Dragon Seeker, Part Three Read online

  He knew how good this was.

  * * *

  As his fingers moved to push into her again, Lyre stroked his tongue over her folds, savouring the complexity of her flavours. Blood surged to the place between his legs and he savoured that, too. A pulsing, painful ache that she would soon relieve, just as she’d made so many hurts fade since they’d met. She’d become his cure-all, his panacea. His everything. He would tell her one day; he’d find the words to let her know what she really meant to him.

  But for now, it would be his body that spoke for him, a pleasure-seeking interpreter. He’d show her how he felt and she’d feel his desire deep inside, his desperation to be close to her, to give everything he had. Claiming his lover and offering himself at once.

  Trix leaned back on the bed, lifting her legs over his shoulders when he knelt down in front of her. He took her thighs in hand, and when she wrapped her calves around his neck he sucked her bud between his lips. He couldn’t hear her cry, but he felt it deep in his chest, vibrating even as his Dragon let out a low, responsive growl. He could feel the words as they moved through her body: Yes, yes, yes. The invasive silence of his world didn’t matter as long as their bodies were in contact. Every pulse from hers was a communication. Every twitch, every thrust of her hips was a gesture of approval.

  When he felt the first wave of orgasm hit her body hard, he thrust two fingers deep inside her to feel her pulse around him. A loud groan escaped his lips as he lapped at her, her legs trembling around his shoulders. However good it felt for her to come, he felt it too. Her ecstasy moved through him like a shot of perfect bliss. Good lord, woman. What you do to me.

  He didn’t let up until the tension in her body had released completely, her calves and thighs loosening their grip around his neck and shoulders. Then, dragging the back of his wrist over his chin he rose to stand over her, holding her legs on either side of his hips.

  “Are you ready for me?” he mouthed.

  She nodded. So ready.

  Lyre’s erection pressed gently at her opening. For a moment she closed her eyes, anticipating the exquisite agony that would come when he moved into her.

  But to her own surprise she pressed her hands to his chest to stop him, opening her eyes.

  “Wait,” she said, her fingers slipping down his six-pack. “I want to take it slowly for a minute. Let me show you what I need.”

  Delicately, her fingers slipped over his hips and she directed him forward, pulling him inside her inch by glorious inch. She needed to register every reaction of every nerve in her body. She was going to hold onto this feeling if times grew dark in the hours after dawn. She was going to remember perfection.

  This was everything in the world.

  Lyre bent down to kiss her before easing down to take her right nipple between his lips. As he pressed his pelvis into her he sucked, eliciting a hard roll of her hips another glorious wave of pleasure hit her.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned against him, feeling as though he was somehow drawing out her ecstasy. “I feel like I’m still coming, you incredible, sexy thing.”

  He pulled up for a second and then ran his tongue over the tip of her left nipple, teasing it into the hardest red peak. Again, she felt herself contract hard around his shaft. He drew his body upwards, his eyes slamming shut with the sensation of her tightness around him, and he shot his hips forward, driving his full length deep into her.

  Trix cried out, not much caring if there were guests in the adjacent rooms. She couldn’t help herself; Lyre was too big, too wonderful for her to keep silent about this. She wanted the world to know what he was doing to her. Her ecstasy should be shouted from the rooftops. My lover is half man, half Dragon and one hundred percent fucking amazing.

  “Open your eyes,” she asked him silently. “Look at me.”

  He obeyed, staring down at her again, a broad smile spreading like wildfire across his features.

  “I did want to go slow,” she said, “but there’s also a part of me that wants you to take me harder than you ever have. I want to feel everything in the world, all at once.”

  He pulled back, his cock all but slipping out of her, and asked, “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. Yes.

  He tore back into her once, hard. She let out a fierce yell.

  “More,” she pleaded. “Harder.”

  “I don’t want to break you,” he told her, withdrawing again.

  “You won’t.”

  “Then would you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  Lyre took her left hand and, guiding her, turned her over so that she was on her hands and knees in front of him, her hourglass waist the centre of his entire universe. He grabbed her hips with both hands and thrust deep and hard, inspiring a cry that he felt through his entire body. Again and again he tore into her, slamming his cock into her depths like a battering ram.

  It was the most beautiful, most devastatingly wonderful pain she’d ever felt.

  His pace quickened when she called out to his mind asking for even more intensity, for more force. She wanted him to test her, to weaken her. Because somehow it felt like the only way to gain enough strength for what was to come. She needed to claim him in the most aggressive way, to make sure that she would never lose him.

  Needed him to be so deep inside her that she would always feel him there.

  When he exploded heat over her insides, she just barely managed to hold herself up with her muscular arms, but somehow she found the strength. She waited for him to wrap his arms around her waist, for his cheek to press itself into her shoulder. To feel their bond utterly renewed. And as soon as she felt him there, her fear was gone.

  For now, at least.

  * * *

  “Lyre,” she said a half hour later, stroking an idle finger over the muscles on his back as he lay, spent, on his stomach next to her, “Why are there four Relics?”

  “They represent the elements,” he told her. “Water, Air, Fire, Earth. The Dragons have certain strengths, certain weaknesses. But when the Relics are brought together, it’s said that we all gather the strength of the four elements. So, each Dragon becomes stronger for it.”

  “So why were the Relics ever hidden in the first place? Why didn’t the Dragon shifters just store them somewhere safe?”

  Lyre smiled at his Seeker, pushing a red curl off her forehead. “Think of them like nuclear weapons. A deterrent. You don’t just want them accessible to anyone; they’re too powerful. They’re an emergency measure. We never thought we’d need them, I suppose. But with the Forsaken about…”

  “They are the Dragons’ best chance,” Trix said. “I see.”

  “But let’s not talk about such things right now,” he said, kissing the mess of hair where her part should have been. “Let me tell you a little about our house.”

  “Our house?” she said.

  “Yes. The place I hope you’ll live in with me.”

  Trix laughed. “I’d live in a cardboard box with you. But okay, I’ll bite. Tell me about this incredible dwelling of ours.”

  “Well,” he said, flipping over to lie on his back, fingers intertwining behind his head, “It’s enormous, like me. But it’s actually too big for one man, even if he’s an enormous Dragon shifter.” He turned his head to look at her. “But not too big for a family.”

  “For a family?” she said. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “That depends…what do you think I’m saying?”

  “That you’re somehow miraculously going to learn how to give birth and we’re going to have seventeen beautiful children, none of which come out of me.”

  “Are you saying you would rather not have kids?” he asked. For a moment he looked stricken.

  “Not at all,” she told him, smiling as she stroked his chest. “I can’t imagine anything more incredible, in fact.” Even after all their many hours of intimacy, the thought of creating life with Lyre was still more beautiful than any moment they�
��d had. Such an expression of love would be more powerful, more wonderful than words could say.

  “Neither can I,” he replied.

  “I wonder what my parents would think of part-Dragon grandchildren,” Trix mused, only half joking.

  “You don’t talk about your parents very much. Tell me about them.”

  “What are you, my shrink?” she said out loud, chuckling.

  “Possibly. How does that make you feel?”

  Trix snickered again. “I’m an only child, and my parents are great. They were always supportive of me, even when I told them I wanted to move to London.”

  “Do they know what you do for a living?”

  “That I kill Lapsed and assorted bad guys? No,” Trix laughed. “I was always a fairly girly girl. I don’t suppose they picture me as a Hunter. Though they did let me take fencing lessons when I was younger, and I was very good at it.”

  “So they know you like swords.”

  “Yes. They know. Although they don’t know how much I love your long, thick, hard sword.”

  Lyre let out a signature chuckle. “Probably a good thing, that.”

  “Probably. Anyhow, they’d love you. Of course at first, they’d have trouble with sign language. Old dogs, new tricks and all that.”

  “I’ll find a way to teach them,” he told her, his fingers twining in a curl of red hair that was cascading over her shoulder. “It would be my pleasure.”

  “Do you ever think about speaking out loud more often?” she asked. “I mean, not that you need to. It’s just…I love your voice.”

  He fixed her with his gaze, a grimace on his face. “No, not really.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know how everyone hates their voice when they hear it on a recording?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’ve never so much as heard my adult voice, recording or not. I can only assume that I sound like a cat being choked with a chainsaw when I speak. It’s hard to find my confidence, I suppose.”

  “You don’t sound like a cat,” Trix told him. “You have a lovely voice. Deep, masculine, sexy and warm.”

  “So you tell me. But you must understand why I’m self-conscious.”

  “I do. But someday maybe you’ll know how much I love hearing you. And perhaps when you know how much pleasure it gives me…”

  Lyre propped himself up on one arm, leaned in and kissed her forehead. “For you I would do anything, my Beatrix. I promise I’ll speak to you when the time is right.”

  “Fair enough.” She put her head down and closed her eyes. “That’s two promises now, you realize.”

  “Two?”

  “You promised you’d speak to Minach soon, too.”

  “And I’ll keep that promise. I promise, even.” He winked.

  “Cheeky monkey. You know that you’re the best man I’ve ever known, right?”

  Lyre didn’t answer. Instead, he watched her drift off to sleep, her hand on his chest, and wondered how he’d ever gotten so lucky.

  Into the Abyss

  At four a.m. the alarm on Trix’s mobile went off, chiming a soft but impressively infuriating flute melody. She reached a lazy hand out, cursing the delicate sound as her fingers made contact with the glowing screen to shut it down. It was way too damned early for any sane person to open their eyes.

  But as her mind began to stir, her body stiffened, leaping to an instant state of alertness. For a moment she’d forgotten where she was and why. Now her eyes darted around their room, her mind recalling everything—why she and Lyre were in this place, and what they needed to do. All of the innkeeper’s and the old man’s warnings came flooding back to her in one violent torrent, reminding her what she and Lyre might face today.

  You’re a Seeker, she whispered, rising from her side of the bed, reminding herself of the task ahead of her. She needed to find the Relic, for the Dragons. She needed to live out her fate. But as she turned to look at Lyre’s still sleeping face, she grimaced at the dark feelings simmering her insides, all foreboding and anxiety over what might befall them within the next few hours.

  Stop it. This is nothing but fear of the unknown, she reminded herself. Once we see what we’re up against, we’ll be fine. Together we can take on anyone and anything.

  But try as she might, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that this day was going to be a hard one, and something told her that she and Lyre needed to stay very close together.

  A soft moan came from the shifter’s mouth as he stirred, a muscular arm reaching across the half-empty bed to search for her. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight; he looked so calm, so comfortable. So lacking in stress or fear. Slowly she eased herself down on the edge of the bed, reaching for his hand, which grasped hers firmly as his eyes popped open. He smiled up at her when he met her gaze, stretching his free arm over his head.

  “Good morning,” he mouthed, nearly whispering the words. Maybe someday she’d hear his voice again. “My beautiful Beatrix.”

  “Good morning, my sexy Dragon,” she replied, her smile fading fast.

  “What’s wrong?” His words immediately penetrated her mind as he propped himself up on one arm, studying her face. For a moment she wanted to tell him about her deepest fears. But to do so would make them seem too real, too close. So she blocked them from her mind, shunning the thoughts. Be positive. Be strong.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Just thinking about what might happen today. Who might be waiting, the unknown.”

  As he read her lips, he smiled again, reassuring her with his warmth. He pulled her hand hard, yanking her body down on top of his as she let out a much-needed laugh.

  “The unknown doesn’t matter,” his voice told her. “It’s the known that’s important. The known is that I adore you, and that at the end of today, I’ll still adore you. Possibly even more than I do now.”

  Trix pulled back to look down at him, reading his expression. Yes, he really meant it. But as though to offer extra reassurance, he signed the sentence he’d taught her the previous night.

  I’m with you.

  I’m with you, she signed back.

  “Remember that, and we’ll be fine.” His words floated into her mind as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

  If only she shared his confidence.

  * * *

  After scarfing down some energy bars that they’d brought with them from London and taking quick turns showering, the two set off for Glastonbury Tor, leaving The Arthurian, its warm interior and pleasant innkeeper behind them. They walked in silence for some time, neither wishing to discuss what might be ahead. Instead, they opted for normalcy. Pretending this was simply a lovely morning hike and nothing more. As they made their way up the steep hill towards the tower, they looked like nothing more than a young couple in love, silent in their contemplation of their surroundings.

  The only odd thing about them, of course, was the rather conspicuous sword hilt jutting out of the sheath at the Hunter’s back. As for the extremely handsome, large, and powerful man at her side, he might have drawn a few eyes had it not been so bloody early in the morning.

  “So,” Trix communicated silently as she looked up towards the imposing structure at the hill’s summit, “I suppose it really is too much to hope that the Relic is on the outside of the tower? Embedded somewhere in the stone, like the first one was?”

  “Probably. But wouldn’t it be a nice surprise?” Lyre’s internal reply came as he squeezed her hand, his eyes scanning the structure from top to bottom. “Our job would be so simple, over almost before we’d begun it. But as I told you, I suspect that there will be a challenge in this hunt. Remember that those who hid the Relics wanted them to be difficult to discover. Otherwise our enemies might just find their way to them.”

  “True.” As Trix conveyed the word mentally, she let out a deep sigh.

  When they came close to the tower’s base, she found herself halting to examine its exterior. As though a telescopic lens had somehow atta
ched itself to her retinas, she felt suddenly as though she could take in every little crack in the mortar between the layers of stone making up the structure’s height. If the Relic was here, there was no way she’d miss it, anyhow; not with the vision gifted to her by a Dragon shifter.

  At the base of the Tor was the tall, arching doorway that appeared at first to lead to nowhere but the other side. No doubt it had originally led into a church, but now all that stood was the tower itself. “Like a gateway,” Trix whispered as she stepped through to find herself shadowed by high, slightly angled walls, her eyes led upwards by a warm beam of light pouring in from the structure’s open top. Blue sky greeted her from above. “There’s no roof,” she said silently, her voice making its way into Lyre’s mind once again. “No…anything. It’s just a hollow shaft.”

  He responded with a nod, his dark mane sweeping around his features as he pulled his chin up to look. A series of glassless windows embedded in the walls were the tower’s only ornamentation, allowing the odd vertical strip of light to pour through, dull beams of sunshine illuminating the interior.

  They looked around for a few minutes before Trix recalled what the innkeeper had told her about the questions the strangers had been asking the previous day. “There’s nothing here,” she said. “But I wonder if we need to somehow find our way underground.” Her voice was still confined to her mind, in case anyone was around who might hear them. “Maybe there’s something to the legend of the labyrinth under the grass, after all.” Her eyes moved to the floor, which was made up of large rectangular slabs of stone. She scanned each of them, at first dismayed not to see anything that might offer her a clue. But as she shuffled her feet slowly, examining one slab and then the next, her eyes locked on the uneven surface below her. After only a moment she reached for Lyre, grabbing his hand in hers.