She turned her head to meet his heated gaze. “Take me back to Bogberry Island, Vorik.”
There was power in her voice, a command. A mortal man without magic of his own might have jumped to obey, but he had his own power and the ability to resist. But did he trulywantto? He wanted…her.
“I will,” he caught himself saying, “but I need younow.”
He expected her to object, to try again to command him, but he slipped his fingers into her depths, and she nodded eagerly and kissed him again. She shifted her ass against his cock, and he couldn’t restrain his desire any longer. He had to?—
Three dragons approach from behind,Agrevlari stated without commenting on anything else.
Irritation flashed in Vorik, and he guessed who they were even before Agrevlari expounded.
Ozlemar is in the lead with Jhiton.
Vorik groaned, realizing he couldn’t do anything now but continue on to the camp and hand Syla over to be a prisoner. To be interrogated.
How far back are they?Vorik asked, wondering if he at least had time to bring Syla to a climax, even if he couldn’t sate himself. Maybe if he left her trembling with pleasure, she would be less likely to hate him over whatever happened in the camp.
Not far. The other dragons carry only one rider each, so they are catching up.
Damn it, Agrevlari. I’m trying to?—
Effect a mating session on my back, which, as I’ve informed you before, is not permitted.
We weren’t going to mate. Only?—
You are stimulating her sex orifice, and you are intensely aroused. That leads to mating.
Oh, how Vorik wished it would. That itcould.
But when he looked back, he saw Ozlemar and two blue dragons with riders flying after them. With Syla breathing heavily in his arms, pushing into his hand and rocking back against him, Vorik was tempted to satisfy her before the others caught up, but she wouldn’t appreciate it if Jhiton flew up beside them and looked over while her dress was hiked up, her cheeks were flushed, and she was groaning with desire as she writhed in Vorik’s grip.
She may have sensed their approach, regardless, because she lifted her head from Vorik’s shoulder and looked behind them.
“We’re about to have company.” Struggling to cool his desire, Vorik made himself push her dress down.
Syla groaned when she spotted the dragons. This time, it had nothing to do with desire.
“Is that your general?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She bared her teeth.
“I’m sure he’s delighted to see you too.” Vorik lifted a hand toward Jhiton, who nodded back at him. They were far enough apart that Jhiton’s face was hard to read—though that was often the case when they were three feet apart too. Vorik hoped his brother hadn’t gotten the gist of what was going on but worried his lack of a telepathic greeting before arriving meant he had.
“I suppose it’s not regal to hiss at one’s foe.” Syla glanced down and must have noticed the laces on her dress were loosened for she cursed and shrank back into Vorik to use him to block Jhiton’s view as she tied them more tightly. “Or to writhe in the hands of one’s enemies,” she added in a mutter, her cheeks flushed.
“You’re newly coronated,” Vorik said gently, wishing he could set her at ease but mostly regretting his choice to bring her. At the least, maybe he could use a touch of humor to distract her from her discomfort. “You can’t be expected to know all the rules, traditions, and customs right away. I bet your elders haven’t had time to instruct you on everything.”
“I wasborninto the monarchy. I know all the bylaws, and we have a constitution. I’ve read it before.”
“And it covers hissing and writhing?”
“It does not.”
“Then I thinkyouget to decide which actions are regal or not. Set the standard, if you will.”
The sour look she slanted him didn’t suggest she appreciated his humor.
