What a Dragon Should Know (Dragon Kin #3)(122)

For more than an hour he’d sat in that freezing cold lake as human. Even with chattering teeth and shaking body, he was still hard. And hard only for her.

It never even occurred to him to find another. To track down a bar wench or two and do what he normally did when in this part of Dark Plains for a night. It never occurred to him that anyone but Dagmar would be in his bed ever again.

Eventually he had headed back inside with the intent of trying to get some sleep in one of the alcoves. He was a dragon; sleeping on jewels and treasure was par for the course. But as soon as he’d entered the cavern, he’d immediately known Dagmar was gone. Locking on her scent, he was relieved to discover she’d only gone deeper into the cave rather than out of it. He followed her scent until it disappeared into a crevice no one among his kin would ever be able to creep through. But he had an idea of where it led and he took another path he knew.

When he saw her standing there, watching his brother and Annwyl, he’d been shocked at the warmth he’d felt for her. The tenderness. As well as the blinding lust. He’d been torn between the desire to simply hold her close or bend her stomach down over that ledge.

She drew her knees up, allowing him to go deeper inside her, and he braced his arms on either side of her and slowly began to thrust. She cried out, the sound muffled because of his mouth covering hers. He drank the sound down and used his body to make her cry out more. She clung to him, shaking beneath him as another climax raced through her. He felt it as her muscles clenched around his cock, squeezing his own climax from him. Now he cried out; now his body shook as he drained into her.

He pulled out of their kiss and looked down at her. Those grey eyes, always so cold and aloof or so plotting and curious, now only seemed soft and caring. She smiled, the grip on his arms loosening.

“I’m staying the night,” he said. It wasn’t a request.

“I know you are.” It seemed leaving wasn’t an option.

And that was quite all right. Because tonight he’d take her body, as often as they both needed it. But tomorrow … Tomorrow he’d make her his own.

Dagmar rose up a bit, her lips pressing against his neck, under his jaw. Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him inside her. As was the way of his kind when human, his c**k began to harden again, and, as was the way of Dagmar Reinholdt, her body responded almost immediately, quite ready for what he could give her.

It had been a long time since Rhiannon had been summoned through the lines of Magick crisscrossing throughout the universe. Mostly because there were few who could break through the defenses she’d erected over the centuries. Those defenses had been built because she’d tired of the constant requests from lesser witches and mages for assistance or, even more dangerous, those who’d hoped to quietly steal her power for their own uses.

Yet the handsome Lightning standing before her had surprised her. First he’d sent that useless note through Dagmar, the human having handed it to Rhiannon as they’d plotted the handling of Elder Eanruig. But then he’d contacted her directly by bypassing all the defenses she’d built. Only the most powerful and experienced could manage that.

He was much younger than she’d assumed and nothing like the Lightnings she’d always known. Not only was he beautiful—a rarity among the Northland males—but he was quite … dare she say … elegant? An outsider from birth, she’d guess.

A confused, elegant outsider at the moment. Rhiannon did love confused males, although it wasn’t as hard to do as they’d like to believe.

“You knew my father had your daughter?”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve always known.” Although she’d thought Keita would have gotten herself out of there long before now.

“Yet you left her there.”

“It wasn’t so much she crossed through the Outerplains into the Northlands that bothered me. It was that she did it to see that treacherous bitch sister of mine. She only does these things to irritate me. And she could have called on her siblings to help her, but apparently she was too embarrassed for that—as well she should have been.”

“I see.”

“Now, now. Don’t look so crestfallen, my little lightning strike.” She patted his arm. “I am still quite interested in an alliance between us. Dagmar gave me your letter. Although I doubt you sent her here simply to get that message to me. So why did you?”

“Her uncle Jökull is on the move. Heading toward her father’s lands as we speak. He’s doubled his army and I knew no matter what I told her, she’d head right back there. Risking everything to—”

“You were protecting her,” she cut in, surprised.

The Lightning glanced away. She couldn’t tell if that was embarrassment or regret on his handsome face. “I know she doesn’t believe it, but she means much to me.”

Definitely regret.

Unfortunately it was too late for any of that. Rhiannon had seen her son’s face when Dagmar walked out of that tunnel alive and well. It wasn’t just relief he’d felt for the human. It was love. If it had been any of the whores she’d seen Gwenvael with over the years—dragon or human—Rhiannon would not be pleased. But Dagmar was not some mindless little slag begging for love.

That barbarian could destroy the world with her will alone—Rhiannon admired that.