Chapter 10 #2
He snorted at that. “Perhaps here in the faelands. Standing atop the dais for a dragon means a target across your belly. Araxos has spent years putting down rivals. But recently, we were finally at peace. I just wanted to be left alone.” So much so, he’d all but abandoned the court and its intrigues.
He’d thought to be out of sight and out of mind.
Instead, he’d left himself vulnerable to scheming.
Disliking the forlorn feeling that overcame him at the thought, Attalus again leaned forward.
“You haven’t—”
“I’ve answered multiple questions, doe. Humor me.”
She sighed, the breath puffing against his expectant lips. He got the impression of a cat with its hackles raised, trying to be bigger and scarier than it was. When her dark blue gaze flicked down to his mouth, he dared to close that last breath between them.
He wasn’t actually sure if fae kissed much—dragons rarely did, what with all the sharp teeth. It was more a human custom he’d taken to in the establishments of Bargarad. But she knew what he’d meant when he said it, and to his delight, her lips began to move under his.
She’s been kissed before.
The shock of jealous rage that lanced through him caught Attalus off-guard.
He wasn’t the jealous type—he was happy to share and be shared when it came to matters of pleasure.
Yet, the idea that someone had come before him, had managed to worm their way close enough to steal kisses from Leita, had a growl clamoring in his throat.
The sound startled her away, and Attalus wanted to smack the back of his own head.
Maybe he was stupid.
Salvaging what he could, when Leita looked at his lips again, he licked them lasciviously. He expected her to roll her eyes or scoff—not gasp and pinch his chin with her thumb and finger to hold him in place.
“Your tongue is forked?”
Attalus grinned before sticking out his tongue. He waggled it at her before lapping at her fingers with the pointed ends. She gasped again, letting him go, but her hand hung in the air between them.
He snatched it and the opportunity.
“Indeed it is,” he crooned, lavishing her palm with a light lick. “That was another question.”
She opened her mouth to protest, and he swooped in for the strike. Her sharp inhale rang in his ears as his forked tongue rasped against hers. She was softer than him, so damn soft and silky.
Attalus forgot to breathe. The world and all its problems fell away from them, leaving only that golden bond between them. It was fragile, of course, so new and vulnerable. Yet, without doubt, he felt himself tied to her, the knots growing evermore numerous.
This time, he had the sense to be the one to end the kiss. Lingering just long enough to nip her lower lip, Attalus sat back on his bedroll, utterly content with the sight of her swollen lips and adorable bafflement.
“My turn, I believe,” he said.
Those jewel-hard eyes glittered when she frowned at him. “You haven’t even answered my first question.”
“And you’ve answered none of mine.”
“You haven’t asked me anything.” Leita scrubbed her hands over her face. “Was your real crime annoying the daylights out of the anax?”
“Perhaps, but I didn’t stay long enough to hear my other charges.”
Plopping her cheek in her palm and setting her elbow on her knee, she rolled her other hand, bidding him continue with his story.
There wasn’t much left to tell—at least not that he remembered clearly. He described the bite and the venom and how a fang had been left in his side. He told her of his flight north, not sure how long it’d taken, but eventually following the great column of smoke to the raging wildfire.
“Eventually I woke long enough to drag myself to this cave,” he concluded, “and that’s where you found me.”
“Venom…?” she repeated in a murmur.
He didn’t know how she managed it, but Leita looked even more troubled than before. Her frown would become permanent if she wasn’t careful. Although he couldn’t say how truly old she was, she seemed young to Attalus. Why then did she carry so many troubles?
He intended to find out. Right after another kiss.
This time, she didn’t gasp or grumble but met him with stoic dignity. He might’ve laughed at her determination to suffer through, but Attalus had always been one to enjoy a partner’s pleasure as much as or more so than his own.
Sliding his tongue across her lips, he coaxed them open enough to slip inside.
Twining their tongues together, he eased her closer, enough that he could suckle and nip.
Attalus cupped her cheek, holding her where he wanted as he canted his head to deepen the angle.
He didn’t imagine the little moan that hummed in her throat and swallowed it down greedily.
He lingered longer than before, taking another kiss after he found her amenable to the last. It was a while before he finally pulled back, leaving behind a few quick presses to her lips.
Gods, these lips. They might just drive him mad.
For a feral woodland creature, she certainly had a plush little mouth.
Those precious fangs of hers intrigued him; he’d heard rumors that fae were known to bite during sex.
His scales were hard and his hide tough, but would she try anyway?
He’d let her chew him up if it meant wearing her mark.