Page 11 of Never Feed a Dragon

The massive dragon shifter polished off the cupcake in two more bites.

He would probably eat everything in Tupperware Mountain if I gave him twenty minutes alone with it.

“Did you come here for me, or for the cake?” I asked.

His eyes met mine.

There was heat in them.

Enough to make my panties wetter. I’d have clenched my legs together, if he wasn’t standing between them. His erection pressed lightly against my center—too lightly.

“I figured you’d rather I dull my appetite with sugar so I don’t keep you up all night.”

Shit.

He silenced me with that one.

And made me hotter.

“I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow,” I said.

His lips curved upward. The smile was predatory, in a way that just made me want him more.

He leaned in and kissed me.

It was soft, and sweet.

And that wasn’t what I wanted.

I grabbed his face with my hands, parting his lips with my tongue, and he responded immediately.

His hands found my ass as his tongue moved with mine.

It was natural.

Easy.

Perfect.

He pulled me against his erection, hard enough to make me moan into his mouth. There was too much fabric between us—way too much fabric.

Getting free of my long dress was going to take a minute, though, and I didn’t want to stop. So I just kept kissing him.

And kissing him.

And kissing him.

Eli worked the dress up to my thighs as we made out.

When they were bare, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pinning him tighter to my clit.

He released my mouth long enough to pull the dress over my head, then let his gaze trail slowly down my figure. My black pushup bra made my small chest look bigger, and the gray thong I had on didn’t hide a damn thing, tucked between my folds after the way we’d been grinding on each other.

“I could get off at just the sight of you, drenched with how much you want me,” he said, his voice low.

It didn’t hold a shred of his normal playfulness.

The words were raw.

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