Firedrake Page 6

  Perhaps she’d spent too many years fighting and training. She feared she was losing her femininity as the years wore on, but one look from Mace’s admiring gaze and all her fears were put to rest. Add Drake’s rather obvious interest and Krysta was flying high on a wave of feminine confidence the likes of which she hadn’t felt since she was a teen, newly discovering her female power.

  Mace surprised her by leaning closer, his mouth hovering near hers. She sensed he was giving her the opportunity to deny him, but she had no intention of doing so. Reaching up, she wrapped one palm around the nape of his neck and drew him closer. Her gaze zeroed in on his firm lips, knowing what she wanted and knowing too that she’d soon have it.

  She wanted Mace’s kiss. She wanted to know his flavor and his passion. She wanted him like she’d wanted few men in her life, and now was the moment of discovery. Would he be as good a kisser as she hoped? Would he be as good a kisser as Drake?

  Krysta tried to erase that last thought and concentrate on Mace, but it was there, niggling in the back of her mind, even as Mace’s lips descended the final distance to hers. He was warm and firm, and his hot body crowded close as he pulled her into his arms. His lips pressed, then opened, and his tongue rubbed over the seam of her lips before she opened to let him in.

  The feeling was incredible. Her hands went to his strong shoulders and drew him closer. All tentativeness was gone as he lowered her to the ground, his chest rubbing seductively over hers, his tongue tangling with hers, his body making hers sing. Mace was all man and all powerful. Any idea she might have harbored that he was just the slightest bit inexperienced was wiped away forever by the way he took command of her body and her senses.

  He kissed like a dream. His hands were gentle but firm as he stroked over her, working at the ties of her simple dress to bare the skin beneath. He moved with deliberate slowness, giving her every chance to object, but Krysta had no intention of stopping him. What he was doing felt too damn good.

  She slid her hands under the hem of his shirt, dragging upward to caress the sinewy muscles of his rock solid abdomen. She felt powerful when his abs clenched under her exploring fingers and he pulled back, breaking their kiss.

  “Do you want more?” His gaze mesmerized as he looked down at her.

  Krysta licked her lips, liking the way his gaze followed the movement of her tongue. Smiling, she nodded with deliberate, seductive motions.

  “I’ll let you know if I want you to stop.”

  “I don’t think I can take much more, milady. You’re very potent.” Mace tugged her closer, setting his hard thighs between hers on the soft, mossy ground.

  “I can take all you’ve got, sir knight.” She stroked his cheek with one hand. Boldly, she rocked her hips against his, loving the way he fit—even with their clothing still between them—into the notch of her legs. He felt huge and very hard, and she wanted that hardness inside her.

  It had been too long since any man had made her feel this way. It had been years since Krysta’s last intimate encounter, in fact. After the broken heart she’d suffered as a young girl, she kept her liaisons short and as unemotional as possible, preferring to concentrate on her work rather than the Jinn rogues who were constantly in her path.

  Mace, however, was a different story. The man was solid in every way. Grounded, mature, rock-hard in all the right places, but still he had a sense of adventure and unexpected humor. He intrigued her and made her want to risk her heart—just a little—for the first time in years. She knew he was courting her with an eye to the future. Knights didn’t bother coaxing short-term bedmates into accepting their dragon partners. No, this whole afternoon was a sure sign Sir Mace had a longer-term relationship in mind, and Krysta didn’t mind that one bit.

  She just plain liked Mace, and Nellin too. She wanted a steady man in her life now that she’d finally found a permanent home in Draconia and a place to use the skills she’d honed as a warrior of the Jinn. She was planting roots and making a home. If her new life in Draconia included Mace, so much the better. She could do a lot worse than hook up with a knight like him.

  “Are you sure?” Mace searched her eyes.

  Krysta pushed his shirt off over his shoulders, drawing him down to meet her lips. “I’m certain, Mace. Make love to me.”

  The words were music to his ears. He hadn’t planned on seducing her this afternoon, but she felt so right in his arms, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to take things slow, but his heart recognized its mate and it didn’t want to wait.

  Neither, apparently, did she.

  Krysta tugged at his clothes and Mace pulled away long enough to rid himself of his boots. When he reached for her once more, she’d shucked her own soft, lace-up boots and he got his first glimpse of her shapely bare calves.

  He rubbed his hands over her lean, muscular legs, raising the skirt of her simple dress higher and higher. Her skin was so soft. Mace didn’t think he’d ever experienced anything headier than the womanly scent of her or the strong muscles beneath her delicate, feminine skin. She was a wonder.

  His lips trailed after his hands, kissing his way up from her ankles to her hip. He pushed the dress and undertunic up and away, taking it over her head and tossing it aside as he got his first look at her naked form.

  She was lovely. Just incredibly lovely.

  All the long hours of training showed in the sleek, lean muscles of her arms, legs and abdomen, but nothing could disguise the curves he found so appealing. Mace had never lain with a warrior woman before and after seeing her, he knew there was no going back.

  Krysta was it for him. Possibly for the rest of his life.

  Mace tucked that thought away as he moved over her. His palms fit perfectly over her generous curves. He kissed her deeply as he learned her form by touch, his hands finally coming to rest on her surprisingly large breasts. She was perfect. Round, soft and peaking for him. Her nipples poked into his palms as she moaned against his mouth.

  He dueled with her mobile tongue as his fingers teased hard nipples, drawing another light sound of pleasure from her lips. He was greedy. He wanted it all. Her sighs, her groans…her screams of passion. And he would have it, he vowed, or die trying.

  His lips trailed down her neck, pausing here and there to nip and suck as she writhed against him. When his teeth raked her nipple, she lifted off the ground, and Mace couldn’t help but smile. She was very responsive. He liked that in a woman.

  “You’re beautiful, Krysta.” He looked up into her eyes as his lips closed over one nipple and sucked with steady pressure. Her gaze was half-lidded, drugged with passion. He’d never seen anything sexier in his life.

  “Mace!” She whispered his name over and over as he tongued her, his hands moving lower to tease the wet folds that waited. Her legs spread without much urging. She was eager and very nearly ready, which was a good start. Mace didn’t think he could wait much longer himself.

  “I want to make this perfect for you.” Releasing her nipple, he moved down her body, to the apex of her strong thighs. Her eyes widened, but she made no move to stop him as he spread her wide, his blunt fingers sliding through the slick folds. She was excited, but he’d make her more so. He watched, rapt, as his finger skated around the opening to her body, pushing inward. It was a tight fit. Much tighter than he was used to. The thought gave him pause as a triumphant feeling of possession raged through him. Krysta wasn’t a lightskirt, giving her body to any man that asked. It had been a while since she’d had a lover, judging by the slow yielding of her passage.

  Mace would have to be careful at first, until she adapted to his girth. He wasn’t a small man and he didn’t want to hurt her.

  No, pain was the farthest thing from his mind as he watched his finger disappear into her. She was wet, but he wanted her wetter. He needed to taste her cream and know every detail about her gorgeous body. Dipping his head, he licked at the little nubbin poking out of her folds, smugly satisfied when she jolted at the first, light contact of h
is tongue. Going back for another pass, he swept deeper this time, licking her cream and learning her taste.

  She was divine.

  He played with her that way for a few minutes, while his finger began to move, sliding in and out, building a rhythm and stroking her higher. Finally, he lowered his lips and latched onto her clit, sucking and using his tongue. It took only a few moments of this treatment for her to come beautifully against his mouth, drenching his finger with her release.

  He sat back, watching carefully as he added another finger, stretching her wider. She’d have to be as ready as possible to take him without discomfort.

  “Did you like that?” he teased.

  “You know I did.” Her voice was breathy with release. “Take off your leggings, Mace. I want to see you.”

  He’d left himself covered for good reason. He didn’t want to scare her off as a few maids had been in the past. He also didn’t think he would last long once he got his leggings off. He’d wanted her to be ready before he gave in to the incredible desire riding him.

  “I want to lick you.” Her low words sent a jolt through his cock. He knew he’d never last if she came anywhere near him this time. He was too needy.

  “Hold that thought, sweet. Next time you can do anything you want, but right now, I’m too close to the edge.” His gaze burned into hers as he felt her passions rise once more. Little movements of her hips told him she was eager for his possession. Soon, she would be ready. “I want to be inside you when I come. I want to feel you around me, milking my cock.”

  “I want that too.” She moaned as he continued to tease her. She was very nearly ready. All he could think of was sinking into her and he knew he could wait no more.

  Mace worked the lacings on his leggings, pushing them down and away. His cock sprang free, aiming for the place it most wanted to go.

  “Are you with me, love?” He rose over her, tucking himself into the notch of her splayed thighs.

  “Come into me now, Mace. I want you.” She tugged on his shoulders as he lowered himself onto her…and into her.

  She moaned as he took possession with slow, steady pressure, being careful to ease his way with short movements as he claimed her with his body. She was tighter than a fist, and Mace knew he’d never felt anything like the clasp of her warm body. She was heaven itself.

  Settling finally all the way inside, Mace took just a moment to enjoy the grip of her inner walls against his most sensitive skin. He dropped lower, bracing himself on his forearms as he leaned in to kiss her. Mirroring the slow stabbing movements of his tongue in her mouth, he began to move within her hot sheath as she writhed and moaned against him.

  She was a vocal little thing, and he loved every soft whimper from her elegant throat. He nipped at her lips, kissing his way down her body as his cock took over, demanding he fill her harshly, mark her and claim her as his woman. He was a little afraid of the powerful emotions riding him, but Krysta seemed to want as much as he would give.

  This then, was how it felt to be with your mate. Mace knew for certain at that moment, he was looking at his destiny—if he could convince her to accept him—and Nellin. He would do all in his power to secure her agreement, and her love. He wanted her to love him and Nellin and, eventually, the knight who was partner to Nellin’s mate.

  But all that could wait.

  For now, he was experiencing the best sex of his life with a warm, willing woman. All thoughts fled as he sped his pace, gauging her reactions. She was eager for more, if the tugging on his shoulders was any clue. Her short nails dug into his skin, stirring his passion higher.

  “More, Mace! Harder!” She whispered her need near his ear.

  He gave her what they both wanted, speeding toward a hard, fast climax that sent them both into the sky. Crying out, he clung to her as his body seized with an orgasm unlike any he’d felt before, coming in her tight depths with pulsating spurts that went on and on, draining him and elating him at the same time. He lifted enough to watch her face, ecstatic that he could read her own gasping satisfaction on her beautiful face.

  “Krysta,” he sighed her name as he began the slow journey back to earth. Her hands rubbed at his back even as her sheath continued to contract around him in shimmers of delight. He’d heard her call out his name when she came and it was a sound he’d never forget.

  At length when he pulled back, she was smiling. The beauty of her stole his breath as she touched his face.

  “Thank you, my love.” He kissed her with gentle motions, sated and fulfilled as he’d never been before.

  “I think I should be thanking you.” Her light skin flushed. “That was incredible.”

  He chuckled and kissed her again. “For me too. Want to do it again?”

  Chapter Six

  Drake took the stairs to the Lair wing of the castle with a heavy heart. This part of the mountain fortress was where he’d been born and raised among the knights and dragons that crowded the massive halls of the public areas. He saw many people he recognized from his youth, though few now recognized him. Still, many did double takes as he passed, and he knew it was because he looked so like his blood-father.

  He walked quickly, not allowing himself to be drawn into conversation with any of those who looked at him with questions in their eyes. Let them wonder. The evening ahead would be tough enough without questions from well-meaning childhood acquaintances to delay the inevitable confrontation between himself and Sir Declan.

  Drake turned purposefully into the hall that led to the knights’ and dragons’ private quarters. This hall was one of many in the huge Lair, but Drake knew it well. This way led home.

  He arrived in front of the massive entranceway much sooner than he could have wished. Drake stood a moment, taking in the ornate door inset with carved, painted dragons—representations of Lilla and Arlis, the red and gold dragons who lived within the large suite. It was beautiful work, done by one of the knights who’d been apprenticed as a young boy to a fine woodcarver before being chosen—much to his surprise—as a knight. He’d done it as a gift, and much of his work now graced the already elegant castle. It was his hobby now, though it brought great joy to his friends and other recipients of his majestic gifts.

  All of the family names were carved into the beautiful door. Drake stared at his own name for long moments…and the name directly next to his. Jenet.

  There was room for more in the design, presumably for when Jenet chose a partner and mated. Drake had always wished deep in his heart of hearts it would be his name, linked with Jenet’s as her knight partner.

  But those were foolish, boyhood dreams. He loved Jenet too much to saddle her with a partner who was nowhere near good enough to even be a knight. No, Drake had learned that his talents lay elsewhere. He was a grand spy, a lauded bard and an all-around magnificent sneak. The more knightly skills were not for him. He’d left most of them behind when he left through this very door all those years ago.

  Drake had grown and changed a lot since then. He’d become comfortable in his skin, learning who he was without the specter of his blood-father looming large over his shoulder in everything he did. It had been rough at first, but Drake was satisfied now with the way it had all turned out. All…except for Jenet.

  She was an ache in his heart that had never healed. Now, being near her again, he felt the happiness that had been missing from his life for so long. Now he felt complete. And it was entirely too dangerous a feeling.

  He knew he still had to let her go when he left once more. This time, though, the pain of separation just might kill him. He didn’t want to make it any harder on her, so he had to keep his distance. It was the only way to protect her.

  “Are you going to stand there all day or work up the nerve to actually go in?” Lilla’s amused voice sounded through Drake’s mind. He turned his head to find the giant dragon who had been a second mother to him had somehow managed to sneak up on him in the wide hall. He’d been so distracted he’d been unaware of the mas
sive creature’s approach.

  “I’m not sure, Mama Lil.” Drake shook his head, chuckling at himself.

  “It won’t be so bad,” Lilla encouraged him. “You’ll see.” Lilla moved closer and lovingly butted him in the chest with her head. It was a sign of affection, and Drake returned it by rubbing behind her eye ridges in the way he knew she liked.

  Without warning, the doors opened from within and Drake turned to find Ren and Elena there, watching him. Drake’s gaze shot back to Lilla, her head rising now as she shuffled through the door, pushing Drake along with her.

  “You told Ren I was dithering outside the door, didn’t you?”

  “Well, I couldn’t let you stand out there in the hall all night while your dinner was getting cold.”

  Drake’s mother grabbed him in a fierce hug, having to reach up now, though they’d been about the same height when he’d left.

  “Drake, my darling boy! You’re as tall as your fathers now, aren’t you?” Elena stood back to look at him, tears of joy in her beautiful eyes.

  “Or maybe you just got shorter?” He couldn’t resist teasing her, and she chuckled with that tinkling sound of happiness he remembered so well. He’d always loved his mother deeply, and the intervening years hadn’t changed that at all.

  Ren grasped his hand and pulled him in for a quick hug. They were about the same size now, though Ren was just slightly shorter than Declan and now Drake as well.

  “Come on in,” Ren invited. “Supper’s ready. We’ve been waiting for you.” Ren ushered him farther into the oval chamber that housed the dragons’ large wallow. Arlis was there, as gleaming and golden as ever, watching over Jenet, who jumped up, sand flying everywhere when she saw Drake. Within seconds, she was at his side, rubbing her neck against him familiarly as she had when she was just a baby dragonet.

  “I’m so glad you’re back, Drake.”

  He didn’t have the heart to crush the hope in Jenet’s rare, fire opal eyes. He scratched her scales and petted her neck. “It’s good to be back, sweetheart.” Drake realized he meant it and the idea was startling. Never would he have thought his return would feel like this, though in the early years of his self-imposed exile he’d thought through this scene many times.