Dragon Actually

seen her before, he’d never know. But centaurs had strong Magicks, so perhaps she could protect herself from the dragons’ keen senses.

She stopped outside a smaller but still enormous chamber. “She is inside, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

With a small smile, the centaur said, “I will make sure no one disturbs you at least until morn.”

Bercelak chuckled and said again with much sincerity, “Thank you.”

Then she was gone. Just like that. Bercelak looked around but he couldn’t see her anywhere.

Interesting, but of no real concern. Besides, he had bigger issues at the moment.

With a deep intake of breath, Bercelak entered the new queen’s chamber.

“Rhiannon?”

He couldn’t see her anywhere. But he did see the enormous bed she had set up in one corner. That made him smile. Seemed his princess had come to enjoy the benefits of a human body.

On a whim, he shifted to human and walked toward the bed. “Rhiannon? Where are you?”

He reached the bed and looked down at the animal skins covering it. He felt his cock harden at the thoughts of what he planned to do to his princess in this bed. What he planned to do to her for hundreds of years if all went as planned.

“Rhiannon?” he called again.

Suddenly she slammed into his back, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist. She was human and deliciously naked.

“Ha!”

It took him a moment, but he realized Rhiannon was . . . well . . . attacking him.

Grunting, she had firm hold of his neck and actually tried to throw him on his back.

“What in bloody hell are you doing?” He wasn’t angry. Just greatly perplexed.

“What?” she panted as she did her best to drop him to the floor. “You thought this Claiming would be easy? You’ll have to fight for me!”

The fact she couldn’t get him to budge or even wind him, seemed to irritate her as she growled in his ear. Of course, the sound only made his cock pulse in time to his heart and lust.

Crossing his arms over his chest and bracing his feet apart, “Didn’t I just fight for you?”

“No. You fought for your queen, who is me. But in order to Claim Rhiannon the dragoness . . . you’ll have to fight me.”

“Oh. Is that right?”

“Well, you didn’t think I’d just roll over, did you?”

“Actually I was hoping for an on-all-fours sort of thing.”

“You’ll have to do more than hope, Low Born.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” she said with her usual dose of arrogance.

With a smile, Bercelak reached back with one arm, his forearm stretching over her and his fingers taking tight hold of her under her armpit. With a smile, he flipped her over his shoulder and slammed her onto the bed.

“I win!” he cheered.

Bastard!

She should have been much sneakier. She forgot the stories his siblings told her about Ailean’s way of raising his offspring. When she slammed into his back, although she knew he never sensed her coming, the big ox never even moved. She could have been a fairy or a piece of dust from the way she affected him.

Gods, she loved him.

She looked up into his smiling face. He’d knocked the wind out of her by slamming her on the bed so hard, but she really had no one to blame but herself.

He moved closer but his big feet hit something under the bed and he glanced down only to look back at her with a huge grin. He did that a lot now, and she loved it.

“I’m guessing my sisters helped you get your chamber set up, eh, Rhiannon?”

He reached down and when he stood tall again, he held those damn chains in his hands. “I love how my kin cares for me so.”

“Dammit!” She tried to scramble away from him, but as strong as he was, he was also unbelievably fast. He caught hold of her around the waist and slammed her back to the bed.

“Oh, no, no, my love. You wanted me to Claim you properly. Then Claim you I shall. So that everyone knows it.”

Gods, what did that mean?

The collar snapped around her neck and she growled in protest.

“Don’t complain. You know you love it.”

She did, but she wasn’t about to admit that.

Once he had the collar on securely and the chain that ran from it in his hand, he pulled her up the bed until her head nearly touched the headboard. Then the bastard clamped cuffs on her wrists and chained her arms to the bedpost.

And his sisters suggested this bloody bedpost! I’ll have to thank them later, she thought happily to herself.

Now it was true she could, finally, shift back to dragon at anytime, but then . . . so could he. Besides, where would be the fun in that? Bercelak stood up and stared at her with both her arms bound.

Gods, the heat in his eyes made her wet and needy. As it always did. No one had ever looked at her like that. True, she’d seen lust before, but never so mingled with love.

He glanced at her legs. “Hhhm. I’d hate for you to kick me,” he muttered to himself.

“Don’t you dare!”

Which, of course, meant he would dare.

Bercelak’s big fingers dragged along her body as he slowly walked to the foot of the bed. He stopped long enough to gently grip a nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeeze. She barely stopped that moan in time, but he saw her struggle and grinned.

Then he was moving again. Once he reached the end of the bed, he locked a chain to the tall bedpost and then grabbed hold of her foot, cuffing it.

He walked to the other side, the whole time staring at her.

“Gods, Rhiannon, you are beautiful. Whether as dragon or human . . . you’re beautiful.”

She’d had other males say similar words to her in the past, but never with such passion and, because Bercelak wanted only her and not her crown, those words meant so much more than anything anyone had said before.

Her other foot locked to the bedpost, she now lay spread eagle and open for his pleasure. She couldn’t wait.

Instead of taking her, though, he stared at her for long moments and finally she couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“What? What are you staring at?”

“I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you. I want everyone to know that you belong to me, Rhiannon. Everyone. Tell me now if that’s not what you want.”

Ooh. This was going to hurt. But it would be a shortlived pain and she wanted all to know she belonged to him. She wanted dragons from far and wide to know that to even look at her was to risk her mate’s wrath.

“No more words, Low Born. Don’t waste my time. Just do what you intend or let me go.”

He nodded once and then he was on the bed, his mouth over her human foot. Right by that oddly shaped “big toe.” Bercelak’s talented tongue slid across her toe and down the top of her foot. And where his tongue went, a brutal pain followed as he burned her. Most dragon mates marked a shoulder or wrist. Some a breast or, the one’s with senses of humor, the ass. But Bercelak was his father’s son and when he took a woman he wanted everyone to know he’d Claimed her. Kin or enemy. Friend or foe. They would all know.