Page 31 of Wings of Frost and Fury
He laughs softly, taking my wrist with careful fingers and pulling my hand to the center of his chest. “Your magic makes you more powerful. You could stop my heart if you wanted to.I’m well aware that you don’t have to accompany me anywhere, enchantress. My life has been in your hands from the moment I landed in that meadow. The interaction between us is either your kindness and mercy, or a cruel game.”
“Which do you think it is?”
His cocks his head, his lashes lowering. “I don’t care.”
I lunge forward and kiss him, more deeply this time. He lets me invade his mouth, and he sweeps his tongue through mine with an excited caution that awakens a warm, vibrant glee in my heart. I’m not laughing aloud, but the laughter is alight in my chest, a joy I haven’t felt in ages.
He’s so enthralled with kissing me that I have to physically push him back. He lets me do it, but the fierce glow in his eyes tells me he’s not done with my lips yet.
“You’ve learned to kiss,” I say. “Now it’s time for an education in female bodies.”
I slide away from him and hop down from my perch. I’m wearing one of my favorite outfits for a hot day—a cropped silk shirt that supports my breasts but leaves my midriff bare, and a pair of silk panties attached to a wrap skirt that opens in the front. I shimmy the skirt and panties off, then pull the shirt over my head.
Ashvelon watches me undress, shocked and entranced.
“Humans without armor always looked so small to me,” he admits. “They looked squishy, like mushrooms. But today, when I saw you on the bench, you didn’t look like that. You looked… alone.”
I force a laugh and grab the cup of wine, taking a swallow.
“Then in the stable,” he continues, “you were graceful, powerful. Strong.”
“And now?” I move closer to him.
“Exquisite. Desirable. Irresistible.” He licks his lips, and his cock bobs a little. “May I touch you?”
“You may—with one hand.” I run my fingers through the blond waves that brush his broad shoulders. “Put the other hand around your cock. Don’t stroke it until I say you can. Just hold it.”
Ashvelon’s fingers curl around his length, and he groans at the contact.
“Does it feel good, pet?”
“I think I might die from how good it feels,” he confesses.
“I’m glad. But your task here is to please me,” I tell him. “Your pleasure is secondary.”
“Yes,” he agrees fervently. “Where would you like to be touched?”
The question is a surprise. I expected him to choose where to begin. The fact that heaskedis one more sign that he’s just the kind of man I’ve been wanting to play with.
Who could have predicted I would find him in adragon?
8
The sorceress asks me to touch her neck first. I think she liked it when I stroked her there before. Every few moments, she guides my hand to a new place and tells me the human name for that part of her body. Collarbone, shoulder, breast. Bellybutton, where I spotted that shining little jewel earlier. Apparently it is embedded in her flesh. A piercing, she calls it—a tiny hole through which to insert decorations for her body, like the gold hoops and jeweled studs she wears in her ears.
I’m familiar with certain types of human piercings. The Vohrainian nobility pierce their noses and wear different jewels in their septum rings to indicate their rank.
I like Thelise’s nose just as it is.
Her breasts intrigue me. They are intended for nursing young, and yet their size and fullness are appealing to me, a grown male, in a way I’ve never experienced. I like their round shape, and the dark brown bits she callsnipples, which become harder and more pointed the longer I play with them. Her lashesdroop and her breath turns quick and shallow as I softly squeeze one breast, then the other. Her scent blooms richer and sweeter than ever.
My cock grows harder in response. It burns hot in my hand, and it’s all I can do not to stroke it. My body craves friction there, along that sensitive length.
But instead of indulging myself, I focus on the enchantress’s full breasts and the way they squish beautifully under my fingers.
“Female dragons do not have these. They don’t produce milk,” I say. “We masticate food for the hatchlings and put the softened material into their mouths.”
Thelise’s nose wrinkles. “Don’t talk about masticating food for hatchlings while we’re doing sexual things, I beg you. No, I don’t beg—Icommandit.”
