Artistic Vision

cinnamon liquor hit her, warm and enticing. She could detect the faintest hint of gold in the bottle and she salivated. Her body damn near vibrated at the metallic scent that permeated the liquid.

Tristan held his arms out to the sides, obviously not reaching for some form of antidote. She had no sensation that her senses were being tampered with.

Akane took a swig, shivering as gold-laced fire raced down her throat. “Mmm.” She rubbed the bottle against her, almost wishing it was the liquor itself.

“Whoa.” Tristan lowered his arms slightly and stepped forward. “Lemme double-check that bottle.”

Akane hissed at him, hugging the bottle closer.

“Alrighty then. You just hold that for now, ’kay?” Tristan’s hands went back up.

Akane eyed the Sidhe. She didn’t trust him. He was going to take her gold away.

As if she’d let him.

Akane lifted the bottle to her lips and proceeded to down it like she was a five-year-old drinking the last glass of sweet tea on a hot summer day.

“Good girl.” Tristan lowered his arms and took a step forward. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this now, but that’s not really Goldschlager.”

Akane tilted her head. Gods, he was a pretty, pretty man. Moonlight silvered his golden hair, kissed his pale skin. Something inside her throbbed at the thought of having him between her thighs.

Then the light hit his gray eyes, and Akane blinked. No. This wasn’t the pretty man she wanted. This was someone else.

She wanted the pretty man with the sapphire eyes and the smooth, rich voice. That voice alone could make her come if it whispered the right words.

Akane took a step back. “Then what is it?” Arousal tightened her belly, threatened to put her on her back for the wrong person.

“You see, Goldschlager dilutes the gold it puts into its liquor, and that wouldn’t do for what I had in mind.” Tristan reached out and touched her hair, tugging gently. Akane shook her head, freeing herself. “This is Goldwasser. Direct from the original factory.” He poked the bottle and earned himself another possessive growl. “The gold in there is twenty-four carat and utterly pure.”

Akane blinked. Oh. That would explain a lot.

“Once I figured out you were a dragon, I knew the best way to immobilize you would be to have you drink gold.” Tristan stroked his hand down her cheek, blinking when she moaned. “But the effects aren’t quite what I had intended. I merely meant to knock you out for a while, not send you into heat. Apparently my research was… insufficient.” He took a step back. “Akane?”

She was trembling with want, desperate for touch, even his. “I need.”

“I would provide, but I have the feeling you’d hate me in the morning.” He smiled sadly. “Besides, you’ve already been Claimed. If you want this fire doused, you need to find your mate. He’s the only one who can ease the heat.”

What? “How do you know that?”

“Any Sidhe can see it, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.” Her teeth were chattering, the arousal climbing to painful levels. “I hurt.”

“Whether you believe it or not, I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t my intention, despite how it looks.” Tristan leaned against a tree and sighed. She could scent his arousal.  He wanted her, but he held up his hand with a look of regret. “Fly home, little bird. There’s a warm hand waiting for you to land in.”

With a shriek of despair Akane shifted, spread her wings, and flew where she needed to be.

Home.

Shane stretched wearily. Cleaning up the studio always seemed to take forever, and after a day following his father around the farm the last thing he’d wanted to do was come back and sweep up metal shavings and glass shards. But if Akane was going to be coming back here there was no way he’d leave the dangerous pieces around for her to cut herself on.

He put the broom back in the closet and headed for the shower, eager to wash off the dirt of the day. He couldn’t wait until his little dragon showed up. He planned on giving her the present he’d made, the puzzle box gleaming all by itself on one of the empty pedestals in the display section of his studio. Akane would adore it, and if he kept slowly reeling her in without scaring her she’d eventually love the prize inside.

A deep, feral growl rumbled through the studio. It bounced off the walls, echoed in the high places. Shane wasn’t certain where it came from, but he knew who it was.

It seemed that, for some unknown reason, Akane was seriously pissed at him.

“A ghra?”

A low rumbling sound was his only answer.

“If you tell me what I’ve done wrong I’ll endeavor to fix it.” He tipped back the silly cowboy hat he’d stolen from Robin and stared up into the rafters. Was she there, perched, staring down at him?

“Shane.”

He whipped around, stunned by the pain in her voice. “Akane.”

She stood behind him, panting, arms crossed over her chest. Her horns peeked out of her hair. Her pupils were dilated, the hazel star in her left eye almost obscured. She was trembling hard enough that he feared for her bones.

Shane fought the rage that exploded at the sight. “Who hurt you?”

She took a step toward him and froze. She sniffed deeply. Her head fell back, a look of sheer bliss crossing her face. “Oh yes.” A predatory smile lit her face, her gaze focusing on his body. The trembling stopped. Her arms fell to her sides as she tilted her head, watching him, waiting for him to do…something. He could sense the tension in his mate as she inched closer to him. “I need.”

Only then did he understand what must have happened. Once he’d realized his mate would be a dragon he’d learned as much as he could about them. “That fucker fed you gold, didn’t he?”

Akane nodded, the movement more of a promise than an answer. She crooked her finger at him. The golden star in her left eye glittered dangerously.

“Why, Grandma, what big eyes you have.” Shane stepped back a pace. “If you do this, you’ll hate me in the morning.”

Akane ran her palms across her breasts, and really? That was so not fair. Shane had been dreaming about what color her nipples might be from the moment he met her. She licked her lips, her fingers inching toward the hem of her shirt.

“Oh, now. Hold on there.” Shane held up his hands. “There’s got to be another way. Maybe if we put you to sleep we can ride it out until the gold is out of your system.”

She shook her head. “Want you.” The shirt went flying, and Shane got his first glimpse of her underwear.

White. She’d worn white, sheer lace to a date with another man. Shane could clearly see her nipples now, like warm chocolate kisses had melted on the tips of her breasts. He’d always been a sucker for white lace. “Oh fuck me.”

“Good idea.” Akane pounced.

“Whoa!” Shane caught her before they both hit the floor. “Okay, a stor.” Her legs wrapped around his waist, and damn it, those full lips attached themselves to his neck and proceeded to shut down his forebrain. “Um. Yes. Sleeping it off would be…” He shuddered as her talented lips worked themselves down his neck. His cock beat an insistent tattoo against his zipper, eager to get the party started. “Later.”

Shane turned and started to carry her to the bedroom, his only thought to see if her panties matched her bra. If they did, he was a dead man. His dragon would devour him, and he’d go happily into that good night, thank you.

Shane almost dropped them both to the floor when Akane began dry humping him. Purr-like sounds poured from her throat as she ground against him. Sheer lust killed what little was left of his thoughts. Need rode him hard, the knowledge that his mate was willing in his arms overriding everything else.

Shane dumped her ass on the edge of his work table, the one he used to conjure raw materials. It was clean