Loyalty: A Dragon Shifter Menage Serial (Seeking Her Mates Book 4) Read online

  Conor’s thumb traced a line along her shaved flesh, caressing the area around her swelling clit, asking Here?

  That’s good. But more…

  Here? He slid the tip downwards on the other side, so that he’d outlined her opening, just barely avoiding contact with her clit.

  A little to the left…

  He dipped his thumb into her, a fountain pen dousing itself in ink, and then extracted it, drawing a line along her opening, upwards, until it made contact with the bundle of nerves that caused her back to arch under his touch, eyes slamming shut.

  Yes.

  He kneaded her gently, thumb digging in, reminding her just how sensitive she was as he moved in small spirals against her, his cock hardening to painful levels. Lord, he wanted to infiltrate her.

  I’m going to do a few things to you, Lilliana. I’m going to get down between your thighs and shove my mouth into your perfect pussy. I will fuck you a little with my tongue, which will make you squirm. And then I’ll lick you, and suck a little on this…with those words, he deepened the pressure of his thumb’s tip. I’m going to read your mind, feel you approach your orgasm as though it were my own. And when you come, I am going to have to peel off my trousers and fuck you with the cock that’s now in agony, dreaming about your tightness.

  Lily couldn’t think of words to express a response. Instead her eyes, their many colours dancing in a spectrum of light, invited him to do with her anything that he willed. Words, for once, were unnecessary.

  Conor knelt between her knees, the gentle rocking of the train causing his body to sway in shallow waves as he showed her what he’d described.

  At first his tongue dabbled as his fingers pulled at her lips, exposing her delicacy to him, and as she looked down at his wild hair, his closed eyes and his expert tongue, she felt herself tighten and swell under his touch.

  Only the tip of his tongue touched her, almost timidly, once, twice, as her entire body shuddered, every nerve center aimed at this one place. And so he did it again, enjoying her helplessness as he tasted her once more, this time flattening his tongue against her, lapping at her delicious opening, his tip slightly penetrating her to remind her of what was coming once he’d satisfied her.

  Her fingers went to his thick hair, twisting themselves in and holding his head, not forcing, but maintaining, as though to insist upon more of the same perfection.

  And he obliged, moaning with pleasure at her taste and texture; her perfect wetness, the dewy petals which responded so well and so loyally to his touch.

  He nuzzled her now with his lips, taunting her flesh as she squirmed in her seat. She revelled in her own nakedness, in the knowledge that her other lover was just outside the door, awaiting his turn, and no doubt finding ways to turn away anyone who wanted entry. Entry to her domain would be for the two men only; they had proven themselves worthy.

  It was when Conor’s lips tugged at her that she began to surrender to the sensation, to feel herself submerged in liquid, floating, as though moving to another time and place isolated from every concern in the universe. If only life could remain so carefree…

  Gently he pulled on her, his lips taking her in, his tongue stroking her rapidly, and then his fingers were working her again, sliding over her slick chasm, seeking entry. She welcomed them by tightening as they penetrated her, squeezing them together as her body neared climax.

  “Don’t hate me if I come,” she breathed, her words a hoarse whisper. “I want you so much…”

  In response Conor slowed his pace, easing his fingers out and in again as he stroked at her bud, relentlessly urging her towards orgasm, both for what it would mean for her and for him.

  As he felt her muscles grasp him in the first swell, he kept his mouth on her and pulled his fingers out, reaching quietly down to undo his trousers. His thick shaft was threatening to burst through, and needed badly to find its home inside her.

  As he ate her, he managed to pull them off, down over his feet, throwing his shoes into a corner. She came in waves, wanting to laugh at his acrobatics but helpless to even consider movement; he had her trapped inside her own body, each surge increasing in intensity.

  This time Conor didn’t ask permission; he got onto his knees and plunged inside her as she continued to come, the next pulse engulfing his swollen cock as he thrust inside, her body milking his already.

  He groaned at the sensation, warning his tight balls not to betray him by releasing too soon. She was so, so tight for him; so ready.

  He lifted her feet over his shoulders and rose, crouching before her, plunging into her once more as she stifled a cry.

  “Hard,” she said. “You can take me so hard.”

  With that he pulled back and launched himself into her once again, eyes locked on hers. Much as her body was perfection it was her face that truly aroused him; that was the cause of all of the blood in his own body rushing to the cock which ached inside her, wanted to unleash its heat within that beautiful form.

  It was the intelligence in her eyes; the mischief, the humour, the determination in her that he…loved.

  Yes, loved.

  He pounded her now, fast and furious, rebelling against the word as though physical power would subdue it, take away its strength. Love meant potential pain. Love meant loss. This moment was about pleasure; pure, animal pleasure, the creature inside him letting a tremendous roar as the dragon’s fingers came around to his back and raked at his flesh, her nails leaving parallel red evidence of their passion.

  “Lilliana,” he moaned as he rammed his body into hers, her arms wrapped around his neck now. “I…”

  As his mind went to the place that he’d been avoiding his body took over, his cock explosive, insistent, white heat rising within Lily’s body as he came in waves of his own.

  He pulled back now and took in her face, she his; sweat beading, eyes wild. Lust had, for a moment, replaced love.

  Lust couldn’t kill.

  Love could. At least it felt like it.

  Lily laid hands on each of his cheeks and he wondered if she had read his mind; if she knew how much he’d wanted to say it.

  “You,” she said simply.

  He let her slip her legs down but stayed within her, moving in to embrace her beautiful, curvaceous white form; the belly which would one day house their young. The breasts which fed his hunger. And he knew that this, above every other place or time in the universe, was his home.

  * * *

  Graeme remained on guard in the hallway, pacing slowly up and down its length as he studied the layout of the train car: the luggage racks at either end, the connections between cars which allowed people to move freely between them, the happy absence of other passengers.

  At one point as Graeme stood near the front of the car, a man in casual clothing opened the door at the far end, seeming to have every intention of wandering through to the place where he stood and beyond, no doubt on a simple exploratory mission as Graeme himself was engaged in.

  The dragon shifter considered for a moment attempting to use his growing talent for telekinesis to stop him in his tracks. But the poor human would be confused and probably frightened if he were paralyzed for no apparent reason. More entertaining might be to play a little mind trick; the question was whether or not Graeme possessed the necessary skill set to accomplish it.

  You want to turn back, he said, focusing on the man’s face as his own piercing eyes studied the stranger, the words taking on a clarity in his own mind. You don’t even know why you’re here. Something you left behind at your seat is important, and besides, this car smells like rotting eggs.

  The man, dazed, scrunched his face in disgust as though he’d just walked into a garbage dump, turned around, closing the door behind him, and returned the way he’d come without further consideration.

  “Well, that’s new,” murmured Graeme, grinning. Merriman had mentioned more than once how easily manipulated humans were. But this was the first time Graeme had managed to incorporate
a new mental power, gained from Conor, and his own assertiveness. He wondered how else he could use this gift.

  The door behind him slid open and a slightly-more-disheveled-than-usual Conor eased out, a contented grin on his face.

  “You’re up,” he said, slapping his friend on the back. “Oh, and I’d tell you to be gentle with her, but I don’t think she’s in the mood.”

  5

  Graeme slid into the chamber and found Lily sitting in wait, her clothing loosely draped over her in case someone other than him should peek in.

  “Hello, Firebird,” he said as he stared down at her. She had the pleasing look of a disheveled lover about her, and Graeme wondered if he was odd not to find it unpleasant that she’d just been with another man.

  “Hello, my Dragon,” she replied, chin down, her eyes shyly looking up at his. So different, her two men: the one with such wild, dark hair, the other such an odd mixture of red hair, light eyes and swarthiness. How could two such opposite looks be so equally enticing?

  When she was confident that the door was tightly sealed, Lily stood, allowing the clothing to slip off onto the floor before her, revealing her shapely body to him, the hint of shine between her legs from the events that had preceded Graeme’s visit, which only served to arouse him further.

  She fixed her gaze on Graeme’s and took his arms, lifting them above his head. He put up little resistance, curious as to her motives.

  A moment later his fingers were clasped around the cylindrical metal tubes which acted as shelves above the seats.

  “Stay like that,” Lily said quietly as she eased up onto her toes and kissed him, their velvet tongues meeting hungrily.

  “I’ll do whatever you would like, my cwen,” he moaned when she’d pulled away.

  “Cwen,” she said, smiling. “I haven’t heard that word in such a long time, and never to address me.” It was the old English for queen, the title that her mother’s mates had long since bestowed upon her.

  “It’s what you are,” said Graeme, a hand reaching down, its index finger eager to explore a protruding nipple.

  “Uh uh,” she said, grabbing his wrist and once again pulling it upward. “Stay, I said.” Again, his hand fastened itself to the bars.

  Lily’s fingers played for a moment with the front of his trousers, seeking his arousal. As they found what they sought she sighed, her eyes closing as her fingers massaged his engorged length through his jeans.

  She could feel his hot breath on her skin as he held in his desire to take her in his arms, to thrust her back into her seat and ravage her, exploring her white body with his tongue, tasting her salt flesh. She wanted at him, he knew; to control him, and she was testing his dragon to see if it would allow her own such pleasures.

  And so he gripped the rails, the tendons in his wrists tightly pronounced as he allowed her to take her time, two fingers sliding his fly downwards, a hand slipping into the opening and finding his bare skin, his engorged shaft twitching under her touch.

  Lily knelt before him, more in command than in supplication, and pulled his trousers down to the floor as Graeme allowed himself a loud exhale.

  No words were spoken as Lily’s eyes looked up to his and took in his face, its square, stubbled jaw strong and determined as always as he resisted any desire to take control himself of the naked woman within the reach of his fingertips, her sweet, firm nipples ripe as strawberries and begging for a set of lips to suck on them.

  No. He would let her have her way. And he would bloody well enjoy it.

  * * *

  She knew his struggle; she could feel it within him, and it pleased her to no end to lick his shaft, beginning at its base and allowing her tongue to run its length until it came to rest on the swollen head, which she tackled with delicacy. Its shade deepened as she caressed it with the underside of her tongue, then pursing full lips around and sucking at first so gently that she wondered if he could feel it.

  She took pleasure, too, in the knowledge that he could see her full breasts and her backside below him, white, round, tantalizing. His body would be aching to penetrate her, but she wouldn’t allow it; not right now. She wanted only to taste him, to drink him in, nectar which she would earn through expert exploration of his body.

  Slowly she eased his thickness into her mouth, inch by inch. She could feel him hesitate, afraid to fill her so much that she lost the ability to breathe, but somehow she managed to slide her lips to his base, her tongue working him inside her mouth, hidden from view, probing his veins, revelling under the quick pulses as more blood rushed to that place.

  One hand left the railing as he put it lightly on the back of her head, tangling it in her long hair and directing her, his one attempt at control as he pulled his pelvis back, extracting himself, and then forward as he showed her what he wanted.

  Her hand went to his shaft, now slick and wet, and she slid over him in long, slow strokes, her lips always working with them in synchronicity. Between her legs signals were firing off, telling her that once again she could have a beautiful thick cock inside her, but she shut them down, reminding her body that there were other pleasure centers to see to.

  Graeme moved in slow, even thrusts, making love to her lips, her tongue, watching as she so beautifully tended his every need. The hand which had entwined itself in her hair remained there and she loved it; the feeling of their perfect understanding of one another.

  “Lilliana,” he whispered as her lips slid down his length once more. He could feel his balls tighten as her mouth approached them, agonizing and delicious.

  She replied only with a brief moan.

  “I’m going to come in your mouth,” he managed, his eyes closing tightly. “Is that what you want from me?”

  Again, words were unnecessary as her hand tightened slightly around him, milking him as her mouth was doing, urging the inevitable outcome.

  When it happened her eyes closed too, as she felt him explode and one pulse, then another and another of hot liquid shot to the back of her throat as his entire body seemed to convulse in quiet pleasure. He dropped his second hand now, holding her head steady as he came; it felt as though it lasted for days, and he felt her swallowing him, drinking him in as though dying of thirst.

  At last the pulses subsided and he released her, her tongue cleaning him, licking at his delicate slit to gather the remaining evidence of his beautiful orgasm, and he watched her in wonder.

  “You are extraordinary,” he said.

  “As are you,” she replied, licking her lips as she looked up at him. “And you taste so bloody good.”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “You’re not so bad yourself. I’ve a good mind to flip you upside-down and eat you out right now.”

  “You would, too,” she said before landing a soft kiss on the top of his left thigh.

  “Yes, I would. You’ve left me satisfied yet hungry. You are the worst sort of temptress—one who renders a man perpetually filled with desire.”

  “Are you complaining, Lord Graeme?” Lily said, rising at last to her feet, her knees a deep shade of pink.

  He leaned down and kissed the tip of one nipple, then the other.

  “How could I complain about perfection?” he asked.

  Then he kissed her long and hard, his tongue receiving his the sweetness of his own flavour, which still coated her own tongue.

  “Dear God,” she said a moment later. “Did I just feel your cock twitch again?” Looking down, she saw that it was doing just that: filling once again with blood, signalling that it still wanted her.

  “Oh, that,” he replied. “That’s only because I want to fuck you now.”

  And once again, Lily wondered how her life had come to be such utter perfection, and why it was that they were headed to Scotland, instead of to a beach in the Caribbean where they could spend days on end making blood flow to one another’s most sensitive bits.

  “Save that thought for later,” she laughed, turning to her clothing. “I suppose we should s
pend a little bit of this ride in our clothing.”

  “My Lady, I cannot agree with you. But I will do as you please, because, let’s face it: you just made me come in your mouth.”

  6

  After several hours, Edinburgh appeared on the horizon, a dark grey mirage revealed under the dense layer of the dark cloud that seemed to follow the three companions everywhere they went. They could see its ancient buildings in the distance; elegant outlines, tall, angular towers attached to fortress-like structures, hostile and welcoming at once. None of the dark façades seemed to call out in greeting but rather to offer concealment behind thick walls, impenetrable and powerful; the perfect location for a covert group of shifters to congregate.

  In spite of a sort of grim darkness, the ancient buildings exuded a rare type of beauty; that which comes with age and craftsmanship.

  “I expect that we’ll pull into the station in about ten minutes,” said Conor, who was facing forward, watching their approach through the window. Lily sat facing him, a contented grin on her face as she slowly recovered from the pleasures of her human flesh. She too let her eyes move to the outdoors, the outskirts of the city beginning to build up behind them under the heavy sunless sky.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spied movement in the clouds above: a seagull, perhaps, though it would be rather far inland. No. This was something larger: a vulture, flying about under the low covering. She could see it now, its wingtips spread as it flew in uneven circles, inspecting the world below.

  “That’s strange,” she said, slowly registering its movements. As she spoke the bird seemed to dive, a manoeuvre which was uncommon for vultures, known more for profiting off the kills of others than for attacking stray animals. Speed was not their strength, after all.

  “What is it?” asked Graeme, leaning over to take a look.

  “A vulture,” she said. “He must have seen something down here.” As she spoke the words, she felt her mind at work once again, recalling who and where she was. A dragon shifter, the target of many a living creature; not a simple human woman riding a train in a state of bliss. The fire-breather inside her began to pace, impatient with her failure to react rapidly, aching to make an appearance to pre-emptively take on any threat coming at them.