After grinding through our passionate kiss, Arach pulled back and got into position, grabbing the base of his cock to set the tip against me. Gently rocking, he split me, then slid in. His eyes closed briefly with pleasure and he pressed his hips forward even more, flattening my thighs to get as deep as possible. I wanted that as well. Instinct took over, and my legs wrapped around him, claws clicking against his scales, then hooking together.
With my eager response, Arach went wild, slamming into me. His savagery called to mine, and I could feel the fire rising inside me. Growling, I lifted my head. He bent his, knowing just what I needed. I gave Arach my fire, pushing it between his lips, and he drank it down like expensive wine, savoring every sip.
While he was distracted, I rolled him onto his back. Arach's eyes popped open in surprise. I grinned as I straddled him, already pumping on his cock, taking him even deeper. Snarling, Arach grabbed my waist and pulled down as he lifted his hips, trying to take charge again. I growled back and met those thrusts with downward slams. My body consumed his as if starved for him.
“We can't burn this bed,” I panted. “Don't lose control.”
Arach growled in response.
His hands swept up my torso to roughly grip my breasts. Even with their coating of scales, he could massage them. That's how flexible they were. The pleasure of it sent my head back, and I flung my arms behind me as well to prop myself on his shins. Arach growled, doubtless enjoying the show, and the pad of his thumb found its way to my swollen clit. He rubbed it firmly in time with my pumping and brought me over in a few seconds.
As I screamed and shuddered, he pulled a Vervain and rolled me. I flopped onto the bed, going into a rapturous spasm. My husband took further advantage of my state and moved me onto my belly, then yanked me up onto all-fours. Arach entered me swiftly from behind and once he was sheathed, he grabbed my horns and pulled. Grinning ear-to-ear, I arched my body and braced myself for his wild slams. Pleasure was already building again.
“So fucking wet,” Arach growled. “So tight. I can't . . .” He roared, the sound echoing in my ears as his hips locked up and his cock kicked inside me. My dragon purred like a cat to feel his hot release, instinct viewing it as our reward. And then my husband drew out and fell back on the bed.
I turned around with a feral grin and crawled between Arach's legs. Cracking open his eyes, he watched me. I bent my head, holding that bright stare, and gave his spent cock a long lick up its length. His whole body jerked. Growling, I sucked at the tip, then drew his flesh into me. I rolled it around in my mouth until Arach was writhing, his hands on my head, and his cock awakening.
“You are wondrous,” Arach whispered right before I mounted him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
We left our room around midday, striding down the corridors as if it were our castle. Fire Fey gasped and drew back to watch us pass by, even the guards. Weredragon form has that effect on people. We stopped to ask a Spriggan where the Earth King was and was told that King Rory was out touring the kingdom. Right. I'd forgotten about that.
Well, we were taking a tour as well.
Arach and I left Crith-Fuinn and instantly leapt into the sky, spreading our wings and bringing them down to gain height. Once we were above the treetops, we headed for the center of the realm—the Forgetful Forest. There, enormous trees ruled, their trunks expanding and compressing with every breath they took. Smaller trees, including many of the apple trees that were sacred for the Fey, grew in the forest as well, forming brighter clumps in meadows full of fey flowers.
Birds of magnificent plumage flew just above the trees, but dove for cover when we approached. Not many flew at our height anyway. Even the Air Sidhe kept to their kingdom, leaving this portion of the sky to Arach and me. And it certainly felt as if we ruled. But the royal trees of the Castle of Eight, growing higher than every other tree in the realm, made a lie of that feeling. Pennants waved from the topmost branches, exclaiming the true king of this little kingdom. The High King of all Faerie.
I didn't let it bother me. I wasn't a dragon who needed to rule everything. I had my own kingdom and king, and they suited me fine. And King Cian was generous. He wouldn't mind our flight over the Forgetful. As long as we didn't alarm the knights who stood guard on the living castle walls. I waved at them and turned about, leading Arach away from the Castle of Eight before they got upset. Best not to push our luck. Besides, there was always our kingdom to explore if we wished to fly further.
As if he could read my mind, Arach said, “Shall we visit Fire?”
I was about to say yes when I realized how wrong it would be to give our people a glimpse of me. Arach would have to explain my presence to them. And then he wouldn't be the only one waiting thousands of years to meet me.
“It will give them hope,” Arach said, again, reading my face expertly even though he hadn't known me for long.
“Are you sure?” I called over to him. “You'll have to explain who I am and where I've gone once I return to my time.”
“I can do that.” He turned toward Fire. “If you will shift into your full dragon form for me.”
I chuckled, wondering if that was what he'd been after all along. “You've got a deal.”
With a rush of magic, my body transformed, enlarging to an impossible magnitude. My wings kept beating, keeping me aloft while my dragon came forth. Wings that, despite their new size, shouldn't have been able to support me and yet did. And what a miraculous feeling it was to let my dragon loose. I stretched my neck as I shifted, then my back and legs. Pops and cracks accompanied a feeling of relief. And then I was fully shifted, the elation of being what I was filling me. Talk about a superiority complex. My dragon knew she was the best thing in Faerie. Next to our mate, of course.
Arach roared, the sound getting deeper as he shifted. His body enlarged, his half-shifted features filling out, moving into what they were meant to be. His magnificent horns now crowned the head of his blood-red dragon and more emerged, running down his back in a dangerous ridge. Membranous wings rolled thunder through the cloudless sky, and deadly claws rent the air, kneading like a cat. Oh, yes, this was my only match.
With joyous cries, we headed into the Fire Kingdom, swooping over the tops of the mountain range that enclosed Castle Aithinne and formed a barrier between the other kingdoms and Fire. Goblins on duty cried out and saluted, then stared at me in wonder, weapons falling from their limp hands. Cheers soon came and word spread faster than we could fly. Faeries poured out of the castle to see the Dragon King present his mate in the grandest way possible.
Fire Fey wept. They dropped to their knees to stare up at us in awe. They shouted and waved. They flooded the forests and plains. I roared and spun, performing aerial acrobatics for them. They hugged each other and laughed. It was magical. I just hoped this magic would sustain them through the years to come. Maybe it was better that Arach not bear that weight alone. Now, the whole kingdom would know the Queen would one day come. No, I would return.
Arach and I flew across the vast wedge of our kingdom lengthwise, then went along the width, going back and forth so that everyone in Fire could see us. He blew celebratory flames and roared with me, our savage hearts full of love for our fierce people and the brutal kingdom we ruled. And they returned that love in great measure.
By the time we crossed the Mountains of Serenity again, celebrations had broken out in every village in Fire. And the castle, well, it was alight and alive with joy. Fires burned and meat roasted over the flames. Faeries danced in and around the bonfires. Seeing them, I wondered if humans had been influenced by faeries as much as gods. There were hints of Beltane in the celebration.
“Come down with me,” Arach said. “Meet them.”
I hesitated.
