Page 20 of Drawn By Dragonblood
Forget the six-pack I sported—his was a fucking eight. The rippled muscles disappeared beneath his waistband with a hint of dark hair leading southward. A large-as-fuck bulge filled those damn shorts, and I swallowed against the rush of lust swarming me. My asshole should have clenched not relaxed with the need to be stretched.
What the actual fuck?
I closed my eyes and gripped the metal in my hands, a simple contraction of my upper body muscles pulling me upward. A few reps cleared my head a bit and kept me from tenting my shorts, and even though my eyes remained closed, the heat from Elijah’s stare seared my skin.
I had to face the truth. My brow furrowed as the reps became tougher. I was thoroughly sexually attracted to a man and had to get the fuck over it…it was no big deal. Dakota and I would be gone tomorrow, back to our non-cushy little life and never see him again.
Why did that idea make my gut clench?
I lowered my body, the cool rock meeting my bare feet.
Elijah hadn’t moved from the bench, but his bulge had swelled and lengthened.
Averting my eyes as though they burned, I fought for something to say, anything to break the need-to-fuck tension flooding the room. “I had a dragon as an imaginary friend when I was a kid,” I blurted the first nonsexual thought I had.
“What did he look like?” Elijah asked the question as though the beast had been a real being rather than make-believe.
“He was huge and black as midnight. Pale eyes.” I tightened my grip on the bar and, unable to help myself, glanced over at Elijah while shifting from foot to foot.
He studied me until I stilled as realization settled in. His eyes were a blue so pale, so damn familiar that goose bumps broke across my arms.
“I think I need another beer,” I muttered and forced my feet to move toward the door.
“Don’t go.” His quiet command pulled me up short, but I didn’t turn.
Couldn’t.
Elijah released a slow exhale. “It’s…nice having someone share this space with me.”
Not exactly what I’d expected—or hoped? I turned, an eyebrow lifted. “No roommates or family?” I asked the question my usually cautious self should have done hours ago.
Elijah shook his head and turned away from me to grab a towel off the floor. I tried like hell not to stare as he wiped his face and chest free of droplets of sweat that my tongue lusted to taste. “No,” he finally answered me, wrapping the towel around the back of his neck, fisting the ends in his massive hands.
Hands I wanted on my body. Mapping every inch, tying me up, and taking what he wanted.
Goddamn.
I cleared my throat, fighting off a boner again. “How long have you been alone?”
“What seems like an eternity.” His lopsided smile didn’t reach his eyes as he stood. “Would you like a turn?” he asked, motioning toward the bench. “I find that physical exertion does wonders for restlessness.”
Maybe pumping some iron would help. “Why the fuck not—but you need some serious tunes going on in here if I’m going to hang out in your dungeon.”
I swore a growl echoed through the cavernous room, and my heart tripped.
Elijah’s chuckle sounded forced. “What is your preference?”
With a dominant man like him? Bottoming, no fucking doubt.
I swallowed hard at the needy ache in my asshole before clearing my throat. “How about some heavy metal?”
Elijah grimaced but asked his genie in the hidden speakers to play what I’d suggested.
Chapter 7
Dakota
I clutched the spines of a dark dragon as we soared through the air, the wind whipping my hair behind me. Rather than laughter bursting past my lips, I moaned, every shift of my hips rubbing my bare pussy and clit against warm scales. Riding the beast took me to the edge of a climax that would pitch me so far into oblivion I fought against my impending doom.
