Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (7 page)

It was ecstasy. Every nerve inside her radiated around his touch. Her mind followed the fingers’ whispering movements. Her back arched, trying to push fully against his teasing hand when he journeyed down the valley between her breasts. Logic faded completely as the euphoric fog deepened.

Her eyes fluttered open, almost frightened to see the look on his face. He was concentrating on his fingers, watching them skate over her heated flesh as if this was the most important thing he’d ever done. His touch glided figure-eights around her breasts, coming closer to the center with each sweeping pass.

Morrigan moaned, overwhelmed by the passion she felt for him. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. He was like nothing she’d ever seen before, and being a star-traveling reporter she’d seen a lot.

Her hands disobeyed his order to be still and rose to touch him. As her fingers met hot flesh, his hand stopped and he looked up with a challenging light in his eyes. Morrigan quickly lowered her hands back to her sides. His fingers moved again, resuming their painstaking task.

The glowing crystal pulsed between them, giving off an energy that joined them. Just as his path would have taken him directly over the peaked buds awaiting him, his hand changed course, dipping over her stomach.

Morrigan tried to fight it, but couldn’t stop the small whimper of denied passions as it sneaked past her throat. Her fingers twitched uncertainly. Her breath came in pants. She felt as if she was drowning in a pool of turbulent sensations. He was dragging her under the tide of his passion, but she couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to. She was his prisoner and, for the moment, nothing else mattered.

“Ualan,” she whispered. Morrigan trembled, uncertain of what to expect. She only knew she didn’t want him to stop.

T
he soft
, feminine sound of confusion and surrender was more than the war-hardened Draig prince could resist. Ualan looked his fill of her naked form. His gaze took in her brightly painted toenails, her smooth legs, her athletic thighs, the divot of her navel, her strong hips, her lovely breasts, and slender arms. The soft dark hair of her nether region was cropped short and shaved into a narrow line that guarded her opening like a tiny regiment of soldiers defending a fortress. Oh, how he would enjoy ramming through that gate and conquering the softness within.

Mmm, and when her embarrassment had caused her to turn her back to him, he’d thoroughly enjoyed the view of her ass. It was all he could do to keep from tossing her on the bed and forsaking tradition. For a woman who claimed to have had many men, she wasn’t acting like it. Later, when the ceremony was over and they could speak more freely, he would have to teach her the dangers of lying to her husband. But for now…

What had started as a show of power quickly turned into a lesson in self-deprivation. He had to concentrate to keep from consuming her. Gripping her hair, he forced her head back, thrusting her breasts up for the delight of his lips. His mouth came down to flick the tip of a nipple. He thought to only get a hint of what would come with marriage. But he soon discovered one taste was never enough. Like a drunkard craving ale, he tasted her again. His mouth opened, taking a delicious nipple into its depths, swirling it with the rough texture of his tongue, nipping it with his teeth.

“Ah.” Morrigan shivered in response.

Ualan kept distance between their bodies, but all the while his mouth trailed kisses, moving over the valley of her breasts to give ample attention to the other side. When she trembled violently against him, he grinned against the creamy globe and pulled her closer.

He groaned, a low animalistic sound against her warm flesh. The dragon inside him was pleased by this course. His hands discovered the firm pleasure of her derrière as he held her stomach tight to the hard ache of his erection. When he dipped his hips down, the base of his cock pressed dangerously close to that guarded entrance. The searing heat he felt radiating against his balls made him do it again, just a little deeper.

Morrigan froze, as if suddenly afraid of his body’s demands. She started to pull away, as if the fire was too much for her innocent mind to process. He gripped her tighter, refusing to let her get away. Releasing her breast, he claimed her mouth in a swift, passionate embrace. Kissing her with the same fervor he had shown her chest, he tasted her lips before delving beneath the surface to suck her tongue into his mouth.

If he didn’t stop he would push it too far. He dipped his hips again. Naked flesh to his cock urged him to find a frantic release.

He couldn’t.

He mustn’t.

As abruptly as he started his full assault on her body, he ended it. Quickly pulling away, he grabbed his loincloth and wrapped it around his waist before she could even think to protest. He breathed hard, fighting with everything he had to remain strong. In that moment, he knew the gods planned to truly test him.

Morrigan blinked in confusion. Yes, she was not as worldly as she would have him believe.

“Dress,” he commanded softly, needing to hide her nakedness from view. A man could only withstand so much.

A
cold chill
swept Morrigan as she watched him avoid her direct gaze. His breath was calming faster than hers and within moments he didn’t look at all affected by what had transpired between them. In contrast, her body stung with the unfulfilled and burning ache he’d left her with. She couldn’t possibly begin to explore herself, to take care of her own needs, with him staring at her dispassionately like that. With a long, irritated growl, she began gathering the Qurilixian gown from the floor. Slipping it over her body, she left the belt ties off her arms so she could move more freely.

Combing her fingers through her hair, Morrigan searched for a hair tie. Not finding anything of use, she tied the locks into a giant knot at the nape of her neck to hold it from her face and off her heated neck. She refused to look at him until she had finished. When she turned around, he was gone.

U
alan stormed through the encampment
, too irritated to remain in his tent. His arms tingled with the desire to find a sword and lop off his bride’s frustrating, albeit beautiful, head. His lesson was finished. Any more and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. The smell of her passion filled his head. But the law was strict. Until the women chose, the men could not push it further than he already had. Surely, once he explained her refusal to choose, he would be pardoned for beheading her.

Actually, he knew better. Even now if she wanted, she could demand justice for his abandoning her in their tent and put him on guard duty for a month in the lowest level of dungeons. It was a dreaded task, often used as a punishment for small offenders. Spending such a long time in the dark was hard on those used to this bright planet—not because they were afraid, for they could see very well in the dark, but because the blue sun nourished them and gave them life.

“This is no place to be on the bridal night,” came an amused chuckle. “How do you expect to woo her if you aren’t near her? In case you forgot, prince, she’s supposed to take the mask off your face, not leave it on.”

Ualan stopped and turned to study a pair of beast-like green eyes shining at him. Agro was dressed in the traditional tunic and breeches of their people. It was an old style, one the men felt no reason to change. It worked well in combat and in practice.

Ualan’s jaw tightened in irritation, as he looked over his good friend. The man’s eyes dipped down over the prince’s oiled skin and loincloth in amusement. Ualan stepped forward, his eyes daring the man to laugh.

“I take it she hasn’t chosen,” Agro said smoothly, and with a curl of knowing humor to his beard-covered lips.

Ualan’s fist tightened in response. He was not allowed to speak.

Agro was already married and seemed to be enjoying the pleasures of the feast, as was evident by the drunken glaze in his eyes. But Ualan wasn’t fooled. He knew well that Agro’s senses were sharp.

“Your dragon is showing, prince,” Agro warned. “Remember, the unchosen brides don’t know we are shifters. It’s your father’s decree that we keep it this way.”

Ualan made a small growl of discontentment. He wanted to shift and run into the forest. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so emotional.

“She will never be able to choose with you out here,” the man offered his sage advice as he started to move past. Then, suddenly, he stopped and smirked. Ualan knew Agro couldn’t help himself. “By all that’s sacred, you’re an ugly man, Ualan. Get back to the tents before you scare off our women, too.”

Ualan grinned wickedly at the taunt. A fight would do much to restore his good humor. He might not be able to speak, but he could act. Balling his hand into a fist, he rewarded Agro with a swift punch to the face.

The man stumbled back before nodding once. He gave a wide grin. “All right, then, little prince. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

M
orrigan was furious
. How dare he touch her like that and then leave as if it were no big deal? But, more than her fury, she was humiliated by the treacherousness of her body. One incredibly sexy look and she had crumpled to his demands, following his order like a Kintok sex slave.

Dress,
she fumed.
I’ll show you dressed, you big, overbearing caveman!

Satisfied that Ualan would not be coming for her again anytime soon, Morrigan crept to the tent’s opening. It was still dark out, but she knew this night would last longer than the nights on New Earth. That was why the Draig had chosen it for their Breeding Festival. She remembered it vaguely from her uploads—something about the moonlight making them aroused or some such nonsense. There might have been more data about it on the ceremony upload, but that’s the one she skipped. The other facts were still hard to sort through in her mind and took a little concentration to recall.

So much for accurate uploads from Galaxy Brides
, she mused bitterly. Ualan had hardly looked aroused by her, at least not to the extent she had been by him. It shamed her to remember it
. I should write a piece on inaccurate uploads provided to potential brides, and expose the cretin who made those things as a fraud who knows nothing about planetary or cultural facts.

To Morrigan’s surprise, she heard moans of pleasure still coming from various tents around the encampment. It would seem Qurilixian men were certainly insatiable, when they chose to be. She felt an unwanted stirring and an urge to turn around for just one more taste of Ualan’s passions.

“What is the matter with me?” Morrigan hissed to herself, comforted by the sound of her own voice. She would not put herself through that humiliation again. A loud scream of ecstasy pierced the air and she grimaced. “Galaxy Brides, my ass. More like Galaxy Sluts. All right, focus Morrigan, you have got to gather information—anything you can use to fluff up this romantic piece and make Gus happy.”

But saying it was harder than actually doing it. Unlike her other assignments, there was no clear person to interview. She had no idea who the royalty were or if they had even attended. The Qurilixian clearly didn’t believe in crowns or purple flowing robes—rather loincloths—to mark their aristocracy, so there was no pointed sign reading, “Here, look here, this is a prince.” For all she knew, the princes were amongst the ones who hadn’t taken a bride back to their tents. They could all be at home getting drunk and watching each other grow old. Not that she could blame them. None of the women on the spaceship seemed like royalty material to her—herself included.

Moving through the pyramids, Morrigan tried to make her way around to the married couples. But, when the tall throne chairs came into view, she was met with disappointment. No one was left at what she would have called the thrones. Sighing in frustration, she crept closer.

“Ah! Ah!”

Morrigan jolted in alarm at the high-pitched screech, her heart squeezing in her throat, only to relax as she realized the sound came from inside a nearby tent. In frustration, she shook her head.

Concentrate!
she scolded herself.

Then, from the side of the bonfire, Morrigan heard a sultry laugh of a woman followed by the growl of a man. She crept forward in the shadows, careful to stay hidden from view.

A healthy specimen of female beauty came rushing forward, taunting her naked lover with her bared charms. Laughing, she threw back her head and made her way to one of the chairs before the fire. The man growled again, swiftly stalking her with unrefined, animalistic stealth.

Morrigan gasped. Her breath deepened as she watched the couple begin to make love before the flames. She couldn’t take her eyes away, though she knew she should. It was morally forbidden, what she was doing. But it was also erotic and dangerous and thrilling. Her blood began to stir and rush. Her flesh began to tingle and heat. Her lips went dry, eager for Ualan’s kisses to wet them once more.

The man caressed the woman’s skin in long strokes. His fingers tested her wetness. His lips savored her small breasts, worshiping. Then, turning, the woman braced her hand on the chair so her lover could enter her from behind. The man held back, biting and licking the flesh of her backside.

“Oh,” another moan from a tent.

“Argh,” this time it was a man from across the encampment.

“Mmm,” Morrigan bit her lips. Her body flamed. Her head spun in circles until she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think beyond her passionate flesh and churning desires, dizzy—so dizzy. It was as if a spell had been cast and she was the sorry recipient of it. What was happening to her? Her body was going crazy with passion and fire. The sexual tension was so thick that she imagined she could smell it.

True, before tonight, she had been on assignment in some of the most dismal of places, with creatures no human could possibly be attracted to. Her work often kept her from her own kind, making relationships impossible, except with other journalists who she had vowed never to become involved with.

The rare times she was on New Earth, she was always researching or uploading planetary facts into her brain, readying herself for her next assignment. Lack of personal experience didn’t mean she was ignorant. It didn’t mean she didn’t know. Out of all she had borne witness to, Ualan was the first man she had met that had ever stirred her senses to wakefulness, had brought her from one dream into another. And he did it all with very few, low-toned, blood-stirringly erotic words.

Come. Choose.

As Morrigan watched from her place crouched within the shadows, the man stood behind the woman. He grabbed her hips. Morrigan unconsciously touched her breast. Her heart pounded beneath her fingers. Inching with aggravating slowness, the man entered his lover. The woman gasped sharply and threw glorious waves of red-brown hair over her shoulder at him. The man grabbed the locks, using them to control her to his passion.

Unexpectedly, Morrigan felt a caressing hand on her arm. She shivered, instinctively knowing it was Ualan come to fetch her back to his tent. She didn’t move, dazed as her eyes strayed to the thrusting man’s buttocks, her ears jealous of the woman’s cries of passion.

Ualan pulled on her arm, forcing her to stand. She kept her back to him as his lips found her earlobe. The leather mask brushed her neck. The soft breeze swept over her heating skin. The thrusting man’s passions became louder and more claiming as he moved forcefully behind his screaming lover.

Ualan did not pull her back, allowing her to watch, not judging her for it. His people clearly were not inhibited when it came to such things. He continued to kiss her skin, nip at her earlobe and lick at her rapid pulse. His own eyes strayed to the couple. His hand fell from Morrigan’s arm, not restraining her to him, but for the tantalizing motion of his lips on her skin.

“How?” Morrigan asked, breathless. She couldn’t finish the thought as her hips started to mimic a light thrusting of their own accord. But they were frustrated for they thrust against air not solid, scorching man-flesh.
How are you doing this? How are you controlling me?

Ualan misunderstood the weak question, and answered, “My crystal will always find you.”

Morrigan pressed her ass back into his erection. She felt the fur covering him and hated it because it kept him from her. The night was filled with passion, with unforeseen magic. It pulsed around the encampment, through the long night of the festival. It was in the air. It was in every fiber of Morrigan’s body, until she thought,
it doesn’t matter. Tonight it doesn’t matter. Take whatever Ualan offers. Take it, live it, and then keep it secret. No one will ever know. Take it. Take. Choose.

As the fornicating couple climaxed, Morrigan closed her eyes, forgetting what she had sworn to moments before. She wanted Ualan to finish what he’d started. Maybe then she could think clearly. Desperately, she beseeched him, “Take me back to the tent, Ualan. Please, take me back.”

Ualan growled, turning her tenderly so he could lift her into his arms. He did it easily, his muscles folding protectively around her. The crystal still glowed, but she ignored it. She didn’t care if all they felt was its magical effects. Tonight, she would forget her logical approach to everything and believe in magic.

He did not kiss her as he walked, instead choosing to study her intently. Morrigan read a myriad of emotions on his face—the most predominant was passion. But, beyond that, hidden behind his eyes was a searching, a longing and an ache she could feel inside her breasts as if it was her own.