Page 117 of Red Dragon
Wingbeats sounded as Agrevlari flew toward Wreylith’s perch on the platform atop the pillar. She bared her fangs at him and growled, but he still dared land opposite her, a few pebbles falling over the edge as his weight settled. He growled back, but it didn’t sound that threatening. It also didn’t soundthreatened, though the dragon had heretofore given her a wide berth when she’d glared at him.
“There’s something about this canyon,” Syla decided, her gaze shifting toward the rabbits and then the cactus flowers.
“Magic,” Vorik said. “You can sense it too.”
“Yes, but I don’t know what it does. If it’s dangerous or… I don’t know.”
“If this is the entrance to one of the storm god’s laboratories, I would expect danger.”
“Yes. We’d better figure out how to get in and out as quickly as possible.” Syla tried to extract her hand from Vorik’s grip.
For a moment, his fingers tightened, keeping her palm against his chest. His eyes flared with lust, as if he wanted to push her down onto the path and take her, the threat of thorns be damned.
But he swallowed, released her, and nodded tensely toward the pillar. When Syla walked in that direction, he stayed close,and she could feel the heat from his body even more than that from the sun. She eyed one of the orange cactus flowers. Was their heady scent growing stronger as they approached the pillar?
Her body remained aware of Vorik, and she envisioned pushinghimagainst the ancient rock. She could tug off his tunic and trousers and climb atop him, legs spreading so that she could ride him as he held her up, roaring and plunging into her.
Syla gulped and pushed aside the sexual thoughts. She almost ran the last few steps to the pillar and the runes, stepping into the shadow from the overhanging platform above. A green dragon tail dangled over the edge, and growls—it sounded like a whole conversation of them—floated down.
She set her pack and the amphora down to study the pillar. Most of the runes carved into the rock meant nothing to her, and she didn’t know if human hands had made them or if the storm god himself had marked the surface, but her gaze snagged on a dragon carving so similar to the one on the back of Vorik’s hand that it was startling. At some point, a mark identical to the quarter moon onherhand had been engraved atop it. Or had it been there first? And then some blasphemous dragon rider had put his or her sign over it? No, the dragons had been some of the storm god’s creations. It made more sense that a pillar outside his laboratory would have one of their kind on it. Maybe it had been one ofherancestors who’d come through and placed the moon-mark. Or could the gods themselves have done it? The earth, moon, or sun? After all, the scroll had described this place, promising that a moon-mark would be required to gain access.
Vorik stepped close behind Syla and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into him as he nuzzled the back of her head. Delicious sensations swept through her body, her nipples tightening with eagerness, with the desire for him to pull offher clothes and stroke her with his fingers… his mouth… his tongue…
“It’s the flowers,” she blurted with abrupt enlightenment.
“I think so too,” Vorik agreed, his voice even huskier than before.
He didn’t sound surprised. Maybe he’d figured it out right away.
Even if he had, that didn’t keep him from lowering his mouth to the side of her throat and inhaling deeply as he slid his tongue out to taste her. She caught herself leaning into him, her head falling back. One of his hands came up to cup her breast, stroking her deliciously.
“We shouldn’t.” Syla managed to keep her gaze on the runes carved into the stone. The quarter moon and the dragon.
“No,” Vorik agreed, then slid his hand from her breast, down her abdomen, and between her legs.
She gasped, startled but instantly aroused. Pleasure ricocheted through her as he rubbed her evocatively through her clothes. Oh, how she wanted to yank those clothes off, but that would only make it easier to do something foolish. Instead, she leaned toward the pillar, as much as she could with Vorik’s arms around her, and pressed her hand against the moon mark.
Maybe if her magic opened a secret passage and they slipped inside, they would escape the pervasive scent of the flowers. Then their libidos could calm down. Inasmuch as they ever did. Her body was always so eager for Vorik’s touch. Even knowing they were being magically manipulated, she couldn’t help but squirm, not trying to move her lower half from his touch as she planted her palm on the cool stone. A tingle of magic flowed from the pillar and into her hand.
Vorik stepped closer, pressing her against the rock formation as he pressed himself against her. She could feel his hard cock through their clothes, rigid with need for her. His expert fingers,far more deft at pleasuring her than she’d ever been with herself, kept rubbing her, stroking her, making her long for him. Even as she watched the moon-mark on the pillar for a reaction, she pushed and arched into Vorik, so aroused that she struggled to focus. And was she panting? Vorik’s breathing was heavy, too, as he rocked into her from behind, excited by her movements, her eagerness for his touch. Would he bring her to a climax without taking any of her clothes off? Here with their comrades watching?
Despite the tingle against her palm, nothing happened. No trapdoors opened, nor did magic flare or promise that anything besides an old pillar was here in the middle of the desert canyon.
“Maybeyouneed to touch it,” Syla whispered, marshaling all her self-control to keep some focus on the mission when all she wanted was to turn around and give Vorik full access to herself. She longed to kiss and rub him, inviting him to plunge into her, to satisfy her like only he could.
“Yes,” Vorik agreed and pulled off his gloves, dropping them in the dust alongside his sword scabbard, but instead of reaching for the pillar, he slid her underwear down.
“Notthat,” Syla gasped as his fingers delved into her. She cried out at the heightened stimulation, the exquisite pleasure. “The dragon,” she managed to get out.
“You likethis.” Vorik sounded smug and aroused all at once, pushing into her from behind as he stroked her from the front. His teeth grazed her throat, nipping and teasing her from another direction.
Syla groaned, driven to distraction, and struggled to articulate herself.
“Yes,” she rasped even as he brought her closer and closer to a climax. “But I’m afraid it’s a trap.”
“If it is, I’ll protect you. Always.” Vorik almost snarled the words. “You’remine.”
She wasn’t, but she nodded eagerly. Shewantedto be his. This was amazing.Hewas amazing.
