Chapter 3 #2
“You offered a deal when you arrived, and I’m taking you up on it,” I state. “Let me live out my dream of giving someone the warm fuzzies before I have to announce a mate tomorrow evening.”
If Brigid wants an old-fashioned wooing, then that’s what she’s getting. I’ll give her some time to come out of her shell, help her get comfortable here, and discuss a suitable arrangement in private before my announcement.
Damn the council and their lists of suitable companions. They’ll be snorting flames over this sudden turn of events, but I’ve dreamed of this moment for too long to ruin the magic by explaining myself to them.
And this moment does feel like pure magic when Brigid flutters her lashes seductively.
“Oh, I see. I think I know what you meant when you said let me take care of you,” she says, kicking at her silken binds again. “Well, I’d love to let you please me for the day, but I can’t figure out how to get out of this damn contraption.”
“It might help if you eat something,” I suggest.
“Good idea, Your Majesty.” She grunts, turns onto her belly, and scoots backward like an inchworm toward the food tray.
Sweet baby wyvern prophet. She’s obviously not accustomed to any sort of pampering. I have my work cut out for me.
“First things first, call me Matty.” I grab the tray as I stand, then drop into a crouch beside her with it balanced on my knee. Plucking a cake from the arrangement, I hold it near her mouth. “Here.”
She recoils from the tree-shaped treat. “You can’t be serious.”
“Right.” I set it back and swirl my fingers over the selection of crackers and rolled meats. “Cake isn’t a proper breakfast, is it? Would you prefer some cheese?”
“Cake is the best breakfast,” she quips. “But this can’t be what you want from me.”
I scoop the cake up again and swipe it across her lips. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than feeding cake to a beautiful woman.” She licks the green frosting, and the sight of her wet pink tongue sends desire swirling in my low belly. “Come eat.”
She obeys, supporting herself on her forearms to stretch her neck and take a bite straight from my cupped hands.
I repress a groan as her tongue sweeps over my palm, softer and warmer than I’m expecting.
After a few mouthfuls, she’s able to push herself up higher, the mothsilk unraveling to release her arms. She eyes the assortment of sweets, and I push a mini snowball cake between her teeth.
“See, you’re doing so well,” I encourage her. “Talk to me. Tell me about your life at the Academy.”
I listen with rapt attention as she bathes in the warm glow of the fire pit burning in the middle of the dome and tells me about her lonely life in a charmed dormitory.
I learn that Brigid is an early bird, preferring to rise before the sun to get to her job as a potions assistant.
She doesn’t really start to relax until she mentions the stray cats at the Academy—the unwanted familiars she feeds every evening.
“Will it be ok if I write a letter to an acquaintance back at the Academy asking her to look out for them?” she asks. “I trust her enough to leave something out for my favorite grumpy tabby.”
“Of course,” I answer. “You can write to anyone you like. There aren’t any restrictions on your communications.”
She sighs her relief, and the mothsilk threads twist over her shoulders, reconfiguring themselves into a halter gown.
“It worked,” she says, lifting her hand to touch the straps that have just tied themselves into a bow behind her neck. Moving on her hands and knees, she stops in front of me. “Now that that’s out of the way, shall we seal our deal with a kiss?”
I swallow hard. “Yes.”
I sink to my heels and cup her chin as she leans toward me. It’s bliss when our mouths meet, the touch of her warm lips the very thing my body has been craving. It must do something for her too, because the fire pit crackles, its flames threatening to spill outside of the stone ring.
Smoke mixes with Brigid’s scent, a wave of the aroma washing over me as I open my mouth to let her explore carefully, trying to be mindful of my razor-sharp teeth. She quickly gets the hang of me, and the forked ends of my tongue flicker with joy when we meet.
Her jaw drops with a startled squeak, but she only pauses for a second before she goes back to kissing me. I’m getting carried away thinking of all the ways I could elicit those noises from her body.
“There. The deal is sealed,” I pant as I pull back. “I promise you will always have access to your magic, a home in my territory, and the protection of the Dragon Queen.”
“And I will be your witch until Solstice,” Brigid pledges, but I plan on winning her kiss beneath the mistletoe tomorrow night and sharing the Solstice with her each year. She tips her face up. “Even if that means staying locked in your fire chamber and eating cake all day.”
“That sounds like a good plan to me,” I say, struggling to get my thoughts straight as she brushes my sleeve.
I wouldn’t mind staying here like this, listening to her chatter away about the years of her life that I’ve missed.
“But if there’s some other way you’d like me to please you, then I want you to tell me. ”
She drops her hand. “Oh, I don’t know if I can. You’re a Queen and I’m a—”
“Brigid. No.” I nip her self-deprecating comment in the bud. “I loved the little noises you made while we were kissing. I want to learn the best ways to make you moan and squeak. Please tell me.”
She flushes again, the rosy color spreading down her neck as she lowers her eyes to her lap. “Then maybe you should show me what that tongue can do.”
I take her up on the invitation, kissing her with less timidness.
I let my tongue wander into the cave of her mouth, undulating over her flat teeth.
Her hands slip over my shoulders to embrace my neck, holding on to me as I coax her onto her back.
Strands of gold, copper, and honey shimmer in the auburn waves fanned over the stone as she looks up at me and sighs, “Matty.”
Perhaps she’s merely playing a role today, but she calls my name so sweetly. I want to show her that I’ll always come when she needs me.
“Yes, love?” I ask, flickering my tongue down her neck and over her collarbones.
The mothsilk gown opens to expose her full breasts falling to the sides, and I cup them in my hands, bunching them back to the center.
I nip one of her pink nipples playfully before sucking it between my lips in earnest.
“Please.” Brigid arches her back, and I follow the movement of her body, trailing my tongue over the slight swell of her soft belly as I stretch out to nestle myself between her legs. She lifts her hips, letting her skirt drop back.
“Use your words.” I flick my tongue in the air above the apex of her thighs and drag my claws through the patch of reddish brown curls there, feeling the dampness gathering.
I’ve never taken a witch as a lover before, so I’m surprised by her lack of scales and the velvety texture of her mound.
It parts easily when I split her plump folds with my fingers to uncover the pink flesh between.
I marvel at the darker nub sitting above the thin lips of her slit, wishing I could shift into my dragon form and sink the tip of my tail into her, but I won’t be doing that yet. Not until she’s ready. “Tell me what you want me to do to this pretty pussy.”
She tucks her chin and whispers, “I want you to lick me there, please.”
“I didn’t quite catch that,” I tease, and there’s a burst of heat behind me as the fire pit rages on.
Brigid walks her heels up to her ass and drops her knees open, inviting me in. “Please eat me out, Matty.”
After years of hoping and waiting, I take the first taste of my mate, and it’s better than anything I’ve imagined in my wildest dreams.