Chrys bristled. He wasn't hiding behind anyone, and even if he was, these females were better fighters than most men. It was hard to tell what was more insulting, honestly. Squirming beneath him brought his attention back to the more pleasant predicament he'd found himself in.
"The protection was unwarranted." Myrine placed her palms on his shoulders but didn't push him off her.
When her gaze dropped to his mouth, he hardened. Those pills Nestor made did wonders most days, but it couldn't fight genuine attraction. A blessing when the object of his attention was a sure thing. Not so much when he had the hots for a warrior queen who would sooner feed him his balls than swoon over some cheesy pickup line to get her in bed. The moment she became aware of his situation, her grip on his shoulders tightened.
"Leave us!" she shouted, not wavering in her focus on him.
Chrys started to roll off her, but to his surprise she held him firmly in place, wrapping her legs around his thighs before he could act. "What are—?"
Eyes glowing an eerie yellow, she said in a sultry voice, "Shut up and kiss me, Chrysander."
This was everything he wanted, but he had apparently lost his wits when the dragon sprayed fire at them because he could merely stare at her, dumbstruck and aroused as hell. Myrine growled in frustration and rolled him over onto his back. The spots on his shoulder blades that the heat had irritated came alive in pain. He hissed through the sensation as she sat up on his lap. The new position made him harder, if that were even possible, despite the pain in his back each movement caused.
"Not too many men would take the brunt of dragon fire for a woman, especially one who can take care of herself," she said as she dragged her hands down his body to the clasp of his jeans. He didn't dare remind her that he'd tripped and fallen when that happened, not when it had made him sound more heroic than he'd been clumsy. She unfastened his pants with ease, then slipped a hand inside to free his length. "Gods, I missed sex. When I wasn't in control of my body because of that bitch, she made us abstain."
Lamia had enslaved all her vrykolakas through their blood bond. All but Bremusa, anyway. This fact, along with other scattered thoughts, niggled at the back of his mind. He needed to check on Jacen. Had Theron done anything? He'd been out of contact too long. He—
Myrine stroked his length and all lingering responsibilities fell away. "Keep doing that and things will get messy."
When she smiled, her little fangs glistened in the light. "Do you know how millennia without sex makes a woman yearn for it?" Need spiraled through him at her words. Gods, was she going to bite him? Drink from him? He came at the thought of her fangs in his neck while he pumped into her hand, but she didn't seem at all put off by it. In fact, her breathing only increased.
Myrine released him and he groaned at the loss. "Don't you dare move."
Ah, she likes control. This wasn't too surprising considering she'd been mind-controlled so long. He doubted she'd ever give that up again, to anyone. Chrys had never been submissive, but he didn't mind letting a woman take charge in bed if that's what it took to get her off. He licked his lips as Myrine removed her boots and pants, but nothing above the waist. While he longed to have her naked against him, they were out in the open, exposed. "What if Destroyer comes back?"
"He won't. He uses a lot of energy to create fire. Has to go heal from the holes to his wings." She straddled him once more. "No more talk of dragons, Chrysander. I haven't had a good fuck in what feels like forever, and no mortals have been worth the effort. Since satyrs have endless stamina, I plan to get my fill."
He gripped her hips and eased her over his length. As he slid inside, she threw her head back, moaning. It didn't take her long to find her rhythm. Chrys groaned as he dug his hooves into the dirt and thrust into her. The skin on his back was tight and agonizing, but Myrine felt so good that the combination of pleasure and pain sent him careening into an orgasm.
She laughed huskily. "I'd be furious about that if you weren't a satyr."
"Is that all I am good for?" he asked, unsure if he meant it in a teasing fashion or not. He didn't intend on being a satyr forever if he could help it.
She met his gaze and her lips twitched into a smile. "I've seen how you look at me, Chrysander. Isn't this everything you've wanted since we met? You could stay here with me, my own personal plaything."
Gods, she was serious. It wasn't like he didn't use women all his life to take the edge off the curse, but he'd never had someone blatantly want him for sex only. It was shocking, certainly, but also kind of hot. What would she do though, keep him in that hole until it suited her?
He rolled them over and pinned her arms over her head, remaining inside. Her eyes widened for a moment and then she laughed. The sound tinkled through his blood and he kissed her. She stiffened beneath him and then opened to him. When he slipped his tongue in to tangle with hers, she met him stroke for stroke. As he pulled away, she caught his lip with her fang enough to draw blood.
His hips picked up the pace as she dragged him into another kiss, this one tinged with the coppery flavor of his blood. The knowledge that he
