Page 64 of Dragons' Future

Cyril’s breath tickles as he slides his tongue over my skin.

"Don't tell me I'm missing all the fun." Hauck sits on the edge of the tub and slides his legs in. He's been with the healers, who'd managed to neutralize the lingering poison in his blood and knitted the wound in his thigh closed.

"Are you supposed to be getting that wet?" I point to the bandages now wrapping his leg.

Hauck slides all the way in, the water lapping just above his waist line, and strides over to me. "Good question." He swipes me from Cyril and hoists me onto his own hips in one smooth motion. My legs wrap around his waist on instinct though I groan at the loss of fullness inside my channel. Hauck aligns his full self with my opening and reseats me atop his length.

Cyril hisses and strokes himself, his gaze locked on my chest. Tavias grips my backside, massaging it firmly.

"Better not fall, my queen," Hauck purrs into my ear as I ride him. "Wouldn't want to tumble over and upset the healers."

"Stop calling me that." I groan at the delicious movement inside me. The scales along Hauck's cock expand in just the right way to stimulate every sensitive part inside me whenever he pulls back, then lie flat to let him reseat himself. Hard, deep, and determined. "I don't know what to do with all the people kneeling everytime they see me."

"Get over here and I'll kneel before you," Quinton says from the other side. His voice is rough, the erotic promise in it making me clamp around Hauck’s cock and waist. Cyril joins Tavias behind me and cups my breasts, his thumbs rubbing each peak. He is going slow and gentle, like we have all the time in the world. Because for the first time, in a long time, we do.

I lean my head back. Cyril leans over to take my mouth with determined strokes. I feel his pleasure echoing through the bond, mixing with mine, with all of ours. And I kiss him back just as intently, leisurely.

"It's over, isn't it?" I say, when he finally pulls away. "No more priests, no more trials, no more Salazar, no more monsters spilling out into the throne room?"

"It is," Cyril assures me, a corner of his mouth quirking up. "My queen."

I bite his lip and he laughs. Stars, I love that sound. Love him. All of them. We've already dispatched word for Darren’s pack to bring Lilith and the eggs to the palace, and tomorrow we will start to prepare the nursery. Tomorrow. Today—what's left of it after the battle—is for us.

Someone pounds on the door to the bathing chamber.

"Go away," Quinton calls. His heated gaze is on the connection between me and Hauck, where our bodies undulate in rhythm.

The pounding continues.

"Go. Away." Quinton repeats in his shadow voice, the kind that makes everyone but me shudder.

"Your Highnesses..." the voice on the other side is apologetic. "There is an issue. Reports are flowing in from the pier. It’s an emergency.”

"Rut it." Cyril pulls away with a scowl and stalks out of the tub, grabbing a towel to wrap around his hips before cracking the door open. There is a low murmur of conversation, then he returns, his jaw tight.

"What was it that Salazar ranted about before he died?" he asks.

Quinton pulls himself out, the water still running down the grooves of his muscles. “He called us already dead. It wasn’t specific.”

I reluctantly separate from Hauck and settle onto my feet. "It sounded like rambling. He wasn't exactly in a clear state of mind," I sigh, mentally cursing whatever is having Cyril pulling on pants instead of getting his cock back into the tub. "What's happening?"

"An incoming fleet has been spotted at the horizon. A hundred ships strong. All bearing Queen Nagaia’s pendant and the standards of the Serpari Court,” says Cyril.

Tavias swears and I shoo him out of the bathing pool before the tiny specks of lightning crawling over his skin get into the water. Hauck gets out as well, drying himself off. When he is done, he is just as wet as when he started. I swear, the male doesn’t know how to use a towel.

“Geofrey’s pack had serpent like armor at the masquerade,” Quinton says, sheathing daggers along his trousers before even reaching for his shirt. “Salazar as good as announced his alliance with Serpari even back then.”

“He must have called in the Serpari fleet while we were still at the trial grounds,” Tavias says. The lightning is gone now and he is shifting into his commander general mode. “He knew that even if he took the throne, he would need help holding it long term.”

Concern that I’ve learned to identify is Cyril’s flows through the bond.

Hauck’s arms come around me like iron bands. Like he refuses to let me go. And yes, he is still wet.

“We don’t have the ships to stop them, do we?” I ask quietly.

Cyril’s jaw works and he mutters something about needing to learn to shield his thoughts, but he doesn’t ignore my question. “No,” he says with brutal honesty. “Not that would get here in time.”

CHAPTER 37

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