Page 118 of Red Dragon
Though she was panting and could barely form words, she gripped his hand. Not the one pleasuring her. She couldn’t bring herself to push that away. She wanted him to continue, but she also wanted…
“Here,” she rasped and turned his hand to press his tattoo against the dragon rune.
Another tingle of magic emanated from the pillar, and did a slight blue light flare from that mark? It hadn’t done that for her. But the scrolls hadn’t said anything about a dragon tattoo being needed. Soon, the light faded, and she didn’t know what else to try.
“Syla,” Vorik said, drawing his fingers away from her needy core.
She moaned a protest. Even though she’d been struggling to complete their mission, to get them out of a possibly dangerous situation, her body didn’t want him to stop.Shedidn’t want him to stop.
“Look at me,” Vorik commanded.
She turned, not wanting to disobey, not wanting to risk him leaving her unsatisfied.
A roar came from above, startling her, but not so much that she looked away from Vorik. He’d untied the strings fastening his tunic, leaving his chest bare, and he’d unfastened his trousers, leaving his cock free. It arrested her attention as it strained toward her, Vorik’s eyes burning with fiery lust.
She forgot all about the dragons as she stared at him, her hungry gaze riveted. She couldn’t look away from his sleek muscles, his beautiful taut flesh, and his penis, so huge and engorged and full of desire for her. He would never be able to fight with it hindering him. In case therewasdanger, sheneeded to sate him, to make sure he could move freely. For their safety. Yes. It made sense.
She dropped to her knees, pushing his trousers completely off his hips so she could grip him with her hands as she took his hard shaft into her mouth.
Vorik threw back his head and let out a triumphant roar, thrusting toward her, as his fists clenched at his sides. His response almost startled her, but she took him deep into her mouth, excited by how much her attention meant to him. It even stimulated her, and her core throbbed as she licked and sucked, relishing his taut texture, his scent. It was almost as arousing as when he’d been touching her, and she moved more quickly along his length, wanting to satisfy him but also eager for him to take her.
Another roar came from above, the platform creaking, a few pebbles sliding over the side. Vorik roared back.
Lost in her own desire, Syla forgot about everything but Vorik’s lust and hers as she took him in and out, eager to please him, to return the ecstasy that he’d given to her.
For the briefest of moments, it crossed her mind to wonder what Wreylith would think. She’d approved that Vorik had knelt to pleasure her, but now Syla was on her knees before him. But she couldn’t stop. She wanted to make him love being with her, to bring him such intense satisfaction that he wouldn’t want to return to his people, wouldn’t want a stormer woman. Oranyother woman.
“Syla,” Vorik groaned, his fingers threading into her hair.
Her spectacles shifted down her nose. She hurried to take them off so they wouldn’t hinder her further and she could return her grip to him. But before they left her eyes, she caught movement down the path. Fel and Teyla. She’d forgotten about them and expected them to be gawking. But Fel had moved behind Teyla, wrapping his arm around her and pulling hertrousers down, and she… she was rocking back into him, her magnifying glass in the dust as she moaned and matched his thrusts.
Itwasthe flowers. They were making everyone—and everything—lose their minds with lust.
Even knowing that, Syla couldn’t stop. If anything, the eroticism of having others mating around her made her more eager to give Vorik pleasure—and have him complete hers.
She took him in and out, fingers flexing around his ass, her own need building again. Roars came from above.Humanroars came from the path behind.
Vorik gripped Syla’s shoulders, lifting her from her knees and hiking up her dress. As they’d been in the cave for their first joining, he leaned her back against the rock. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him, wanting to mold herself to him and for him to—yes. His fingers found her, checking to make sure she was still ready, still slick with need, still throbbing for him.
“Please, Vorik,” she begged, wanting more than his fingers now, wanting that beautiful thick?—
“You aremine,” he said with lusty satisfaction, then plunged into her.
“Yes!” Syla arched into him as he thrust deep. “Vorik!” she cried as they rocked and rubbed, so aroused that their movements were frantic. The rock was hard against her back, but she didn’t care. Every moment she was joined with him was so intensely pleasurable that no discomfort could take away from it.
They writhed and rocked against the stone pillar, sweat glistening on their bodies, breaths ragged, and the other roars faded from her awareness. Soon, Syla heard only their own groans and pants and pleas for release as need and pleasure built and built. When they finally came, climaxing and crying out atthe same time, Syla flung her arms wide, baring her chest to Vorik, to the world. Her moon-mark landed on the runes, and Vorik caught her hand, his fingers twining with hers as their sweaty palms pressed together.
Blue light flared, much brighter than before. A brilliant flash came from beyond and all around the rock pillar, visible in Syla’s peripheral vision. It disappeared before she could look squarely at it, but a fainthumsounded briefly in the canyon behind them.
Panting, she clung to Vorik and didn’t want to part, but sanity crept back to her, and she worried again about traps.
“That… was unexpected.” Vorik kissed her but also extricated himself from her and glanced at his sword scabbard in the dust. He touched her shoulder and tugged up his trousers as he stepped aside to peer around the pillar.
Syla knelt and grabbed her spectacles. Creaks and thumps came from above, and more rocks tumbled over the edge of the platter.
Belatedly—very belatedly—Syla realized Agrevlari and Wreylith were mating. And Fel and Teyla… Syla almost didn’t want to look, but they’d finished and lay spent on the dusty path, Fel atop her. Judging from the way Teyla was trying to look all around and also giving a nearby cactus a scandalized look, she was coming to her senses and perhaps bewildered as to what had happened.
And the dragons… Syla peered up again. Only a red tail was visible, twitching rhythmically over the edge. She and Vorik were lucky that platter was firmly attached to the pillar, and the ancient formation was sturdy, or they might have been crushed when the whole thing collapsed.
