Hidden Dragons (19 page)

“It looks big,” she said, craning to see farther into the opening.

Rick dug a flashlight out of his duffel and scanned the beam around. “It
is
big.”

The bit Cass saw was empty and dry and blessedly out of the frigid wind.

“Wait two minutes while I check it,” he said.

Cass hugged her hands beneath her armpits and humored him. She couldn’t have checked it from outside anyway. Right then, her energy sense was as numb as the rest of her.

Rick didn’t keep her waiting long. The smile he returned with was cheery. “No bears, no snakes, no trolls. Maybe a couple field mice, but Poly will scare off those.”

“Good,” she said, her teeth chattering a bit.

Rick’s face altered with concern. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?”

Cass let out a sheepish laugh. “You were so impressed with how tough I was. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Rick pulled her to him and rubbed her back briskly. Cass buried her head in his chest and sighed with pleasure. Wolf that he was, his body had remained warm. Before she could really snuggle, he dropped a quick kiss into her hair. “Let’s get inside and set up. I’ve got supplies for starting a fire.”

As it turned out, he’d stolen three canisters of Duraflame Smokeless Log-Coater.

“You’re a genius!” she exclaimed as he dabbed the enchanted gel onto an armload of branches he’d piled in the cave’s center. They’d burn many times longer now—and without giving them away.

He’d packed food in the duffel too, plus spell-shrunk bedrolls, and an empty Christmas cookie tin in which he very carefully placed the precious rocks he’d carried along with him. He set the metal container a foot from the flickering fire, thought about it a moment, and nudged it an inch closer. Cass bit her lip against teasing, but he saw what she was thinking.

“Laugh now,” he said. “You’ll eat those sniggers if these things hatch.”

“God knows what we’ll do with them if they do.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “We’ve done all right so far.”

They’d done more than all right, considering. Without warning, Cass’s eyes teared up. How pathetic was it that sharing this adventure with him was more fun—and more excitement—than she’d had in two decades?

~

Canned hash and protein bars made up dinner. Cass appeared not to have eaten hash before. After a cautious bite, she finished her portion without complaint.

Being lakeside was handy for washing up and seeing to calls of nature. Cass returned from her trip outside with the cat trotting behind her. Poly fell on the final slice of hash like it was filet mignon. The bell on her collar jingled with the fervor of her chomping.

“Good thing she isn’t fussy,” Cass observed fondly.

“Mm-hm.” Rick sat on a rock a foot from the fire. He hadn’t built a blaze, just enough to warm them and stare into. He turned his deactivated cell phone round and round in his hands. It clinked on the electrum gauntlet, the rhythmic sound soothing his edginess.

Cass paused by him and rubbed his shoulder. “Sometimes you can’t know in the moment whether you made the right decision. Sometimes you have to wait and see.”

He looked up at her. “Am I that easy to read?”

She smiled, bending to pick up the two bedrolls. They were heavy but no thicker than wrung towels. “I’m knackered. I’m going to set these up.” She found a flat spot she liked and pulled the spell tabs on both. The sleeping bags decompacted and unrolled. Cass knelt and zipped the pair together, forming a double sack.

She noticed him watching her. “This is okay, right? You don’t want to sleep separately?”

“It’s good,” he said, his voice husky.

Cass’s lips curved, causing the heat spreading through his chest to spike. “You know, I never really saw the charm of camping until now.”

Rick couldn’t speak. He was so grateful she wanted him. He stood and peeled off his shirt, only just avoiding ripping the material on the gauntlet’s spikes. He unzipped his jeans left-handed, loving how Cass went motionless and watched wide-eyed. Once he’d removed his running shoes and socks, he shoved the denim down.

His cock rose without obstruction as he shucked his boxer briefs.

All he wore then was his saint medal.

“
Man by Firelight
,” she murmured like it was the title of a painting she admired. Inspired by the attention, his shaft strained longer.

“Take off your clothes,” he rasped.

She rose, removing her garments as unfussily as he had. Then she stood without moving, seeming to understand he needed to drink in the sight of her. No painter could have captured her. Her skin was as white as sugar but at the same time alive with color. Tiny rainbow glints sparkled on its surface wherever the firelight licked. Her breasts were beautiful rounded handfuls decorated by tight nipples prettier than rubies. Her thatch was a neat raven triangle, her waist and hips mimicking the curves of an hourglass. Her proportions were so precise and pleasing a watchmaker could have constructed her. She was real, though, and for this night entirely his. Looking at her literally made his mouth water. When his gaze finally traveled back to her face, a wash of rose pink stained it.

“I like the way you look at me,” she confessed.

“That’s good,” he responded breathlessly. “I don’t think I can stop.”

His cock was so hard it pounded. Cass’s eyes dropped to it. When she licked her lips, he felt a drop of pre-come squeeze from the tip.

“I’ve heard a good fight makes werewolves horny.”

“That isn’t false,” he agreed hoarsely.

“You’ve been showing some restraint.”

“We had things to do.”

She stepped onto the joined bedrolls, each long white leg enchanting him in turn. She sank to her knees as gracefully as a water sprite, then stretched out on her side. A second drop of wetness squeezed from his dick. She patted the quilting in front of her. “Do we have anything better to do right now?”

He moved to her, awkward with desire and emotion. He dropped to his knees, to his side, and pulled her against him.

“Shit,” he cursed, hugging her for a new reason. “You’re still cold.”

She tipped her head up and licked his chin. “Why don’t you warm me?”

He moaned when one of her chilly thighs insinuated between his. “Hold still,” he said gruffly, wrapping her close full length. He wanted to warm her up a minute. Her shivering while he made love to her wasn’t his fantasy.

Cass had her own agenda, he guessed. She nuzzled the crook of his neck. “Your penis is burning me.”

She undulated against it, the curve of her belly smooth. Rick’s hand—the hand with the gauntlet, as it happened—clamped tight around her butt.

“I want to roll you under me,” he whispered, craving that control. “But these damn spikes will tear up the bedroll.”

She kissed him: deep, strong, with plenty of tongue action.

“Fuck,” he gasped, just about seeing stars once she released him. He couldn’t look away from her. Her blue eyes glowed with desire, soft and fiery at the same time. Maybe the fight had torqued her up as well.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said, her voice as incendiary as her gaze. “I want you to take me from behind like your wolf would.”

He jerked but not with shock. A flood of hormones had surged into his bloodstream. She’d thrown a switch in his nature she couldn’t have known was there. In spite of how much he wanted to do it, he held back. “I might go too hard at you if I do. I . . . That position really brings out my dominance.”

“You want to let it out.”

He did . . . but maybe not with her.

“Rick,” she scolded, and—oh—his name was magic on her lips. “I used to sneak-read werewolf bodice rippers. I’ve been dreaming of you taking me like that since high school.”

The idea of
her
dreaming about
him
set his skin on fire. He growled as he flipped her onto her front. She was half faerie. She wasn’t weak, and she could move fast. All the same, she hadn’t a hope in the world of stopping him.

She ended up on her hands and knees, back dipped, pretty ass in the air, neck held carefully captive within the circle of his gauntlet. He pushed until her brow rested on the pillow that came with the bedroll. Then he stopped. She didn’t need more force in order to react.

She sucked in a startled breath to find herself where she was—though she’d literally asked for it.

Sensing she could take more, he nudged her knees wider with his own. She struggled for just a moment, then settled obediently. The trust this implied humbled him.

He could have gone at her. He was ready, and so was she. He didn’t need his wolf’s gifts to scent her arousal. His cock pounded like a demon, goading him to pump into her, its thick flesh stretched to the aching point. Knowing he didn’t have to wear a condom made him want it even more.

He remembered the tight hot heaven of sliding into her.

He didn’t do it. Her beauty—and her longing—spread before him like a feast. No lover worth the name wouldn’t have played with her beforehand.

He folded himself around her, his knees between hers, his throbbing length laid up the cleft of her ass. He released her neck so he could kiss her nape. The hand in the gauntlet rubbed over and around her breasts. Despite the metal’s ability to stop projectiles, the thinness of the cleverly fashioned plates practically let him feel her flesh through them. He knew the electrum wasn’t cold. His heat had transferred into it. He slid his left hand, his bare hand, across her belly to hug her waist.

Then he tucked his chin over her shoulder.

“Now I’ll warm you,” he said.

He held her, blanketing her with his body. All he moved was his hands. He liked stroking her hip and belly, liked cupping her dangling breasts and slowly plucking their taut nipples.

He especially liked how she responded.

“Rick,” she whispered, moving restlessly under him. “That glove . . .”

He shifted back a few inches, kissing her between her shoulder blades. He could tell she wasn’t complaining. “Don’t move.”

“Rick—”

He put both his hands behind her head, holding it down as gently as he could. “Stay,” he said softly.

When he thought she would, he let go. He drew his palms down and up her back, down and up, the shining white of her skin brightening with each pass. Petting her was like stroking velvet, a special version woven from silk and faerie dust. He squeezed the halves of her ass, a sound of admiration breaking from him at the sumptuous give of her curves.

“Rick—”

“Shh.” Relishing how her squirms increased, he kissed a path down her vertebrae. His canines had slid out, upper and lower. He dragged them across her buttocks, then bit each cheek lightly.

The sound Cass choked out was a muffled yip. The scent of her arousal grew heavier.

“I’m warm now,” she insisted breathily.

Hot
was more like it. Her heightened core temperature beat out at him. He licked all the way up her spine. She tasted delicious: human salt, faerie spice, and some indefinable sweetness that was all her. He nuzzled her nape, drunk on her and the magic they made together. Aroused almost beyond bearing, he smoothed her wavy hair aside for his mouth.

His balls were pulsing nearly as hard as his cock.

“Can I hold you here?” he whispered. “With my teeth? Male wolves like to . . . restrain their partners during sex.”

She shuddered. He ran the electrum gauntlet down her front, sliding one metal finger through her curls, over her swollen clit, and into her wet heat. He guessed she enjoyed the slightly alien intrusion. She was already drenched, but she gasped and creamed over him.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I’d like you to restrain me.”

His dick jerked like she’d stroked it.

He angled his head and got his teeth where he wanted them: secure around her skin but not breaking it. She began to tremble, and his breath came harder. Had he ever wanted anyone this much? He backed his finger slowly out of her, leaving it pressed beside her clitoris but not rubbing. His hips weren’t in the right position. Lifting them dragged his erection around her ass.

That felt so good he groaned.

“You’re wet,” she said, the trail of his arousal difficult to miss.

He didn’t want to let go of her to answer. He grunted against her nape. A little too eager, he jabbed the head of his cock at her and missed.

She reached for his hip, tilting her pelvis higher. The next time he pushed, he glided easily into her.

Each of them let out a low pleasured sound.

He went in and in, until her warm wet flesh clasped him all around.

He closed his eyes. His bulbus gland was itching. He didn’t think he’d escape it going off this time. He hoped those werewolf bodice rippers prepared her for the shock.

“Push up,” he said.

Cass straightened her slim arms. He braced his left hand over hers with his thumb behind her wrist, symbolically holding her captive. His gloved hand found occupation in gently circling her clitoris. Her hot button was engorged, slippery with excitement.

“Rick,” she urged. Her ass cheeks squirmed deliciously against his pelvis, her pussy tightening on his cock.

He wouldn’t let her rush him, no matter how strong the temptation was. He pulled back and thrust in slowly, savoring taking her again. She moaned, and he fell in love with the sound. He thrust once more like the first time, his teeth gripping her nape a little more securely. He kept this up, caressing her sheath with his raging hard-on for long minutes. It wasn’t easy. Contrary impulses tugged at him. Beauty like hers invited worship
and
pillaging.

It seemed Cass was in the mood for plunder. Her neck arched with longing beneath his grip. “God,” she groaned. “You’re killing me.”

He treated her to a more forceful stroke.

“Unh,” she said, her hips backing into it.

He gave her another one.

“Yes,” she gasped, and abruptly he couldn’t stop.

He drove at her like his lust wanted: hard long thrusts, his pelvis moving faster and faster until this wasn’t the sort of coupling a human could have given her. He guessed he liked that idea, because he turned as unthinking as his wolf, his body following its instincts for what he and she would enjoy.
It
found the angle that let him deeper.
It
judged the force they needed to go over. Cass had to brace hard to take his fucking, but she was in it all the way, pushing back at him for each stroke. Her little cries excited him, the rising heat of her body, the snug clamping of her cunt.