Page 95 of Worthy Promises
“Yes, but first, I must dampen our night a bit. What was bothering you when you came outside for our ceremony?”
With a sigh, Oliver grabbed the other potion bottle and headed to the coffee table where there was indeed a bottle of champagne chilling and two tall pink-and-white flutes. “Orion is worried. Apparently, Zarasha has been uncharacteristically clumsy of late, and somehow, she’s torn two dresses. The seams popped, and she cried. Perhaps like she’s outgrowing them, which is impossible.”
Worth frowned. “She tripped at our ceremony. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her do anything less than graceful. But how could anything be wrong with her? If she was ill or anything, the sorcerers would sense it. Especially Daravius; he’s connected to her. Xak is too, but he, of course, doesn’t use his magic.”
“Do you think Sorcery D’Vaire would be offended if we brought it to their attention? I don’t want to insult them by bringing it up as if somehow they missed it.”
“Since magic is beyond my ability to fully comprehend, we can’t figure out what’s wrong with her. I can’t imagine anyone in Sorcery D’Vaire being annoyed with us. Zarasha is upset; we must fix it if possible.”
“Okay, good. We have a plan,” Oliver said, walking back toward the bed and handing Worth a filled glass. “Now, I suggest we focus on us and completing our matebond.”
A giant dragon roar filled Worth’s head, and he grinned. “Shall we make a toast?”
“I have a simple one. To you, me, and forever.”
“I love you, Owlie,” Worth commented as they clinked their flutes together. With no hesitation, Worth gulped every drop of champagne in his glass.
Oliver laughed. “Thirsty?”
“More horny than thirsty.” Worth was no expert on aphrodisiacs, and it was likely too soon for the potion to beworking. But his belly was already warm with desire, and his cock was plumping nicely in the jeans he’d changed into after their ceremony.
Of course, Oliver was a gorgeous temptation, and it took zero effort from his mate to make Worth ready to strip. Eager to give in to his dragon’s craving to bite Oliver, Worth stood and set his glass on the nightstand. He plucked the lube from the drawer and placed it next to a framed picture of him with his other half.
Then Worth flicked open the first button of his shirt as he sat again. His eyes met Oliver’s, and he grinned at him as the owl shifter leisurely sipped his champagne. Fully prepared to give Oliver all the time he wanted to appreciate the enormity of their night and to drag out the anticipation, Worth kept their gazes locked as he stripped off his top.
It was impossible for him to ignore the new artwork on his upper arm, and he rubbed a hand across the perfect replica of Oliver’s owl on his skin.
“This is my favorite part of me,” Worth said.
“Me and my owl love it on you.”
Although it’d be lovely to focus on his mating mark, Worth wanted the two threads of their souls that had tentatively reached for each other that afternoon to be wrapped fully together. His knuckles brushed his own hardened cock as he unfastened his jeans. It wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world, but Worth took a moment to yank off his shoes and socks.
He stood and pushed off his pants and underwear in one fell swoop. Heedless of the pile of throw pillows, Worth climbed on the mattress and lifted his arms above his head as he writhed a bit to get comfortable. The blood was thumping in his veins, and his dick was curled toward his belly.
“There is no one else in any realm as beautiful and sexy as you are,” Oliver said.
“Come touch me.”
Oliver strode over and set his now-empty flute next to Worth’s on the nightstand. After taking a seat near Worth, Oliver ditched his footwear and socks. Worth scooted closer to tackle the pesky buttons of Oliver’s shirt. What Worth needed most in that moment was a naked Oliver. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as Worth wrenched the damn fabric out of the way.
With no complaint about the damage to his clothing, Oliver yanked his shirt off and threw it. Worth didn’t bother to watch where the stupid thing landed. A growl ripped from his throat as Oliver stood. Distance wasn’t something he or his dragon wanted, but Worth’s irritation disappeared as Oliver quickly undid his belt.
Worth licked his lips as Oliver shucked his pants and boxers. His thick, veiny cock was red and deliciously hard. Worth’s hole clenched with a keenness to have Oliver buried in him before the night was done. Fervor like Worth had never known coursed through him as Oliver crawled onto the bed and over him.
A hiss escaped Worth as their skin touched. He was hot. Hot everywhere. Their lips met, and Worth eagerly opened for Oliver. Their tongues touched, and that was the last gentle thing Oliver did. Each kiss was voracious—almost harsh—but Worth loved it. His fingers dug into Oliver’s flesh, and they rolled from one side of the bed to the other.
Desperate for friction, Worth undulated against Oliver with increasing zeal. Unfortunately, his climax was no closer and Oliver stopped moving altogether. A narrowed pair of bright yellow eyes bored into Worth’s as Oliver tore his mouth free.
“Spread your legs, I’m going to fuck you,” Oliver growled.
Those words spoken in such a desperate, gravelly voice nearly sent Worth to the edge. Somehow, he kept it togetherenough to nod. Oliver rose to his knees and reached for the lube while Worth grabbed what few wits he had left to obey orders.
“Wider,” Oliver demanded, pointing in the general direction of Worth’s limbs as he uncapped the slick and dumped some out.
A weird tinge of anxiety crept through Worth, and he hoped he was finally in a position Oliver approved of.
“Good,” Oliver said in a gentler voice. “Now, don’t move.”
