Page 124 of Drawn By Dragonblood
Breathless, I licked at the wound I’d made in my wife’s neck as my dick finally shot its last bit of cum inside her.
Elijah shuddered, suckling on my skin, his tongue soothing until the burn beneath his mouth dissipated.
I’d found heaven, beyond any Elysium every fucking religion promised in the arms of my two lovers, my mates.
Yes.
I agreed with the voice inside my head even though I wasn’t sure whose it was. We’d found our place—our home.
Chapter 45
Dakota
I still felt like a limp noodle, but Jon insisted he couldn’t wait another minute to see Elijah in his true form. His childlike excitement tickled me, filling my heart with joy similar to the kind etched on his face and what I could sense rolling off him in waves through the intensified bond between our emotions.
Weak-kneed and barefoot, I followed both him and Elijah outside onto the veranda, the cool air licking at my still-heated skin. Elijah had cleaned Jon’s cum from between my thighs with his tongue, the salty musk of both my husband and I thick in my nose. He’d worked my clit to a second climax before greedily lapping up yet another orgasm from my slit.
Only then had he agreed to Jon’s insistence that our alpha show us his other half.
Naked, Elijah clutched my hand, strolling steadily after Jon who’d tugged back on his jeans and T-shirt. The late afternoon air didn’t seem to bother either men as they stopped near the edge Dolyn had tossed himself off of what felt days earlier but had only been hours.
Elijah lifted my hand to ghost his lips over my knuckles, his contentment flooding through me and brightening my smile that hadn’t dissipated since our full bonding. My facial muscles ached, but I didn’t complain. He tucked blonde strands of my hair flying in the breeze behind my ear. His eyes darkened as though he saw the explicit images from my dreams flashing in my head.
“Next time, mon coeur,” he murmured and winked, sending an eruption of butterflies through my belly. Turning, he glanced over Jon’s body, appreciation in his gaze. “I believe I’m going to fashion a saddle of sorts so I can strap you both to my back—tied down tight.”
“Fuuuuck,” Jon groaned and shuddered even though Elijah hadn’t suggested anything sexual in nature.
Arousal, thick and sweet, seeped between my thighs. I heaved a sigh, thrilled by the promise of all my fantasies that my men, my mates, would one day make come true.
“You’re wet as fuck,” Jon stated, his blue eyes bright in the sunlight falling on his face.
“At the thought of riding you while riding our alpha?” I almost giggled with glee. “Damned right I am.”
A low growl slipped from Elijah’s lips, silencing both of us.
The black of his pupils swirled. “Stand back, my loves,” he murmured.
Jon and I clasped hands, stepping away as we’d done when Elijah had climbed into his helicopter. But this time, there was no whine and roar of an engine, no slow whirling of blades whipping up wind.
Elijah stood on the veranda, eyes on us, the cliff at his back.
Silence settled except for the rustling of fallen leaves scattered over the stones separating us.
“Be careful,” I whispered as sudden fear flooded through me.
Jon clutched my hand tighter, concern matching mine radiating in our bond.
Warm assurance flooded through us from Elijah, even though we weren’t physically touching. It was going to take a while to get used to all the emotions that weren’t my own filling my chest. Regardless of their newness, a lack of discomfort in their appearance gave me hope for the days ahead.
“Don’t blink,” Elijah whispered.
He tipped backward, and a gasp ripped from my lungs as he disappeared from view over the cliff’s edge.
“Jesus—” Jon’s curse hissed away in the wind as a black scaled head appeared then shot higher as a flap of wings lifted Elijah’s true form directly into our sight. He hovered as our breath caught. Inky black scales rippled with shimmering color as though a rainbow imprinted over his bulk. Spikes lined his back, clear to the tip of his tail. Even the edges of his long, nearly translucent wings ended in sharp tips.
Another flap kept him from gravity’s pull and blasted us with air nearly as strong as his helicopter’s blades.
He was terror and beauty incarnate. A perfect blend of danger, deliciousness, and all ours.
