Page 9 of Dragons' Bride
"The breakfast part is correct," says Tavias, inviting himself inside. Clearly, my cabin door is no more a barrier to the males than it is to air. "As is the description of timetables. Clothes, however, will not be necessary this morning."
"Your pardon, sir?" Nora has schooled her bubbly personality to utter professionalism in an eyeblink's time.
"The royal family is having a private breakfast this morning,” Tavias answers with a nonchalance to equal Nora's. “Lady Kitterny is invited to attend naked."
My eyes widen.
Tavias looks toward me then, his expression turning absolutely predatory. “Don’t be late, wildcat. Or there might be more of what haunted your dreams so deliciously last night.”
5. QUINTON
The door to the dining cabin opened and Tavias herded Kit forward, her citrus and cinnamon scent taunting Quniton like it had done the entire time they were training together. He wasn’t sure which of them enjoyed the session less. Too close to call. Either way, Quinton was smart enough to know that the pack’s plan for the rest of the morning would go over better if he wasn’t around.
Tavias hadn’t given him a choice, though. Or a shirt.
Hauck and Cyril, similarly bare to the waist, sit around the breakfast table. Tavias had a tunic on, but that was a temporary measure to keep from stirring up more chaos amidst Dane’s crew than they had already. Once the door closed behind him and Kit, the purple silk came off in a smooth motion to reveal the pack leader’s wide chest. Though Tavias was the largest of the dragons, Quinton could reliably best him in single combat. Tavias was a trained general. Quinton was a trained killer.
As their father, Ettienne, had forged Quinton to be. There was nothing else left. He shook himself, trying to push the darkness from his mind. Sulking over the past wasn’t on the morning’s agenda. The human was.
Hauck thought Kit still doubted her place in the pack, and the rest of the morning was to be dedicated to getting the truth through her head. For however long they’d be together, the human was theirs. And they were hers. For better or worse.
Kit took a few steps into the cabin and stopped, her fingers clutching her robe. She looked more vulnerable than she had in training that morning, which was so backwards that Quinton almost snorted. Stepping behind Kit, Tavias slid the robe off her shoulders, the silk falling to pool at her feet. Her bare skin caught the rays of sunlight streaming in through the round widow and the green specks in her hazel eyes sparkled as she took in the males before quickly averting her gaze. She really did look delicious when she was naked, the curls between her thighs tight with all manner of promises.
Quinton scented her anxiety, but there was an edge of arousal there, too. A mix of trust and fear that filled the cabin to the point of intoxication and made the predators inside them perk up and take notice. Cyril was already clutching the edge of the table with a white knuckled grip, and the laces at the front of Hauck’s trousers strained to the breaking point. His brothers’ primal need to claim Kitterny and rut with her was thick enough to choke on, and Quinton would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was not far behind. Even Tavias was all but trembling to keep himself under control.
The only one who seemed unaware of the room’s raging pheromones was Kit. She was too busy trying to cover her breasts with her hands. Hauck was right, she was confused. The human should have been preening at the attention. Instead, she looked so nervous and uncertain that everything inside Quinton ached to pounce and shake the human free of her own thoughts.
As if he was one to talk.
Still standing behind her, Tavias poured rose scented oil onto his palms and stroked his hands along Kit’s neck and sides, her breasts perking up at his touch. Kit took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. The oil was making her already glowing skin glisten provocatively.
Stars take him, Quinton knew exactly how Kit’s body felt. How it moved. How easily it hurt. His cock wanted nothing more than to examine the brown curls that covered her sex and he longed to lick the beads of moisture and arousal that clung to them like dew. The rest of him couldn't look past the large purple bruise that hugged Kit's right elbow from when she'd lost her balance on the shifting deck, and the left wrist that had come a great deal closer to getting broken than Kit knew.
Tavias reached around to smooth oil along Kit’s ribs, and Quinton growled in displeasure. A bruise had not yet formed there, but would soon. All because she’d failed to follow his instructions earlier. More than once.
The anger that had filled Quinton earlier this morning now washed over him again. He’d made her pay for the errors savagely, throwing her all about the deck and forcing her through sprints and jumps until her lungs burned so badly that she could do nothing but stand on all fours and heave. Kit thought he was just being an asshole – she didn’t understand how rutting much she'd scared him every time she failed to tuck her head, or tried to break her fall with her hands, or ignored another detail that was there to keep her neck from breaking. Whether she understood the why of it or not, Quinton made sure she got the message about consequences each time it was needed. He knew from personal experience how effective a memory aid with consequences was.
Quinton’s gut twisted in self-loathing and jealousy as he watched Tavias rub oil along Kit’s body and aching muscles, waking her to his touch. Watched her lean into his caress as subconsciously as she'd flinched away from Quinton’s holds. Tavias saw the bruises as well as Quinton did, but he could gentle his hands and stroke around them. Quinton couldn't stop remembering how each and every one of them came about.
Tavias's touch was healing. His was… the opposite.
Tavias brushed his thumbs over Kit's nipples and the already bunched flesh tightened further into thick suckable buds that were made for suckling. Hauck seemed to be of a similar mind, and was now stalking up to the human. Cupping Kit’s breasts, Hauck waited for her to open her eyes before he slipped one orb into his mouth and sucked deeply.
Kit let out the most delicious moan Quinton had ever heard. So different from the sounds of pain he’d made her sing earlier.
Then Cyril was there too, crouching to run his palms along the inside of Kit's thighs. The slick arousal dripped from her perfuming the air, and made Cyril's fingers glisten.
"You are beautiful," Cyril told her in that voice that could make an entire army bend a knee and listen.
"You are delicious," said Hauck, pulling away from her breasts, his eyes closed as he savored the girl.
"You drive me from all common sense." Tavias brushed his cheek over her neck, where her pulse beat so vividly that it made her delicate skin vibrate.
Quinton crossed his arms over his chest. It was his turn to say something and the expectation was choking. "You need to tuck your chin to your chest when you fall," he said. "Unless you enjoy cracking your skull."
Kit blinked.
Hauck turned his head toward his brother. "Right, Quinton. That was good for what you were doing earlier. Can you try again given the current ongoing festivities?"
