Page 29 of Wings of Frost and Fury
Once we’re in the cottage, I shake off his hand and point to a chair. “Sit, dragon.”
He sits clumsily, looking around the room. The cottage is small, so this front room serves as both the kitchen and the main living space. There’s also a tiny bedroom, a privy, and an attic. Definitely not palatial by any means, and a far cry from the luxury in which I was raised.
“Stay in that chair until I come back,” I tell Ashvelon. “I don’t want you falling over and hurting yourself.”
He nods, though judging by the way he stretches out his legs, he’s adapting to them more quickly than I imagined. I toss my bag onto a bench and pull down the ladder from the ceiling, opening the way to the attic.
When I began renting this cottage, I discovered a few things in the attic, including a chest of old clothes belonging to the owners. I’ve added my own possessions to the little hoard in the space above the rafters, including some clothes left behind by the assortment of men I’ve allowed into my bed over the course of my residence near Devil’s Kiss—Arnett’s valet among them.
Among the clothing, I find a pair of black pants that should fit Ashvelon, along with a blue vest that will give him a little more coverage while still permitting me a view of his cobblestone abs and his strong arms.
“I found you some clothes,” I say as I climb down the ladder to the front room. “I can help you put them on.”
Ashvelon doesn’t reply, and when I turn around, I see him running his fingers along his cock. In the few minutes I was gone, he’s been experimenting, and he’s learning quickly.
“Stop,” I say.
He snatches his hand away and looks at me guiltily, like a pet caught misbehaving. His naughty expression gives me a subtle thrill.
I love power. I always have, even during the long years when I would barely let myself use or acknowledge mine. As my confidence in my magic has grown, so has my love for other kinds of power—specifically power over men.
A man who will let me dominate him, who truly adores being ruled, is surprisingly difficult to find. The best kind of submissive is someone who is strong in many areas, yet has felt obligated to hide his few weaknesses, forced to endure shame and guilt over his secret desires. When a man like that finally gets to yield control and relinquish his strength, it’s a relief so exquisite that it’s erotic for him.
Ashvelon is exactly the right type. I know he’s a trusted member of his clan because the dragon prince assigned him the task of capturing or recruiting me. He’s also a subordinate, so he’s used to following commands. Rather than unsettling his core sense of self, obedience gives him security.
When he’s following the Prince’s orders, he still has to meet expectations, make decisions, and adhere to the laws of his kind. But with me, he doesn’t have to maintain any pretense of control over the situation. He’s far away from his clan, their expectations, and their judgment. He has just one decision left to make—whether or not to obey me.
I pace slowly forward. “What were you doing?”
“I was…” He swallows and glances away.
“Look at me.” I step in front of him, lightly lifting his chin with my fingertips. “Tell me what you were doing.”
“Touching my cock. It felt good.”
“You want to pursue those good feelings and see where they lead, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he mutters. “But I shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t.” I view him with hooded eyes. “What if someone gave you permission, darling? Would you feel less guilty?”
He’s struggling, warring within himself. “What are we doing, enchantress? Shouldn’t we be discussing my prince’s request, that you return with me to Ouroskelle?”
I let purple sparks of magic dance over my fingers, against his skin. He flinches at the sting, but he doesn’t try to pull away. “We’re building trust between us, pet. We’re learning about each other. Only then can we forge a truly beneficial alliance. I need to understand what you dragons are like and explore what we share. Our common experience. Our mutual desires.”
“I desire you,” he says bluntly. “This body you made—it craves union with yours. Is that because of your magic?”
“No!” I exclaim. “I would never force you to feel something that wasn’t already there. My spell simply gave you human flesh. It didn’t change who you are inside.” I hold out the clothes. “You should put these on, otherwise I will be tempted to do things with you that I shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t?” A cunning light enters his eyes, and he smirks a little. “What if someone gave you permission?”
“Naughty dragon, using my own words against me.” I bite my lip to keep from smiling at him. “I shouldn’t because you’re new to this form. Inexperienced. Practically a virgin.”
He gets to his feet with the help of the nearby table and faces me. “I’m not inexperienced. Like I told you, I’ve been through a mating season before. I’ve spilled my seed inside many females.”
“As a dragon, not a man.” I shove the clothes at his chest. When he grasps them, I walk swiftly away, toward the kitchen area. There’s a cup on the sideboard that I covered with a small plate to keep out any stray flies. I remove the plate and lift the cup to my lips.
“What is that?” he asks.
