Page 63 of Bound to the Orc King

“They already know where it is,” I say. Or at least, one of them does. I don’t understand. Why hasn’t the shadow fae returned yet? My premonition magic assures me I’ll see him again.

But it seems it will not be today. I put away my sword and gesture for my guards to do so as well.

“Where are we?” Lukendevener tucks his wings to his back and does a slow spin, taking in the glen. “Where’s Sheevora the Magnificent?”

“Put on some clothes, and we’ll talk,” I growl. This is one dragon I feel no need to practice my hard-won diplomacy on. “No one needs to see your cocks.”

May snorts with laughter and raises her hand. “I kinda do.”

The mate bond twangs in my chest, and a feral possessiveness overwhelms me. I grab my bride’s hand and spin her toward me, lifting her into my arms. My mouth crashes over hers, and I nip at her lips with my tusks until she opens for me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

May

The passion of Aldronn’s kiss sears everything else from my mind. Who cares if the dragon has two dicks? My guy also has two, and one of them vibrates!

I moan, my tongue tangling with his. My hands fist in his long hair, pulling him closer. All the teasing I’ve done since I heard his blow-job thoughts has teased me, too. My new panties are already soaked.

A slow clap rings through the glen, far louder than the waterfall, which has become background noise from being around it for so long.

We jerk apart to find the dragon—now wearing the linen equivalent of gray sweatpants—staring at us with a sardonic expression on his handsome face, his hands slapping together in sarcastic slow motion.

Fuck me sideways! And here I thought Aldronn could be arrogant. Hah! This guy takes it to whole new levels—the cock of his eyebrow, the slight sneer that uncovers one fang—he’s a master at haughtiness.

Lukendevener drops his hands. “Are you quite through?”

“Nope!” I turn back to Aldronn and wiggle in his grip, brushing against his erection with my thigh. Fuck, he’s so hard my core clenches.

He growls and kisses me again, sharp and hot and far too quickly. When he sets me down, I cling to his arms for a moment, my knees gone weak, and he flashes me his wicked, knowing smirk.

I bite my lower lip, sucking the plumpness into my mouth to wet it thoroughly before letting it go.

Aldronn groans, his fingertips digging into my shoulders.

“By the goddess, are they always like this?” Lukendevener asks.

Aldronn’s head whips around. “Just wait until you find your mate. Then we’ll see how you react.”

“I’ve met every dragon in Alarria and Duralia. I don’t have a mate.”

Aldronn huffs with amusement, and I wonder what his premonition magic has told him. Then he grows serious. “Tell us what you learned in Avalon.”

“I ask again. Where is Sheevora?”

“We’ll meet with her this evening.”

“Then my news must wait. I cannot tell you before I tell my own queen.”

That muscle in Aldronn’s jaw jumps, but he nods. “The others of our party are off hunting. If you wish to join them…” He gestures toward the woods.

“No, wait.” A thought strikes me. “I keep hearing that dragons are scholars. Are you one, too?”

“Of course I am.” Lukendevener looks affronted. “I’ll have you know I’m the realm’s foremost expert on several subjects.”

“Great.” Excitement rocks me forward onto the balls of my feet. “What can you tell me about reading minds?”

Ten minutes later, Aldronn and Lukendevener sit at the other two points of a triangle, all of us facing inward toward each other, so close our knees almost touch.

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