Page 26 of Dragon Prince of New York

He holds his hand out, still looking at the window. “Come here.” Hand in his, he pulls me to my feet. “If I’m going to taste you, I don’t want it to be on a sweaty gym mat. You deserve more than that.”

He draws me toward the stairs, and I try to pull my bra and shirt down to straighten myself up while we walk, but he barks a sharp, “leave it,” without looking back.

The moment we’re in the narrow stairway, he’s on me. Kissing me like he can’t get enough, like I’m keeping him alive.

I climb him like a tree. His hands cup my ass, fingertips grazing almost where I want him, but not quite. He swallows my moan. He tastes salty and sweet, like sweat and sugar and sin.

“Now, Cyrus. I need you now.” I’ve been starving for himlonger than I realized. Since that first moment I saw him all those years ago, and now I can’t get enough.

He charges down the stairs with me in his arms. When we hit the wide hallway that leads to the bedrooms, his strides get longer, practically flying toward his room at the end of the hall. I’m bouncing with each step, moaning, holding him tighter as I kiss the tender skin behind his ear.

He kicks in the door, breaking the hinge in a way that shouldn’t be possible. I laugh into his neck.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.” He throws me down on the massive bed and crawls over me with such fervor it makes my insides clench. His hands work the button and zipper of my pants, tugging as he says, “Lift.”

I do as he commands, and he yanks my pants and underwear down, but not all the way off. I’ve never felt so disheveled. Hair half out of my ponytail from his hands running through it. Shirt and bra pulled up my chest almost to my neck. My pants and panties around my ankles.

“Fuck, you’re a gorgeous mess.” He looks wild with lust and something else I can’t quite place. His smirk returns, but it doesn’t diminish the heat in his eyes, the dangerous flame dancing in the center. It looks so much like fire I can’t quite dismiss it as a trick of the light, but before I can fully process that, he grips my thighs and spreads them as wide as they’ll gowith my pants binding my ankles.

He stops, speechless, like he’s seeing a beautiful sunrise for the first time.

“It’s just a fucking cunt, Cyrus.”

His smile is knowing and dangerous. “There’s that mouth of yours.”

With an eagerness I've never seen from a man before, he dives straight between my legs, suctions his mouth to my clit, and sucks so hard I buck off the bed.

“Yes,” I moan, tremors shaking every cell.

He looks up through heavy lashes, eyes meeting mine. “You have no idea how good you taste.”

“Show me.” I'm not sure what I'm asking for, but I tug him up by the hair, eager to see his face.

With a wicked smile, he dips a finger inside me, rubbing just the right way while watching me. Removing it, he smears my arousal over my lips, the illicit act making my core heat. He crawls up my body to suck my bottom lip into his mouth. My clit pulses, desire building even higher. Impossibly higher.

I whimper, unable to speak with him sucking on mybottom lip.

He releases me, tenderly tucking my hair away from my face. “So. Fucking. Good.”

And then he’s moving down, lavishing my breasts with kisses, swirling his tongue in my belly button, licking a path all the way down. His tongue drags over one side of my vulva and down the other, purposeful, teasing strokes.

I buck my hips, looking for more, and he holds me down, keeping me from the friction I need.

“Stop being a tease!”

“You like it when I tease you. Look how wet it makes you.” He laps straight up my center. “You’re drenched.”

I try to thrust against his face again, and his nails bite into my thighs. It feels so good that I make an animalistic noise I’ve never made before. “Make me come, Cyrus.”

“Hmm.” He hums against my clit, and I shake all over, the tension too much to take.

Something buzzes against my calf, and I look down to see my phone on the bed where it must have fallen out of my back pocket.

“Ignore it,” Cyrus barks, nipping at my thigh.

Gripping my hips, he finally gives me what I want, licking, sucking, scratching his teeth against me in a way that drivesme wild. Then he gives me long steady flat licks, lapping like I’m an ice cream cone.

A phone rings, and Cyrus grabs it from his back pocket and hurls it across the room with a growl.

---