Page 8 of Dragon Rivals of New York

The music pounds a steady, drum-driven beat. Our hips sway, bodies moving fluidly. She’s water washing over stone, cleansing the stress of the day with the way she moves against me. Every cell wakes up. Alert to her touch, her movements, her little sighs barely audible over the loud music.

Around us, couples and small groups grind against each other,but they all keep a little distance, which might be because of Kyro standing a foot away, arms crossed, gaze dark, like he’s contemplating my murder. He doesn’t bother dancing, but he doesn’t leave us alone either.

Just to be irritating, I crook my finger at him. “Join us.”

As expected, he stays where he is. Fine with me. I’d prefer having Sora all to myself, anyway.

I spin her around, her back to my chest, and graze a hand across her flat stomach. She drops her head back on my shoulder, eyes closing as she loses herself to the rhythm of the music. I stare Kyro down as I work one hand up to her breast and the other down to cup her sex. She’s so caught up in the dance, in us, that she holds my wrist and moves my hand lower.

Kyro growls, nostrils flaring, a puff of hot smoke shrouding his face. His jaw clenches. He’s so tense he’s gonna give himself a heart attack. Not that I care. The unfriendly giant dropping dead would be rather helpful. He’s gonna have to get on board with sharing real fast if he wants this to work. Because I have no intention of letting my mate get away. The only way I’m going to give her up is if she demands I leave her alone—something she did a year ago. But I worked myself back into her life. And I’ll do it again. No matter how many times I have to.

Smirking at Kyro, I rub my palm between Sora’s legs. My mate lets out a whimpering moan.

In one step, Kyro’s on us. He grabs my wrists and rips my hands off of Sora, pinning them to my sides. There aren’t a lot of men who can manhandle me like this, but his hold is strong enough to keep me from lifting my arms, effectively locking me in place.

He leans over Sora’s shoulder so his lips are right at my ear. “Don’t. Touch.Mymate.”

His deep voice rattles through me.

“What are you going to do about it?” I reply, grinding my hips against Sora’s ass.

“Stop fighting.” Sora pushes against Kyro’s chest. “I don’t need you two making a scene right now. This is Finley’s bachelorette party, and we’re supposed to be having fun.”

Kyro doesn’t let me go. I don’t try to get away.

“Sorry, lovely.” I kiss the tender skin behind her ear. “We’ll behave, won’t we, Kyro?”

His claws dig into my wrists, a sharp pain, but he nods and grunts an affirmation.

“Let’s make our girl feel good, shall we?” I lock eyes with my nemesis, my rival, the man who shares my mate.

His brow wrinkles like he’s confused.

“Haven’t you ever made a woman come on the dance floor, Ky?”

Sora gulps in a breath. “You can’t—”

“Oh, but I can.” I suck on her exposed neck, pressing myself into her hard enough to send her hips right into Kyro. “If the giant here would just let go of my hands…?”

He jerks his hands away, almost like he didn’t realize he was still touching me until that moment.

“You once told me you want to experience everything you were told was forbidden,” I whisper in Sora’s ear, dragging my fingertips along the hem of her skirt.

Her head tilts up, and she looks at Kyro, who’s staring at her like she hung the stars. Yeah, he’s not lying about being her mate. His expression holds the same emotions I feel. It would be difficult to fake that kind of authenticity.

“Should I get you off while you’re in the arms of another man? While he dances with you? Kisses you? Would you like that, lovely? That would be an experience, wouldn’t it?”

She bites her lip. Kyro’s throat bobs as he swallows. Sora’s nod is almost imperceptible, like she’s afraid to admit what she wants. I pause, waiting for Kyro’s acknowledgement thathe’s okay with this. I may dislike the man, but if this is going to work, I’m damn well going to make sure we’re both okay with anything that happens right now.

“Is this what you want?” he asks, even though she’s already given me her consent. “Use your words.”

I might like him just a little more for checking in with her again and making her say what she needs.

Her nod is slow, but definitive. “Yes.”

His jaw ticks when he looks at me, and he dips his chin.

I don’t hesitate before undoing the button on her skirt and sliding my hand back and forth along the top of her panties. She’s standing close enough to Kyro that my knuckles graze his hard length. He hisses and moves back an inch, but stays close enough to block us from view.

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