Demand of the Dragon Page 3

  As Caleb licked a long, dragging stroke up her center, Lucy’s hips rose up and she cried out. The pleasure was sharp, near its peak. And it hadn’t even begun.

  He went to work on her core, teasing her clit, toying with her nerves as if he knew exactly what it would take to unravel her completely. Slow drags of his tongue switched to quick flicks on her pleasure spot. She quivered. Shook. Struggled for air. She was completely at his mercy.

  And he knew it.

  Raising his head just enough for Lucy to see the hunger in his eyes, Caleb said, “I want you to come for me.” Ever so slowly, he slipped his finger inside her. “God, you’re so tight.”

  On a throaty moan, Lucy’s eyes rolled back. Waves of early release rolled through her. Between the intensity of his mouth and the pressure of his finger inside her, Lucy felt the hot, jagged peak of ecstasy closing in.

  And as his finger slipped in and out of her, Lucy let out a strangled cry. Her entire body convulsed, rocking against his mouth when the full strength of the orgasm hit. Raising her hips, bringing her core closer to his mouth, Caleb devoured every last part of her. As he gripped her backside, Lucy clawed at his shoulders, feeling as though every ounce of energy from her body had been wrung out.

  When the last pulse of pleasure squeezed its way out of her, Caleb removed his mouth from her core...and smiled.

  Lucy sank into the fur blankets with melted muscles and a blissfully blank mind.

  “I didn’t peg you for a black lace kind of girl.” Caleb guided her shredded panties down her leg, then dropped them beside her. “Especially on the night of the claiming ceremony. Sacred means white to most girls.”

  Lucy tilted her head, swishing around on the fur so that she could see him clearly. His dark eyes burned bright with lingering need. “I wanted to give my future partner a surprise.”

  Caleb rested his chin on the flat span of her stomach. “Even though you didn’t know if you’d like the bastard?”

  “I aim to please.” She reached down and flicked his ear.

  “Lucky for you I like black.”

  Lucy stroked the bulging muscles of Caleb’s shoulders and down his back as far as she could reach. His tanned skin was slick beneath her hand, his muscles flexing as she raked her fingers over them.

  She’d been so drunk on the lingering effects of her own pleasure, she’d nearly forgotten about Caleb’s needs.

  “What about you?” Lucy asked, dancing her fingers over a ridge of muscle. Simply thinking about pleasuring Caleb the way he’d just pleasured her thrilled her down to her toes. “Why don’t you come up here.”

  It was more of a statement than a question.

  But he didn’t respond.

  Caleb’s coal-black eyes met hers as he let out a heavy sigh. “That was great, but I think we should take it slow, one step at a time, don’t you?”

  “Slow? You think what we just did is taking it slow?” Her fingers stilled, matching the hush of her heart. “Are you serious?”

  “A lightning storm is supposed to hit the southern edge of the isle by nightfall and I’ve got a lot of flying to do before we reach werewolf territory.”

  Lucy barely heard his words, but she understood the meaning all right: he’d gone too far, but only because she’d pretty much begged for it. He didn’t want to take it any farther.

  She was an idiot.

  He was pulling a classic Caleb move. Get in, get out, before anyone gets too deeply involved. Lucy knew Caleb’s game; he’d played it on a hundred hopeful hearts before. Only this time, he didn’t even want to get in long enough to finish what he started.

  That was the part that hurt the most.

  Trying to keep her dignity intact, Lucy slid from beneath his massive body and stood, jerking down her dress. Damn it, where was her bag? The clothes she’d worn to Draco Cavern were inside along with an extra pair of underwear.

  “Fine,” she said, searching around the room. Had someone brought her bag to the chamber? Or was it still in the dressing room? “Do you have reason to believe Tristan could’ve come out of a portal in werewolf territory?”

  By the time she spun around, Caleb was standing in front of the armoire, holding her bag. “Don’t be upset, Luce.”

  “I’m not upset.” She tried to snatch the bag from him, but he held tight. “And don’t call me Luce. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  “I can see that.” His gaze trailed to Lucy’s breasts and heat hit her cheeks once more.

  “Just give me my stuff. I need to change.”

  His jaw clenched and with another tug, he released the bag. Reeling from the brush-off, Lucy changed in the bathroom. She was stupid to think there could’ve been something more between them. She must’ve misread their chemistry—it wasn’t two-sided. He hadn’t wanted a relationship with her before, and he clearly didn’t want one with her now.

  But when Lucy stepped out of the bathroom, wearing jeans, a white tank top and a pair of beat-up black boots, she could’ve sworn Caleb sucked in a clipped breath.

  He’d changed, too, tossing a charcoal gray T-shirt over his black pants. It was amazing how effortlessly he could stop her heart. His short hair was wild—thanks to her fingers raking through it—but the sexy-tousled-look suited him. His eyes seemed darker than they’d been when she entered the bathroom, but his Draco specks shined just as gold. The ache to see him in dragon form struck Lucy hard, and she had to shake her head to ditch the memory of Caleb in his golden glory.

  He slung a backpack over his shoulder and opened the door leading to the hall. They had a long path ahead of them—the journey to find Tristan and bring him back safely.

  “Ready?” Caleb waved for her to walk through.

  Just the movement of his hand was a reminder of what just happened. How was she going to ride him without thinking about how it’d feel to ride him in a different way?

  Storming to the bed, Lucy shoved her shredded lace panties into her bag, then slung it over her shoulder. She snatched Tristan’s medallion from the armoire and looped it around her neck.

  “You never answered my question.” She pushed past him, swathed in the wake of his naturally masculine scent. “Why are we going into werewolf territory?”

  “There are a few portals over there that are unmanned. Tristan could’ve come through in Were territory and would need help getting back.” Caleb increased his pace, past the Great Hall, down a narrow, stone-carved passageway and through the final archway leading to the cavern exit. “It’s a long shot, but the portals in Draco territory are either heavily guarded or sealed. The only ones left are on other parts of the isle.”

  “Wait,” Lucy said, catching up. “What about Tristan’s medallion?”

  “Did you forget it back there?”

  “No, but I think you’re overlooking it.”

  They reached the edge of the cavern and stopped as the entire, amazing length of Timeless Gorge stretched out before them. The cavern was about as wide as it was deep, large enough to easily fit the dragons swooping around inside it. Far, far below, a sparkling blue ribbon of river snaked its way around cliffs and out of sight.

  “What are you talking about?” Caleb spun around.

  Lucy held the medallion in her hand. “It’s more than a medallion...it’s a key. It fits into a chest that’s been passed down in my family from generation to generation. Tristan never took this medallion off. Not ever.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Caleb knelt near the wall, tugged off his shirt and shoved it into his bag. His body rippled with layers of bulging muscle. His stomach flexed into a perfect set washboard abs, and his legs were the size of tree trunks.

  Greek god, Lucy thought, facing the wall with her arms folded across her chest. Caleb had turned into a damn Greek god! What was his godly strength? Turning her on when she knew better?

  “Whatever is in the chest that he—maybe we should figure out what’s inside the, um―” Don’t think about his abs, she chastised herself “―in ca
se it’s something that we need?”

  “You think there might be something in the chest that we could use to find Tristan?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s worth a look.” Lucy studied the formation of the stone-faced cavern to keep her gaze off Caleb. “I just keep thinking that the medallion was close to him and I’ve never seen what’s inside the chest. Whatever he kept in there was valuable to him...stands to reason that it might be valuable to us, too.”

  “Where is it?” As Caleb shoved his pants down around his ankles, Lucy turned away with a stifled gasp. Nothing could take away the image of his backside. The sight was now burned into her memory.

  “The chest is in, ah, Thorne Castle.” Don’t think about his ass, she silently chanted again. “At least it was before you guys disappeared.”

  “What’s it doing there?”

  “My family used to own the castle, before they discovered the portal beneath it and deserted the place.”

  Silence.

  “Caleb?”

  Lucy spun around, slammed her back against the stone and inhaled sharply at the sight before her.

  Caleb had shifted into a dragon, only he wasn’t the dragon Lucy remembered. He was colossal—well over ten feet tall. Teardrop-shaped scales covered his body, coating his leathery skin. The color of his scales was so bright, so warm and buttery, they seemed to absorb the setting sun’s rays and radiate them back with a luminosity that nearly blinded her.

  She moved toward him. Mesmerized. Reaching out. As the tips of her fingers brushed over his left flank, his entire body rolled into a shudder. His scales were soft. Silkier than she thought possible.

  Unbelievable.

  Lucy had never ridden him before. Not once. She’d imagined it a thousand times and wished for it a thousand more. But now, standing in front of him this way...she caught herself holding her breath.

  “Now or never,” she said, pushing the air from her lungs, stepping up onto his hind leg.

  With a snort, Caleb craned his neck around and nudged it against the dirt floor. Lucy looked back, following his gaze.

  His backpack.

  It was as if she hadn’t been trained for this at all. Sindraco riders carried their Draco’s clothes, since they couldn’t carry it themselves. Sindracos directed them. Rode them hard and fast, pushing the dragons beyond their limits.

  Half the morning with Caleb, and Lucy had all but forgotten her entire upbringing.

  But she couldn’t carry his bag if she planned to bring hers. Biting back a curse, Lucy shoved her spare clothes into Caleb’s bag, slung it across her back, and approached his side. He offered his leg for her to mount him. She took the step and heaved herself onto the ridge streaming down the middle of his back.

  Lucy leaned down, unsure of where to put her hands. The dragons she’d ridden during Sindraco training were half Caleb’s size. Her arms easily wrapped around the base of their necks, providing the perfect hold for unsettling flight. Their skin was rougher, too. Her thighs didn’t feel as if they were slipping over satin.

  She must’ve been thinking too long.

  Mr. Impatient rolled his body from his tail to head, sending Lucy careening from her seat, down the thick length of his neck. Out of instinct, she latched on, hugging him tightly, though her arms were nowhere near closing around him.

  He shook, a tiny tremble that felt like a laugh.

  “You think that’s funny?” Lucy said, flattening her chest to the back of his neck. “You’ll get a real kick out of this.”

  She dug in with her heels. Jabbing him right in his sensitive underbelly.

  With a jolt that rocketed her out of her seat, Caleb leaped from the ledge and plummeted into the gorge. Lucy pinched her eyes shut. Held her breath. Felt the warm wind in her hair and Caleb’s strength solidly beneath her.

  And when Lucy thought they couldn’t possibly fall any faster, Caleb picked up speed, pounding his wings, rippling his body through the air.

  Lucy opened her eyes.

  The river!

  She screamed, clutching Caleb for dear life as he flattened out at the last minute, soaring over the water like an eagle. Only he wasn’t an eagle. He was one-part dragon, one-part jackass.

  “Okay,” she said, stroking his side. “I’m sorry. Truce?”

  He craned his neck around and slowly blinked his big, coal-black eyes.

  Truce.

  Lucy’s heart fluttered as Caleb lifted her through the sky, higher and higher, his wings beating the air with relentless strokes. As they crested the ridge of the canyon, Lucy peered at the rain forest below. Miles upon miles of trees blanketed the landscape. It was breathtaking. The sky always seemed more beautiful from up here. Even with black clouds lumbering over the horizon, the wind was crisp and clean, and the colors were more vibrant.

  Lucy wasn’t sure how long Caleb flew, when thunderclouds conquered the sky, or when her hold loosened into a soft embrace, but she knew when he started to feel differently about their flight. Somewhere on the southern end of Draco territory, Caleb’s body began to hum. The small pulsations tingled against Lucy’s legs and warmed her middle. It was like riding a powerful motorcycle in all its grumbling glory.

  As heat crawled up Lucy’s legs, vibrating her in all the right places, she shifted, slinging her body weight far to the right side. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. It wasn’t normal to be thinking sexual things about a Draco when in dragon form.

  But this wasn’t any dragon. This was Caleb. The humming, the rolling of his body, his sheer power as he dominated the sky.

  It was him.

  And riding him was the most erotic thing she’d ever felt in her life.

  Tingles of pleasure slinked to her middle. She readjusted, splaying herself over him. Not now. She couldn’t think about him now. How many training courses had she taken that explained the connection a dragon had with his rider? How many times had she heard that a dragon can sense what his rider is feeling?

  The humming increased, vibrating Lucy’s middle until she was sure the next ten minutes would grant her entrance into the Feralon Sky Club. But then Caleb slowed. Flattened out his wings and banked right.

  There, on top of the southernmost ridge of the isle, perched Thorne Castle. She hadn’t seen it in years. The castle had been demolished, and was now ruled by moss-masked stones and murky shadows. The eastern wall had been crushed, broken through completely, and the top tower no longer existed except for an exposed platform with stones protruding from it like broken teeth.

  “The place has changed a ton,” Lucy whispered, as thunder growled from all around them.

  Caleb rolled his neck in agreement as the clouds opened up, drenching them in seconds.

  Chapter Four

  Caleb closed in on the uneven stone overhang on the eastern side of the castle. With a low whoosh, he quickened the beating of his wings and gripped the ledge with the tips of his talons. Once on flat ground, Caleb dipped his wings and bowed, letting Lucy dismount.

  It was a damn shame he had to put her down. Judging from the stimulating currents flowing off her body, things were about to get interesting. But he couldn’t risk flying in the storm and getting struck by lightning. One bolt through his wings and he’d drop to earth like a stone.

  As if on cue, a jagged spear of light pierced the sky, punching through the tallest evergreen canopy of the forest below them. When the rod disappeared, smoke snaked to the heavens. Good thing the forest was moist and the air was humid; fires weren’t a threat.

  Cowering from the rain, Lucy darted beneath the nearest archway, dumped his bag, and turned back, waiting for Caleb to shift. Scanning the sky to make sure they weren’t followed, Caleb gathered shards of energy into his gut and pushed outward, shrinking in size and strength. His scales flattened and smoothed into tanned skin. His wings folded into his back, disappearing into his muscles effortlessly.

  As he glanced up, he caught Lucy’s gaze. He shouldn’t get used to the way she looked at him, though it�
�d be damn easy. Her sapphire eyes nearly glowed with awe and admiration. Those feelings would change once she found out that he was the one responsible for her brother’s disappearance in the first place.

  He should’ve been at Tristan’s side.

  He should’ve never left to wander the Sindraco village.

  Finding Tristan alive would mean Caleb hadn’t failed as a partner and friend as miserably as he’d believed all these years. It would mean the guilt Caleb had borne could lessen and, with time, diminish completely. It was really the only way Lucy would forgive him...the only way he’d forgive himself.

  “Come on,” Caleb said, and grabbed Lucy’s hand. He needed to get inside and put some clothes on. And Lucy needed to dry off. She was drenched. Her honey-blond hair was plastered to her head, with silky strands covering her face. “Let’s go inside and wait out the storm.”

  “Wait.” She resisted, pulling back.

  Sheets of rain cascaded over them, turning the gray-faced stone of the castle black. It slashed sideways on the wind, soaking them despite the overhead cover.

  Once Caleb’s gaze settled on Lucy, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her white tank top was sopping wet and see-through. The cotton clung to her skin, revealing two perfectly pink nipples drawn tight from the rain.

  Caleb’s skin tightened over his bones. He knew that look; it was desire in its purest form. Could he resist Lucy again? The clenching in his gut warned that he wouldn’t be able to hold back another second if she didn’t quit looking at him that way.

  What happened in the chamber had surprised the hell out of him. He wasn’t supposed to feel such heated intensity with someone like Lucy, someone he truly cared for. It was supposed to be physical—two people releasing tension, and nothing more.

  But their encounter was light years away from being something dry and impersonal.

  Lucy lit a fire in his gut, releasing all kinds of primal desire and pent-up rage. She was hotter than he could’ve imagined. He’d always known they had chemistry that burned off the charts, but he wasn’t expecting to feel sated from pleasuring her. Watching her climax stirred something inside him. It aroused him like never before.