He was staring at her. Through her. Studying her. So close. Close enough to kiss. Why didn’t he kiss her? They were heading to the palace. She’d decided to come with him. Why not make his move?
A wolfish smile turned his lips, and Harlow had the strangest feeling he could read her mind. He spread his arms over the back of the bench, one hand sliding behind her shoulders. His long legs stretched across the carriage. “I know better,” he mumbled.
“You know better?” Her brow furrowed. “About what?”
Only his eyes moved in her direction. “I know better than to make the first move. I like my balls attached to my body.”
A nervous laugh bubbled from her throat. Was he seriously expecting her to come on to him? She checked herself. Why did it bother her so much if he was? The smile faded from her face as the truth barged into her mind like a mountain bear after his next meal. Part of her had wanted him to push her. She’d wanted the excuse of feeling pressured. It would make things so much easier if she regretted this tomorrow. She could blame him, the alcohol, anything but herself.
And he was calling her bluff. He was a man of honor. He didn’t take his women or pressure them into sex. And wasn’t that the sexiest thing she’d ever encountered?
He was studying her again, frowning. “I can tell the driver to turn around.”
She licked her lips. “That would be a tragedy.” She turned in her seat and slid her hand across his chest and under the collar of his shirt. She heard his breath hitch and preened at the thought of taking him apart and putting him back together. “I think a man who waits for me to take the lead is very sexy.”
Hiking her skirt, she lifted her leg and placed it over his, giving him an unobstructed view of her thigh. He made an inarguably male sound deep in his throat and slowly moved his hand to the space above her bare knee. She brushed his hand away, then pivoted in front of him, settling to her knees on the floor of the carriage, between his legs. She pressed both hands against his deliciously hard stomach. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes widened and his breath quickened.
Not so cool and collected now, are you? She was going to enjoy this.
Her hand slid lower to the sizable bulge inside his breeches. “Is this for me?” She cupped him, digging her fingers under his balls and gently dragging her palm toward the head of his hard length. Goddess, it just kept going. She swallowed down some trepidation at the size and stroked him again. He tried to lean forward to catch her mouth with his own, and she arched out of his reach. His lips twitched and he leaned back against the seat.
She licked her lips and stroked him again, then reached for his fly.
Chapter Twenty
Marius was the luckiest dragon in Paragon, and if he wasn’t careful, his cock was going to explode the moment Harlow touched him. Mountain, she was beautiful. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought she’d agree to come home with him. This wasn’t how he’d expected the night to go. But when Brantley had mentioned another man attempting to be with her, his dragon had leaped up and screamed mine inside his head. After that, he had no choice but to try.
He’d decided to leave it up to her.
He’d thought she’d say no.
She didn’t.
And wasn’t that even more surprising than being raised from the dead? Harlow could have anyone. Any dragon she chose. Why would she want him, with his strange scars and stranger history? Why would she risk giving herself to him?
She’d untied his fly, and her long, slender fingers closed around his shaft. Fuuuuck. He moaned and closed his eyes. The head of his cock pulsed with need. Goddess, he was close. Although dragons could perform multiple times for their females, coming all over her the first time she touched him was definitely not how he wanted to start this night off.
Stroking down to the base, she trailed her nails over his balls, then moved her grip up, twisting over the head. How did she know that was just the way he liked it? The pressure, the slow, languid strokes. It was like she was stoking his fire. In fact, he was putting off enough heat to steam the windows.
He reached for her again, wanting to touch her, wanting to make her feel like she was making him feel. But her golden gaze pinned him in place. If she didn’t want him to move, he wouldn’t move. If she wanted him to crawl across broken glass, he’d happily comply.
She held his gaze and gave him a slow, wicked grin. Then she lowered her head. Goddess, she wasn’t thinking of—
All conscious thought left him as she drew him into her mouth and slid her lips to the place where her hand still squeezed the base of his cock. His breath came in ragged pants. She swirled her tongue and sucked hard, slowly rising to the tip.
“Harlow… Fuck…” If she heard him, her only acknowledgment was the hot gold of her heavy-lidded stare as her head sank again, drawing him to the back of her throat. Her tongue stroked and swirled, and then that slow, steady suction caused his heart to pound against his ribs. His hips thrust forward of their own accord, and he forced them down into the seat. He didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t want to fuck her mouth before he’d even made love to her.
But she grabbed his hips and buried her face in his groin. He was so close to coming he could feel his bones throb with need. He watched her work between his legs, unable to look away as her head bobbed faster and the pleasure became a burning ache. Her velvet mouth drew him closer, his balls tightening.
And then she spread her wings.
One look at the smooth golden flesh and he was reduced to nothing but throbbing desire. He pitched over the edge, his orgasm powering through him. She sucked him in deeper as he came, her throat convulsing as she swallowed what he gave her. A growl tore from his chest along with a deep rattle that could only be his mating trill. He wondered if she heard it as she licked the last bit of come from the tip of his cock and smiled up at him with a look that was pure Harlow and could only be interpreted as I own you.
She prowled up his body and kissed him on the lips. “Okay, now you can turn the carriage around and take me home.”
His mouth dropped open. “You want to go home? Now?” The words sounded gritty, and he hated every syllable. The carriage rolled to a stop. She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him again.
“Hades no.” She laughed. “Not even a little bit.” Her eyes flashed the same color as her wings in the dark interior, and Marius was hard again in an instant. A thump indicated the driver had jumped down. He lifted her off him and set her down in the seat before fixing his fly and positioning himself across from her a fraction of a second before the door opened.
