Dragon Actually

Annwyl finished off her stew, then turned to the dragon, a chalice of wine in her hand.

“So, Lord Dragon, what are your plans for this evening?”

He adjusted his body awkwardly and the end of his deadly tail landed gently in her lap. “Well, I thought we could do that thing again.”

“That thing?” Annwyl desperately fought a smile as she ran her hand across the scaled tip. Its very edge shaped like an arrowhead and as sharp. She briefly wondered if the dragon ever needed to sharpen it with a stone. “Do you mean talking?”

“Yes. Yes. Whatever it is called.”

“You like talking, don’t you? Just admit it.”

“I like talking to you. And that is all I will admit to.”

“Fine. No need to get testy.” His snout moved close as well. Without even thinking about it, she rubbed her hand over it. And the dragon let her. “So tell me more about your family.”

“Don’t you get bored with my family stories?”

“Not at all.” She leaned forward and looked at him, her hand once again resting on the tip of his tail. “Waiting.”

Fearghus sighed. “Well, one time we shaved our baby brother’s head.”

Annwyl burst out laughing.

Chapter 7

Annwyl hit the ground. Again. She had to admit it. She grew tired of seeing the world from the flat of her back.

She winced as the pain shocked through her head. The knight had hit her with the back of his hand, the sword he held adding to the power of the move.

“I think you broke my nose.”

“Probably.” He stood over her, staring into her face. Suddenly she silently cursed herself for removing her shirt while they trained, the rocky dirt digging into her bare back that the bindings did not cover. “No. I just pushed it out of joint a bit.”

Annwyl began to stand but he pushed her back down. “Calm yourself.” He tossed his blade aside and straddled her hips. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he rested the lower half of his body against hers.

He leaned over and took her nose between both of his big hands. “This may hurt a bit.”

He adjusted her nose back into place with a “pop.”

“Ow!” She slapped his shoulder.

“Don’t be a baby,” he admonished with a smile. “So, while I’m down here, any other aches or pains you need me to assist you with?”

Annwyl needed him to get off her because she didn’t want him off her. She wanted him to run his hands over her body. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted this man inside of her. And the thought absolutely terrified her.

“Get off me.”

“You know the magic word.”

Annwyl rolled her eyes. “Please,” she bit out between clenched teeth. The man continued to try what little patience she possessed.

“Now. Now. You can do a little better than that. A little nicer please. Perhaps mean it.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Unless . . .”

“Unless?”

“Unless you don’t want me to move.” He leaned in closer. “Unless you want me to stay right here.”

Bastard, it seemed like he could read her thoughts. Just having him on top of her caused her blood to race. And she had the strangest throbbing sensation between her thighs. Not unpleasant, but definitely disconcerting.

“Well,” he persisted.

But she couldn’t answer him. She couldn’t speak. If she did, she truly feared what the hell would come out of her mouth. Instead, she stared into those dark black eyes of his and wondered if his sweat would taste salty on her tongue.

He allowed more of his weight to rest against her hips, and she bit the inside of her mouth to keep from moaning out loud. “Answer me, Annwyl.”

She swallowed, hard, and forced herself under some kind of control. Dammit, she was a warrior. The leader of one of the toughest rebellions in known history and still she let some knight completely confuse her.

“Get your ass off me . . . please.”

He stared at her stunned, then threw his head back and laughed. He jumped up, grasping her arm and pulling her up with him. “You never fail to amuse me.”

“I’m glad I can be so entertaining.” She quickly picked up her shirt by the stream and pulled it on over her head. She needed something to hide the hard points of her nipples. The bindings were not helping with that. “I think my nose has gone through quite enough this day. Besides, it grows late. I must go.”

He took hold of her wrist. “Are you sure?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“I don’t have time for this.” She hated how desperate she sounded at the moment, her entire body responding to his touch. Screaming out for him to explore every bit of her flesh.

“Don’t leave.” His voice low. Enticing.

“One of us needs to go.”

He smiled at her. “Why?”

Her eyes traveled the long length of him, taking in the expanse of his wide shoulders, the muscles bulging under his chainmail. “Trust me on this.”

He moved in closer to her. He still held onto her arm, but his fingers began to move along the flesh. Traveling up her arm. Her breasts tightened. Her nipples became painfully hard. Her breath quickened. She wanted this man. Gods, did she want him. More than anything before in her life. And he knew it. She could tell by the way he looked at her. The way he moved into her, his body nearly touching hers.

“You really need to go.”

He lowered his head, his eyes on her lips. “Really? Are you sure?”

She watched as his mouth lowered to meet hers.

Clearly he’d lost his mind. And he blamed the girl for it. In the beginning, he had no intention of doing anything more than training. But with those green eyes of hers staring up at him and that body calling out to be taken, really, what was a poor dragon to do?

Kiss her, of course. At least that was the plan as he brought his head down to taste her, but he felt a sharp slap as a hand covered his face.

“Hold it.” Annwyl reared back from him as she pushed his face away with her hand.

He pulled back, surprised.

“Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” She radiated anger. Although not her usual rage. It seemed something else altogether.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She pushed him by his shoulders. “What do you . . .” Push. “Think you are . . .” Push. “Doing?” Shove.