What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(121)

As she stepped out on the other end, she realized she was on a large, naturally made ledge that curled up at the end. It was sturdy and allowed her to walk across and place her hands on the raised part so she could lean over and look down onto an amazing indoor lake. The lake itself was breathtaking, the water crystal clear and beautiful, a small underground stream constantly refilling and churning it so it didn’t become stagnant.

For a very brief moment, she wondered why Gwenvael had not brought her here to bathe, but then she caught sight of Annwyl and Fearghus by the lake’s edge. The babes were in a large crib, big enough for the both of them. And they slept while their parents clung to each other. Dagmar could hear low moans from him and soft sighs from her. Could see the queen’s body arch, her head thrown back as her mate entered her. He kissed her neck, his hands stroking her body with a reverence Dagmar had only seen from monks when touching their most holy of artifacts. From where she stood, unseen, she could hear words of undying love and promises of a grand future.

She lowered her head. This wasn’t the usual sort of coupling she’d secretly watched over the years. Sordid liaisons to be grabbed and hurriedly done with before husbands or wives came to investigate. Dirty secrets to be kept and fantasized over while at first meal the following morning. To be forgotten months, if not days, later.

No. This was love. In its purest form.

And Dagmar felt nothing but regret knowing she’d never have this herself. She couldn’t even blame the men who found her not to their tastes because she understood that to have this kind of love was simply not in her nature. To open herself this way to anyone was not possible for her. Who could she ever trust like this?

Feeling a sadness from deep within, Dagmar stepped back, determined to tackle the tight fit of the crevice again so she could leave Annwyl and Fearghus to their privacy. But her back moved into something hard but not nearly as hard as a cave wall.

A hand slipped around her mouth, silencing her surprised gasp, and soft lips pressed against her ear.

“I leave you alone for a few minutes”—that low voice whispered—“and I always find you up to something very naughty, my Lady Dagmar.”

She shook her head in denial, absurdly delighted when she felt his other arm slip around her waist and hold her tight against his body.

“You can deny it, but we both know. Know how much you enjoy watching others.”

Perhaps. But she didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as she enjoyed the feeling of Gwenvael’s hand sliding down her leg and grasping hold of the shirt she’d worn to bed. He pulled it up until it rested above her hips.

“Aaaah,” he sighed as two of his fingers slipped deep inside her. “I knew it, my lady. Knew you’d be soaking wet from watching.”

She’d known it too, but it had little to do with what Annwyl and Fearghus were up to.

“Can’t leave you like this, now can we? Wet and needy, with no relief.” He thrust hard with his fingers, and Dagmar immediately gripped the fingers covering her mouth with both her hands. She didn’t try to pry them off, but pinned them there, hoping they would help her control her desire to cry out.

“Watch them,” he said against her ear, while his tongue explored. “Watch how my brother takes his mate. With such skill, he brings her to climax. And I will do the same for you.”

As her hips began to match Gwenvael’s fingers, thrust for thrust, she had no doubt he’d do as he promised, but again, it had nothing to do with what went on near the lake’s edge. She couldn’t see the other couple anyway, her eyes closing as she focused on the feel of Gwenvael’s fingers inside her, the way his breath caressed the sensitive place behind her ear, and the way his naked body felt pressed against her back.

“Gods, Dagmar. You’re so tight.” He bit her shoulder, nipped her neck before returning to her ear, his whispers feverish. “I tried to give you time alone, but I can’t. Not now. This night you’ll spend with me.” His thumb pressed against her clit, moving in slow circles. “You’ll spend it with my c**k deep inside you, making you come again and again.”

Her body jerked in his arms, the climax wrenching through her. He turned them so she was now facing the wall, trying to use his big body to block out the cries. It was unnecessary, though, as the queen’s own choked cries of pleasure overrode Dagmar’s.

Her body shook in his arms, her knees weakening from the power of her climax. Yet Dagmar had no fear of falling, because Gwenvael held her. He held her until her last shudder passed and she slumped, boneless, against his body.

Gwenvael placed her on the bed, tossing the shirt he’d removed from her across the room. Her eyes fluttered open and, smiling, he carefully removed her spectacles, placing them on the side table. He leaned over and waved his hands in her face. “Can you still see me?” he teased loudly.

She lightly slapped at his hands. “Stop doing that.”

“What would you like me to do instead?”

Soft hands reached for him, grabbing hold of his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her. “I want you inside me.”

Nothing had sounded more perfect before.

He pushed inside her, his way eased by her recent climax. She gasped as his c**k stretched her open, her neck arching as she gripped his biceps.

When her lips parted, Gwenvael kissed her, spearing his tongue inside her moist mouth as his c**k speared inside her warm pu**y. Her fingers dug into his skin, her thighs opening wide beneath him.