She’d never felt so vulnerable.
She stared at the floor and waited.
And waited.
Long enough her shoulders started to ache and her hips felt the harsh steel she was bent over. Long enough to wonder if they’d forgotten her. Perhaps this was some kind of initiation, or maybe a test.
So she waited. She heard no footsteps. Felt no air shift. But suddenly the door opened and closed, and a presence was behind her, silent and intense.
A cool hand brushed over her lower back, and then came words in an odd accent. “Pleasure or pain.”
She swallowed. “Pleasure.”
She heard him undress. Heard the armoire open and close, footsteps return. He folded his cool body over hers, and she felt his erection on top of her butt.
Teeth pierced her skin, between her ear and shoulder. An instant of pain, and then heat arrowed through her veins and arteries in dizzy, spiraling need that flooded her clit with a pulsing demand she couldn’t ignore. Her mouth opened on a gasp, and she barely caught herself before moaning.
And then the vampire shoved into her ass. No prep, no teasing. A single thrust and he was inside, but the venom in her bloodstream made itglorious. She wanted more from him. More friction, rougher use, more stretch. More pleasure.
She could only hear flesh slapping flesh, her own rapid heartbeat thundering through her veins, and the sounds ofher breathing. It was like being fucked by a statue, something carved from old marble and ancient arrogance.
And still, her body responded.
She needed to orgasm so bad she nearly begged for relief, but she clamped her mouth shut. Not because the rules said not to speak, but because dragons do notbeg. It was bad enough she’d had to lean over to be a feed-and-fuck for a vampire.
She didn’t manage an orgasm until his teeth were inside her again, but first, he drank — his teeth deep in her neck, sucking her blood, his lips sealed around her flesh. And then, just before he removed his teeth, fire in her veins, and then her orgasm hit like a tornado ripping through a damned trailer park. Like her Aunt Mab sharing her orgasm with everyone at the ball. Or like her Aunt Kirsten sharing her orgasms with all of Alfheim. Violent pleasure detonated through her body in a brutal, endless series of waves while she shook apart on the two bars, and while he emptied himself in her ass.
And then he was across the room, using a baby wipe, then dressing. Two minutes later, the door closed, and she was alone with echoes of the orgasm still radiating through her insides.
Nothank you. Nogoodbye.
Just emptiness behind her, and jizz threatening to leak from her ass.
She dressed slowly. Not angry, and not ashamed, but … unsettled. She’d been food. Not a partner, not a woman. Barely more than an object. Just …food.
Nothing more than blood, flesh, and a hole to fuck.
But it hadn’t been terrible. The orgasm had been phenomenal, and it isn’t like she hadn’t fucked vampires before. Hell, that was the reason she’d agreed to this, because vampire sex is fucking awesome.
But she hadn’t counted on being athing. She’d had romantic notions about how it would be, and this hadnotbeen what she’d expected.
But Spence had said some would order her to their room. She wasn’t always going to be on the fucking station.
She returned to her room and showered, and then thumbed her phone awake to start a list of things she’d need to buy when she got her first paycheck. Hair dryer, towels, and a laundry basket, to start, since she’d been living out of a suitcase for months. She dried with a clean T-shirt.
She stared at herself naked in the mirror, and her gaze landed on her belly button ring, with just enough silver to keep the hole from healing. She had to pierce herself again when shechangedto dragon, since she came back to human healed. But she only got to fly in Faerie, and she hadn’t been in a while.
She needed to fly, though.
Dragons aren’t like most of the other shapeshifters, who consider themselves two-natured. A werewolf is a human who has a wolf he has to push down. Same with the birds, they have this inner animal they have to either hold down or let out.
Emmy is always the dragon, it’s just that sometimes she’s human-shaped and sometimes dragon-shaped.
She put her wet hair into a French braid, donned leggings and a crop top, and made her way to the kitchen.
Two people were already there, and a quick sniff told her the guy was a deer shifter and the woman an eagle, though she couldn’t be certain what kind. One of the big ones, though.
The guy was probably mid-twenties with shaggy brown hair, strong forearms, and the nervous energy of someone who moves like a prey animal even when relaxed. He had a massive bowl of greens in front of him and was slicing cucumbers with ridiculous precision. Carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower were waiting to be cut.
