then gripped both her slim wrists in one hand. With Elina securely held, Celyn again pressed his cock against her *, which, he was happy to note, was wetter and hotter than it had been before. And it had been so very wet and hot before.

He pressed his cock against her and, with a rather undignified grunt, he shoved home.

Elina let out a cry; then she began to curse him. At least, he was guessing she was cursing him since she now spoke the language of the tribes and he didn’t understand a bloody word she said.

Yet, there was still absolutely no sign of the one word he needed to hear if he was going to stop this. And he thanked the gods every second as he began to take her with long, powerful, and incredibly hard strokes.

Although Elina still struggled to get her arms free, her hips were slamming back against his as he took her with, even he had to admit, absolutely no charm whatsoever.

It was true. He’d always known it. When it came to sex, no matter how much Celyn might fight it, he was and always would be a Cadwaladr. Which meant one thing . . . he liked a bit of fight from his bed partners. He wanted them to go down swinging. He wanted to wake up in the mornings scratched, scarred, and sore.