The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

“Do you have any idea what would happen if he heard you say that?” Baltic asked, following with a glint of appreciation in his dark eyes. “Heads would roll at the very least.”

“I prefer something else be rolled,” I said with a hint of a leer as I slipped down the stairs.

“I have heard that women who are breeding often have unnatural appetites for men. I am pleased that you are experiencing this, although I will remind you that you must not be too inventive with your ways to drive me insane with lust, lest you harm the babe. I insist that you allow me to decide what is safe for you to do, and not try to coerce me into performing intricate acts of lovemaking, as you did last night. Ysolde! Cease that! I just got through telling you that you are not to do that! Or that. For the love of the saints, what are you doing with . . . oh, very well, just this once, but this is the last time, do you hear me? After this, you will do as I say!”

I giggled at the arrogance in his voice, feeling warm and loved, and pleased with the world despite the many cares that burdened me.

“You are happy, my love?”

“Oh, yes,” I said on a breath, snuggling down deeper into the soft warmth of the mattress.

“As am I. I, too, missed you.”

Heat started to lick up my back, spreading outward in a slow glow of passion. Warmth nuzzled my neck in a way that left me simultaneously boneless and lit by a fire from within.

“I have to say, much as I love these visions, the real thing is so much better.”

“Mmm.” The heat suddenly pulled away from me, leaving me feeling bereft. “Ysolde.”

“Make love to me,” I pleaded, moving restlessly in the warm cocoon of the bed.

“Not until you wake up.”

I opened my eyes to see our bedroom, not the small, dark-paneled cabin of the ship upon which we’d sailed so many hundreds of years ago. “Baltic?”

“Yes. It is the real me, not the past version, which you seem to be obsessed with watching in moments of lovemaking. And now you demand that you participate in those past moments?” He rolled me over onto my back, all warm, and male, and infinitely desirable. The emotions of the vision lingered enough that I purred as I stroked my hand up his bare chest despite his frown and outrageous accusation.

“I did participate. We both did, so you can stop looking at me like I’m some sort of Peeping Tom pervert. And besides, I can’t help it. You were extremely sexy, you know.”

His frown deepened.

I licked his lower lip. “But now . . . mrowr.”

“I approve of your mrowr,” he said, letting me kiss him. I pushed him over onto his back, reaching under his pillow as I reveled in the taste and feel of him.

“Fire?” I murmured, twining my tongue around his. His fingers were busy pushing up the satin of my nightgown, stroking a path up my legs that left me squirming.

“You have your own—” he started to say, but I wouldn’t let him finish.

“Fire!”

He tried to flip me over onto my back, but I held him down. “You are becoming entirely too demanding, mate. And I have been too accommodating. You forget that I am the wyvern.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten that,” I cooed, nibbling along his jaw. His hands caressed my hips, then moved around to my behind when I bit his earlobe. “Before we died, did I ever tie you up and have my wanton way with you?”

“I am a wyvern. I am the one who is dominant, not my mate.” He groaned when my hand swept down his chest to his belly at the same time I gently bit the tendons of his neck. “I would not have allowed you to restrain me.”

“Good. Then this should be a novel experience for you.” I slid back enough for him to see the object I’d pulled out from under the pillow.

“No,” he said, giving it and me a stern look.

“Oh, yes, Baltic.”

“No. Where did you get them?”

“Pavel’s room.” I looked at the leather-and-sheep’s-wool wrist restraints. “I was looking for . . . er . . . Did you get my text message about Thala?”

“Yes. I am pleased that you convinced the other mates to go against their wyverns and free her. She’s here?”

“Yes. She’s . . . uh . . . sleeping,” I answered, thinking about the sleeping aid I’d managed to slip into the beverage she had demanded once she came out of her shock-induced stupor.

“I will see her in the morning. But first, we have been parted, and I must claim you now.”

I laughed at the matter-of-fact way he said it. “That’s just exactly what I’m planning, only with a little twist.”

“What part of ‘I am the wyvern’ do you not understand?” he asked, pinching me on the behind. “I will use the cuffs on you. Perhaps someday I will allow you to reciprocate, but for now—”

“Oh, no. It’s my idea, so I get to go first.” I wrapped one cuff around his wrist and tried to pull his arm up toward the headboard. It didn’t budge. I looked from the rounded bulge of his bicep to his face. “Please, Baltic? You’re always telling me I’m obsessed with our past sex life. I just want to try something we haven’t done before. I promise you will get great pleasure from it.”

“I always have great pleasure making love to you,” he pointed out.

I leaned down and kissed him again, swirling my tongue along his lower lip. “I’ll rouse my dragon fire if you let me do this.”

He narrowed his lovely dark eyes at me. “Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Yes.”

He sighed, and reluctantly let me pull his arm upward, over his head. “I am growing too soft with you. I would say that you have no respect for me, but the truth is that you never did. This is the last time, though, mate. I will allow you to have your way in this because you wish to separate your memories of our past from the present, but this is the last time I will be so cooperative.”

I smiled and dipped my head to swirl my tongue around one pert little nipple that seemed to be begging for just such attention. He sucked in his breath, and quickly I put the other cuff on his wrist, securing that arm, too.

He looked from one arm to the other, then to me. “I do not like this. You will hurry and satisfy yourself upon me so that I may claim you as is right and proper.”

“Oh, I’m going to satisfy more than just me.” I moved off the bed and padded over to a discreet stereo system.

“First you demand to restrain me, and then you leave? What is this torment?” Outrage dripped off his words as I contemplated a small collection of CDs. I picked out one and popped it on the player, turning back to face him.

“This, my darling, is Shania Twain. She and I are going to make sure that you’re receptive to all the things I want to do to you.”

“Music? You desire music now?”

“We never had music while making love before,” I pointed out, tossing my head as my favorite song started. “It all goes along with things we haven’t done in the past. Did I ever do a striptease for you?”

“No. I am not aroused by such things, and my old Ysolde would never have lowered herself to attempting to distract me suchly.” His eyes widened as, moving to the bouncy music, I ran my hands down the slinky satin nightgown, mouthing “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” to him as I started to hike the material up my legs. I accompanied the move with a few hip shakes that had his eyebrows raising.

“Perhaps I was overly hasty in my assessment of your dance,” he finally said, watching with an avid light as I danced closer to him, leaning over his head so my breasts almost popped out of the thin material.

He tried to reach for me, but Pavel’s cuffs stopped him. He made a noise of unhappiness, and was about to yank himself free when I stopped him by stroking my hand down his chest, from his collarbone, all the way down to where his penis was saluting. “Oh, no, you don’t. You said I get to be in charge, and I say you have to lie there and take this.”

“Take wha—” His eyes rolled back in his head when I bent down and took him in my mouth, letting my