Page 21 of Dragons' Mate
“How?” Kit asked. “Beyond the wholecaring is a sign of weakness, how is it actually a material matter?”
Cyril glowered at Quinton, who’d clearly not bothered to explain the basics.
Hauck cleared his throat. “You see—”
“Last time I saw you, Hauck was half way up your skirt at the dinner table,” Ettienne told Kit frankly. “Do you know why he keeps away now?”
“Because he’s a prick?”
Hauck chortled.
Ettienne did not. “Because he knows that his scent on you might send Quinton into a murderous frenzy.”
Kit’s eyes and mouth widened together. “Oh.”
“As I said,” Ettienne said. “You all should figure that part out before there is no one left in the pack for Geoffrey to kill.” He pulled a small satchel from his pocket and thrust it into Kit’s hands. “There is a vial of Dragon Tears in here. Tend to the shadow before you head out.”
With a final glower, Ettienne turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake. No one moved. No one dared to even breathe too deeply. No one except Kit.
“Is he right?” she demanded of Quinton. “Are you going to lose your rutting mind when I go too near them?”
Quinton swallowed. “I don’t know.”
A bell chimed, making Cyril acutely aware of the time.
Kit drew a long breath and let it out. “One way to find out.” Before anyone could stop her, Kit strode up to Hauck and pressed her mouth over his.
CHAPTER10
Quinton
Quinton had been prepared. Both the punishment he'd known would be coming, and for this moment, when his mate would touch his brothers with the kind of desire that she reserved for them alone. He’d known both would be hard to endure, and he’d steeled himself for the pain. He’d been prepared.
At least he thought he had.
Now, seeing Kit's mouth cover Hauck's with the kind of passion she would never have for Quinton, he was realizing how short his preparations had fallen. His bond with Kit had been forced. The pull to rut she’d felt afterwards was all but involuntary. She’d touched Quinton because magic made her do so. But Hauck, Kit kissed him because she wanted to.
And it hurt. So much so that the physical pain of his lashed back felt like a lifeline.
Yet, Quinton couldn’t look away either. His cock gave a pulsating squeeze as Kit’s mouth covered Hauck’s, her fingers sliding with sinful delight through his mop of red hair before trailing along his scales.
Hauck let out a moan of approval, the scales shifting to indulgent emerald hues beneath Kit’s touch.
Kit deepened her kiss. Her ripped dress had slipped several inches down her shoulders, allowing Hauck’s fingers full access to her tattooed back. Hauck took the invitation, trailing his calloused fingers along the column of Kit’s spine.
Quinton knew exactly how that smooth soft skin felt, and the fact that it wasn’thishand brushing Kit’s body… it was hard.
Quinton swayed slightly, moving his feet farther apart to keep his balance. He'd expected to be angry. Furious on a primal level. Ready to rip Hauck and the others limb from limb for looking—much less touching—his mate. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if it had been any male other than his brother touching Kit, that male would not draw his next breath. But with Hauck there, Quinton felt different.
Desperate to join. Aroused. Envious.
Coming up from behind Kit, Tavias ran his palms over her curves. She moaned with pleasure, arching herself back against his obvious hardness, even as her mouth remained on Hauck’s. Tavias grunted in approval and buried his nose in Kit’s thick hair, making Quinton too aware of her cinnamon and citrus scent even from across the room.
“You’ve not tried to rip anyone’s limbs off yet,” Cyril said from beside him. The dragon had his sword out but pointed to the floor, his body bladed between Quinton and the sensual reunion playing itself out just paces away. A wise precaution, through unnecessary. Even if Quinton wanted to attack, he was in no shape to do so with any effectiveness. Maybe that too was part of Ettienne’s plan.
Kit made another sound of pleasure and Quinton’s cock jerked again, making him see stars from the building pressure. Both in his cock and in his soul.
“Quinton?” Cyril was speaking again. Possibly had been for a while. “Quinton look at me.”
