Page 43 of Bartender Mate

The bathroom was as confined and humble as she’d warned it would be. Its ceiling hung low, meaning the tips of my horned ridgelines beneath my hair only just missed the paneled wood which enclosed the space. I was lucky that the illumination came from wall sconces and not from a hanging fixture. I was bound to knock one of those right out of the ceiling should I’ve been invited to my mate’s inner sanctum for a nighttime rendezvous.

I studied the odd plumbing that came out of the floor and hung precariously over a small but elaborate bathing tub. Reaching out to twist the knobs one way and then the other, I was met with a blast of ice cold water directly in my face. Spluttering and cursing, my erection which had been standing in aching need since I had shifted, flagged under the unpleasant assault.

“Damned pipes won’t dissuade me from my goals,” I grumbled under my breath, leaning down and taking a good look at the knobs.

One had a little middle piece with a human letter on it–‘H,’ hopefully short for hot–and a red ring around the outside. I turned that one, careful to be out of the way of the shower head. Slowly, as I waited with my hand on my cock, steam began to drift up from the water, filling the air with a pleasant humidity that filled my lungs.

With a little more fenangling, I managed to get the foreign plumbing to omit a refreshing temperature and stepped in.

My claws slipped on the glossy tub bottom, but I soon adapted to its slick surface. I wasn’t unfamiliar with keeping my feet under me on the ice, though it was a curious choice of surface in a unit which was meant to be stood on while wet.

Tess had been right. This shower was indeed a welcome necessity before I lost myself in Radon’s muscular frame. The warm slide of beating water on my scales was glorious, even if I had to duck to get fully under the steady stream. Washing away the sweat and blood from a day that had been filled with too much of both was a relief. My shoulders relaxed as I scrubbed my body with the musky soap found on a shelf, just within reach, making sure to get every bit of the dried blood from my body before I twisted the knobs again to shut off the water supply.

By the time I returned to the bedroom, Tess was framed beautifully in the doorway, seated on a chair in the corner of her room, a mug of tea steaming in her hand, and her hooded gaze on Radon who stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, still fully clothed.

“Are we reluctant to come to our mate’s aid, Radon?” I asked teasingly, but the duo didn’t even blink from their staredown. “Or is this an offer for my beast to unwrap his prize?” I squeezed the last bit of water from my hair, and left the towel hanging on the hook on the back of the door. “I do so love to unwrap you, mate.”

When I hummed in Radon’s ear, I could feel the shift of interest in him, but it wasn’t even remotely visible on the surface. My guarded, beautifully broken mate. Still clinging to his independence as fiercely as our fourth. What a pretty disjointed painting we all made. I looked forward to the day I had earned my female’s trust enough to break out my paints and flesh out her truth on a canvas, too.

“Maybe this isn’t…” Radon started.

“They’re stunning together,” Quasar broke in. The thought, most like a prayer, fell from his lips on a soft sigh, not meant for either of us. He sat so silently at Tess’s feet, in fact, that I hadn’t even noticed him there. He still looked a little pale, his purple barely warm enough to be seen in the darkened room, filled with the silvery fullness of Earth’s single moon. His tail was wrapped tight around Tess’s ankle, but our fourth didn’t look bothered at the possessive curl. My heart squeezed at this small allowance she’d given him, not knowing how much the reassurance would’ve meant to Quasar in his fragile state. “It’s like magic watching them move. Erotic magic.”

“Sex magic?” Tess snorted, and it brought a wry smile to my lips. She lifted a stern eyebrow in my direction. “Tell me that’s not a thing.”

I snorted at her incredulous tone–like sex magic was just a step too far–and crossed the room to my stubborn mate whose fists were still balled. Even now, it looked like Radon was considering fighting me for the pleasure of who would be knotting who. I almost wished he would, Radon and I were supremely well matched. We’d spent many a delightful evening fighting for just such an honor.

“It isn’t something that my people usually engage in, no,” I hedged, my hands wandering to the front of Radon’s cut, pulling it apart and easing it down his shoulders, as he stood with his feet planted and his expression stern. He was playing at being unaffected but the tent in the front of his tight fitting jeans told another story. “But magic derived from the movement and emotions of practitioners is definitely a real thing. Ask the scribes. Sex magic, as you called it, is a powerful tool to wield.”

I dropped the cut on the top of the dresser and started to lift the hem of Radon’s shirt, revealing inch by inch his deep amethyst flesh. He was toppling into this just as surely as the rest of us and I feasted on the evidence of his inevitable capitulation. True, the scaled pattern which covered our skin was the least visible on our stomachs, but it was almost invisible now given the darkness of his new hue.

His dragon was practically screaming its acceptance of Tess’ claim.

“Stop fucking around, Ast,” Radon growled, snatching my hands off his shirt and ripping it down the center before he threw it on the dresser on top of his cut. “You want Tess to see how Dragons come together? Then take me the way you want to. The way your dragon is begging for you to do.” He tore his belt from his jeans and tossed it defiantly at the floor. “Make me submit, mate.”

Then Radon shoved me down onto the bed and sprinted from the room. Or tried to.

“With fucking pleasure.”

Using my warrior’s speed and strength, I didn’t even let Radon take more than a few steps.

Grabbing the back of his head, I halted his momentum completely, drawing a vicious growl from his lips as I spun him back around to face me. “I told you, Radon. No more fucking running. Not from this. Not from us.”

My fingers sank into the dark fall of his hair, scraping at his scalp and digging into the sensitive flesh around his horns. The sharp intake of Radon’s breath, the arch of his back pressing his cock against mine, still trapped in its cage of denim, brought my dragon all the way to the surface. Need and defiance waged a fierce battle in the light of his eyes.

A shaky breath and the decidedly female scent of desire blossomed out from the corner of the room. Drawing both of our fierce gazes to lock on our fourth and final fated mate. Her thighs were pressed together, already quivering with the need to join us or flee.

Keeping my eyes on Tess, I leaned down, taking a long slow lick up the corded muscles of my mate’s neck. His mark rushed to the surface of his flesh, visible for all to see, drawing another whimper from both of our watching mates.

On a groan, we toppled onto the bedding. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I reversed our positions, pushing Radon into the mattress, pushing his face into the bedding so I could tear his jeans down.

“Gorgeous,” I growled, the sound of my hand smacking his upturned ass. “Tess, tell Radon how good he looks, bent over on the bed for me. Presenting this ass so nicely for us all to see.”

“Shit,” was all our mate said, the tea long forgotten in her clutching hands as her eyes roamed over the two of us together.

Quasar’s tail slithered further up our mate’s leg, the pointed end dipping just under the shorts she’d changed into. Slowly, Tess’s hand came down to run her fingers over the sensitive ridge, and he went rigid, pants tenting.

“Don’t stop,” he hissed as her fingers wandered over the appendage, exploring the texture. “Please, Tess?”

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