Chapter 17
Gregory
Evan quivered under my touch, a visible ripple beneath the soft fabric that began deep within. His pupils were blown wide, black pits in a sea of green, and a frantic pulse fluttered against the delicate skin of his throat.
Triumph sang in my bones. I knew with certainty that beneath his furious facade, this Evan—this stranger from another world—was just as lost in this as I was.
Evan’s gasp tore out of him, wet and broken. “I’m not begging, you beast.”
I moved my thumb, easing it against the seam of his lips. They parted for me without resistance. “That’s not how you address me.”
He locked his eyes with mine, a challenge flaring in their depths as his tongue slid out.
He drew a slow, wet path over my thumb in a languid stroke that nearly buckled my knees.
His teeth sank, incisive and sharp, breaking the skin.
The pain was a distant thing, eclipsed by the pheromones pouring from him.
My cock jumped hard against the confines of my trousers, a violent throb that stole my breath.
The eroticism of my blood welling on Evan’s tongue eclipsed any pain from the wound.
I nearly came right then, ruined by the willful look in his eyes and the sweet aroma of his slick—a heady musk that fogged my thoughts and demanded I take what was mine.
Evan spoke in a hoarse, deep thrum laced with defiance. “So what am I supposed to call you?”
I slid my palm from his jaw to the back of his neck, dragging my bleeding thumb along his skin.
It left a crimson smear, and I savored the violent contrast, a claim against the elegant line of his throat.
Tangling my fingers in the soft strands of his hair, I gathered a fistful and tugged, enough to tilt his head back.
The longer I held him there, drinking in the scent from his throat, the more his breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in rapid bursts.
The chair groaned when I shifted my weight onto the armrest to loom over him.
As the dragon blood inside me stirred, my canines lengthened, and I grazed my open mouth along the smooth skin of his neck.
A moan ripped from his throat against the pressure as I traced a claiming trail from the hollow of his collarbone to the quick pulse under his jaw.
I pulled back. “Alpha.”
He licked his lips, my blood still glistening there, a clear invitation for me to claim his mouth. “And if I call you Alpha,” he crooned, “will you tell me how a man gets pregnant in the first place?”
My sweet Evan from another world also enjoyed games, and he was playing them with a skill I hadn’t seen coming. A fresh wave of heat gathered in my gut, the simmer of the dragon blood inside me waking at his challenge.
“That depends,” I rasped, my thumb skimming the faint marks my teeth had left on his throat. “It depends on how you say it. You’ll either get your answer, or you’ll get a punishment.”
He surrendered to my touch, his lashes fluttering. His lips parted, and the breathy syllable that escaped was designed to unravel what little control I had left.
“Beast.”
That act of pure rebellion was a spark thrown on dry tinder. He wasn’t afraid of the monster; Evan was provoking it.
I picked him up from the chair in one smooth motion and tossed him over my shoulder before he could protest. Evan’s body was a welcome weight against me as I crossed the distance to the bed and dropped him onto the edge of the mattress, where he landed with a soft bounce, his legs swinging and the quilt rustling under his hips.
Before the mattress had absorbed the impact, I was on him, caging him in by planting my palms on either side of his head. I held my weight suspended above him, letting myself hover inches from contact, our faces close enough to share breath.
A rumbling growl built low in my throat. “Wrong answer, my sweet Evan.” I shifted my weight back, sitting on my heels to study him. Instead of wilting, a wicked smile bloomed on his face.
Evan propped himself upon his elbows. He bent one knee and slid his bare sole up the inside of my thigh until his heel found the hard ridge. He pushed down, straining against the fabric. A guttural groan escaped from my chest as my hips involuntarily thrust against his foot.
“Are you sure about that punishment, beast?” he taunted. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re the one in agony.”
As he spoke, something shimmered in his eyes. A faint emerald ring flared around his irises. It was a brief spark, but enough to hush the world, all noise fading into the sudden, intense stillness centered on the man before me.
My mate had magic, and the power radiating from him seared away the haze of my lust, replacing the predator’s need with breathtaking awe. Yet that calm was overshadowed by something even stronger—a fierce devotion.
He was magnificent, a dangerous, beautiful creature in my hold.
The soft candle’s glow caught the damp, copper strands of hair stuck to his forehead, turning them into threads of ember against his skin.
The need to bring him to his knees conflicted with a surprising new desire to fall on mine.
If he were strong enough to be my downfall, I would welcome it.
I seized his ankle and pulled him toward me.
The motion sent him off balance, and his elbows buckled, dropping him on his back with a short hiss.
With his leg still elevated, I hooked it over my shoulder.
Lowering my head, my gaze locked with his before I began scenting his body, gently nuzzling my nose against the sensitive skin of his calf.
My slow trace up his leg ended at the promised warmth of his inner thigh.
He was too close to the edge, so I slid my free arm under his back, repositioning him into the middle of the bed in one smooth motion.
Keeping his leg draped over my shoulder, I arranged my knees into the quilt on either side of his hips.
The long night tunic had gathered around his belly, leaving the length of him exposed. It was long and pinkish, with a dusting of the same freckles that marked his body. A single bead of precum glistened at the tip.
With a reverent touch, I rested my palm on the flat plane of his stomach.
“In here is your womb.” I traced a slow line with my fingers down his abdomen.
“A place of creation. To bring our child forth.” The tip of my finger indented into the soft skin.
“And to bring that child into the world, your flesh would be parted by a blade… right here. It is the greatest sacrifice a mate can make.”
As my path traveled lower, skipping over his desperate, twitching length, a choked noise caught in his throat. When he started to move his hand, I closed my fingers around his wrist. “Ah, ah. You don’t get to touch yourself.”
I released him, my touch gliding along the sensitive line of his perineum before dipping lower. It met the slick heat of his entrance, and I pushed against the tight ring of muscle, letting it coat me in his arousal. I held his gaze as I showed him the proof on my fingertip.
“This,” I rasped, “gets wet for me. So I can get inside you… and claim the place only I was made to fill.”
Evan threw his head against the quilt, and his throat arched in a taut, vulnerable line. “You’re bold, beast,” he breathed. “You speak of claiming places, but I haven’t said yes to a single thing.” His words were a protest, but the corner of his mouth curled up in a provocative smirk.
This was part of the game—the taunt—but his body that was slick and exposed for me couldn’t lie. He was sober enough to know what was happening, what he was allowing. His pride demanded he be taken, not that he surrender.
“Your body still says things you won’t.” I leaned closer, my scent a thick cloud around him. “Should I punish you for those lies?”
Evan’s eyes darkened. He took a moment, his ribs rising and falling in a stuttering rhythm. When the answer came, it was a shaky, breathless whisper. “Yes.”
That single word was all the permission I needed. I hauled his other leg up, resting it on my opposite shoulder so that he was splayed open to me. I gripped his hips, digging my thumbs into the bones there as I lowered my head to his entrance.
I was greeted by a potent aroma, his jasmine scent layered with a sweeter, muskier note of arousal. I tasted him, a slow, deliberate lick of the slickness that coated his skin. The sweetness was a shock against the salt. He was divine.
I lapped deeper, my tongue finding the tight pucker and teasing the sensitive nerves.
He tried to hold back, his hand flying to his mouth to stifle a moan as his hips lifted from the bed and his thighs quaked.
He was so tight, clenching around my tongue, and the sight of him fighting his own pleasure almost undid me.
Though I wanted more, something warned me not to push him too far.
I eased his legs down to the mattress. A noise of protest, a frustrated whine, escaped him at the movement.
I stood, shedding my robe and trousers in a few quick movements.
Sweat mingled with the water in my hair.
Raking my fingers through the damp strands, I returned to the bed and got on my knees before him.
“Come here.” I scooped him from the mattress and settled him in my lap, turning him to straddle my thighs so we were chest to chest. “Take it off.”
He shook as he obeyed, sliding the long nightshirt over his head with trembling hands. The moment it was off, he tried to cover himself, crossing his arms over his chest, but I eased them away.
“No. Let me look at you.” The peaks of his nipples were stiff, beaded, and I ached to taste them. I captured one with my mouth, licking the tip with my tongue before biting down. He cried out, his fingers knotting in my hair.
I soothed the sting with a slow, flat swirl of my tongue, satisfied by the way he keened. One taste wasn’t enough; I needed to claim everything.
I traced my open mouth down the solid curve of his chest, drinking him in. He tasted divine, sweet like the honey cakes from the kitchen, but richer, spiced with his heat. I kissed the erratic pulse fluttering beneath his ribs, determined to leave the memory of my mouth on every inch of skin.
The scent of jasmine hit me in a dizzying wave, mixing with the dark smoke of my own desire. I buried my nose in the soft dip of his waist, inhaling deeply until my lungs burned with him.
“Beautiful,” I murmured against his navel, feeling his stomach quiver under my lips.
Evan squirmed in my lap, his thighs tightening around my waist. The friction of our arousal grinding together drew a ragged groan from him, his hips seeking more contact.
I ran my hand along the graceful line of his spine, and he arched into my touch. When I found his opening again, I slipped one finger inside.
“Gregory,” he whimpered, the name a muffled plea against my mouth as I kissed him, swallowing the word itself. I began to move my finger inside him, and his hips answered with a desperate rock, our lengths grinding together with the motion as his inner muscles clenched. I paused, breaking the kiss.
“Am I hurting you?” I asked.
He shook his head, his eyes wild. “No. Don’t stop… please.”
I added a second finger, and he writhed in my lap, his whimpers turning into unchecked cries. His body tensed, a convulsion racking his frame as he came undone with a broken scream.
That untamed pleasure on his face and the tight clench of his inner muscles around my fingers dragged me over the edge with him. A roar tore from my throat as I followed him into the darkness, spilling myself hot against the flat plane of his stomach.
Evan went limp in my lap, dropping his head onto my shoulder, boneless and utterly spent. His scent, thick with climax and magic, was all I could breathe. I held him as my tremors slowly subsided, my fingers tangled in his sweaty hair.
He was mine.
I moved, tucking the edge of the quilt up to cover his legs, and positioned him more securely against my chest, my chin resting on the top of his head. Evan was powerful, magnificent, and he had chosen this.
Holding him, I recognized that my sweet mate was a loner who struggled with self-honesty. Maybe that’s why nightmares haunted his sleep. But I would break down his walls, chase away his nightmares, and show him he wasn’t alone anymore. He was mine to claim, but also mine to protect.