Home > About a Dragon (Dragon Kin #2)(11)

About a Dragon (Dragon Kin #2)(11)
Author: G.A. Aiken

He looked down into that beautiful face, torn between wanting the return of the cowering female paralyzed by dragonfear and this sarcastic, argumentative female he had the feeling he’d never recover from. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes.”

He bent his neck to the side and heard the bones crack.

“Here, Briec the Mighty, try it with me.” She leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Talaith.”

Suddenly Briec couldn’t look away from those eyes. They snared him as sure as a war party’s nets. When he finally said the words, he nearly whispered them, unable to find his voice. “I’m sorry, Talaith.”

She blinked in surprise, most likely guessing she’d never get him to say it. She tried to pull away, but he slipped his hand behind the back of her neck and tugged her closer while he leaned over the chair between them.

“Briec?”

“Sssh.”

He had to kiss her. Simply had to. He moved in closer, nearing his goal.

“So what’s to eat?”

Briec’s head snapped up at the sound of Gwenvael’s voice. And before he could consider the consequences of his actions, he sent a ball of flame that shoved the dragon’s human form completely out of the chamber.

As soon as he did it, he knew his mistake. He turned around, black smoke still curling from his nostrils, to find Talaith staring at him. Her eyes wide, her mouth open.

“Talaith—”

She shook her head. “No. No. Everything’s fine.” Of course, she said that as she pried his fingers off her neck and leaned away from him.

Talaith no longer had the dragonfear, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t wary. She went back to her fruit and cheese as Briec desperately worked to control his human body.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she said, “Um, so, how long you think this weather will last then?”

Accepting his defeat for the moment, Briec shrugged. “I don’t know. But hopefully not long.”

Hopefully not long at all. His desire for this strange female was beginning to affect his normally logical mind.

And he didn’t like it one damn bit.

* * *

Talaith stood at the mouth of the alcove and stared. “This is amazing,” she murmured.

“Dragons like water. One of my brothers has a lake in his den.”

She nodded as she examined the steaming hot springs. There were eight in varying sizes, replenished from an outside water supply according to Gwenvael. He’d bragged about them all through the delicious lamb dinner Éibhear made. The more he talked about it, the more she wanted to try them out. She hadn’t had a bath since the dragon dunked her in the lake after she’d vomited.

“You going to get in or just stand there with your mouth open…drool coming out.”

She glared at him. “Very funny.” Talaith stepped inside, letting the light fragrant steam wrap around her. It was warm but not uncomfortably hot. Crouching down, she tested the water with her finger, relieved to discover it was hot but not searing—with dragons you could never be too sure, their idea of uncomfortably hot differing from most. With renewed eagerness, her fingers went to the ribbon tying her bodice together, quickly undoing it. But as she started to strip off her dress, Talaith realized Briec leaned back against the wall and watched her.

“Could you excuse me?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.

“Will you not let me enjoy anything?”

“That’s a bit unfair.” He grinned. “I merely thought we could enjoy it together.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

Briec sighed. “Do you really dislike me that much, little witch?”

“It isn’t that I dislike you so much, big, fat dragon. It’s that I don’t like you enough.”

“You’re cruel.” And she knew he teased.

“Aye. So I’ve been told. Too cruel for you.” She put her hands on his chest and tried her best to shove the big ox from the chamber. “Find yourself a willing woman. A dragoness perhaps. Someone who actually finds you charming.”

He took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll leave you, little witch.”

“Thank you—”

“For now.”

Talaith bit her lip as Briec slipped her index finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the tip before gently sucking. His eyes stayed on Talaith’s, unwilling to let her go.

Her sex went dripping wet, her strong legs went weak. Another minute of this exquisite torture and she’d be flat on her back without another word.

All I wanted to do was take a bath. Now all she wanted to do was wrap herself around Briec the Arrogant like a jungle snake.

Using the same control she possessed to slow her heart rate and calm her breathing, Talaith pulled away from the dragon. “Well, that was…interesting.” She took a step back. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Briec nodded, turned, and began to walk away. Stopped abruptly. Sniffed the air. Looked back at her with a grin. Then he walked off.

She glared at his retreating form and thought about all the wonderful ways she could eviscerate the beast.

* * *

Moving silently so as not to wake the sleeping Talaith, Briec lay down outside the cavern Gwenvael gave her for a room. It had an enormous bed. A table and chairs of the finest wood. A pitfire built right into one wall. It was nice and he’d give almost anything to share that bed with Talaith. But she still resisted him. He had no idea why. She wanted him. He knew it. She knew it.

They could be spending the entire night making each other very happy until they both passed out from the pleasure of it. Instead, she fought him. Fought him and herself as far as he was concerned.

Yet what truly baffled him? What would most likely keep him up for the entire night…why he cared? And why he enjoyed her fight so very much?

She sighed in her sleep and he crossed his eyes at the images that gave his delirious brain. Of her under him, sighing like that when he made her come, and come…

Stop, Briec. You’re only torturing yourself. Painfully so.

Briec rested his dragon head on his arms and prayed for dawn. Dawn would bring the suns and his way out of this nightmare. Because, he knew, once he got his lovely, sweet Talaith back to his den, she’d be all his.

Chapter Seven

“Where the hell are the suns?”

Talaith’s head snapped up from her book at Briec’s angry shout somewhere off in the cave.

Gwenvael, who’d fallen asleep at the table, jerked awake, screaming, “I never touched her!”

Éibhear sighed in disgust. “You never fail to embarrass me.” He placed a bowl of hot porridge in front of Talaith. Where he learned to cook, she’d never know, but she appreciated it. He even made normally boring porridge delicious.

Gwenvael glared down at the bowl of porridge thrown in front of him. “Porridge? You want me to eat porridge?” He looked up at Éibhear. “Has your mind slipped since last night? Where’s that horse I found the other day?”

Talaith, unable to hide her shock and not really wanting to, stared at Gwenvael in horror.

Éibhear cleared his throat and glared at his brother. “The horse, idiot brother o’ mine, is safe and alive somewhere else.”

“Come on, Talaith,” Gwenvael implored. “You don’t mind if we eat—”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do mind.”

He gave her what must be his best “imploring” face. “But, Talaith…my love.”

“Gwenvael…” she mimicked back to him, “…my pain.”

Éibhear laughed hard as Briec entered the chamber wearing only black breeches and boots. Does he have to look so…tasty? He sat in one of the chairs across from Talaith, threw his feet up on the table, pushed his porridge away and grabbed a piece of fruit. All while glaring at her.

She stared back, then said, “What are you looking at?”

He motioned to the ceiling with his hand. “Are you responsible for this?”

She glanced up at the rocky ceiling. It was actually kind of pretty with its sparkly shards hanging down. Of course, then she thought about those dropping on her head and suddenly they looked like dangerous blades. Shaking off the scary image, Talaith looked back at a still glaring Briec. “I didn’t do anything to the ceiling.”

“Not the ceiling,” he barked at her. “The weather.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Has being around dragons given me some kind of god-like status I am not aware of?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Éibhear bend his head over his porridge, desperately shoveling it into his mouth while Gwenvael simply laughed out loud.

Briec ignored his brothers and pointed an accusing finger at her. “You are the witch.”

“An untrained one, as you so eloquently pointed out. Besides, why would I play with the weather and risk angering the gods?” Like she didn’t have enough of that to worry about in general.

“Perhaps because you don’t want to leave. You seem so comfortable with my brothers, little witch.”

She leaned forward, ridiculously angry and loving every minute of it. For some strange reason, she felt completely safe arguing with this dragon—odd. “Because your brothers haven’t been pawing me or trying to see me nak*d.”

Gwenvael shrugged his massive shoulders. “Actually—”

Annoyed with the very sound of his voice, Talaith grabbed one of the fruits from the bowl near her plate and threw it. Her aim, as always, unerring. The large, round and juicy fruit slammed into Gwenvael’s head with unrelenting force.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Accident,” she snarled.

“Nice aim,” Briec grumbled. “For a quiet little wife.”

She turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Your point?”

He growled, and she grinned. Which did nothing but piss the dragon off. But before he could do or say anything else, Éibhear looked up from his empty bowl. “So!”

Startled by his near shout, they all stared at him. “Doesn’t seem like the rain will let up. What would everyone like to do today since we’re stuck inside?”

Talaith pointed at the book on the table next to her bowl. “I’ve got this.”

“You read?” For some unknown reason, Éibhear seemed ridiculously happy about this.

“Aye.”

“She’s a well-read peasant,” Briec drawled out.

“I know where there are more books.” Éibhear jumped up and was out of the cavern in seconds.

“But I already have a book,” she said to no one in particular.

“I guess he feels you need more.”

Her eyes locked on Briec. “What I need is to be let go.”

“Why would I do that? Have you somehow fulfilled your blood debt to me without my knowledge?”

“I never asked for you to save me.”

“Most likely because of that rope choking the life from you.”

“Oh!” She stood. “I hate you. Perhaps you should go fly in the rain and lightning will strike you dead!”

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