“Damned straight you are.Fuck, I’ve needed your warmth.”
He fucked his boy a good ten minutes before slowing enough to lean forward and sink his teeth into the side of his neck and drink him down. He had access to dozens of exotic flavors, but nothing beat the taste of his own private werewolf, the man who held his heart.
He drank deeply, the flavors of salt air, sunshine, and happiness mingling with the kind soul and wild, loving spice that was his Spencer.
No anesthetic in his saliva today, no venom at all. Any pleasure Spencer got would be from the act of being fucked and drank down. Of being touched and consumed by the man he loved.
Zander telepathed,Permission, boy,and he snapped his hips harder, chasing his own climax while Spencer shookwith the mix of pain and pleasure, and caught his come in his hand.
When it was over, Zander licked the holes to heal them, pulled out and slid a handy plug into Spencer so he wouldn’t leak, and then turned him around and watched him lick the come from his Master’s hand.
“Good boy. I love you. Now go upstairs and eat. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Thank you, Sir. I needed that.” He leaned in for a hug, and Zander just held his boy. No time limit, he held him until he pulled away and reached for his clothes. Never did he want his boy to think hugs were doled out or needed permission.
Another kiss before Spencer left to go upstairs, and Zander returned to his desk, sated in every way, with a smile on his face.
Alone, Zander scrolled through the photos loaded from the day. Wildlife, glaciers, sea spray, sunshine. He appreciated the artistry, but there were so many pictures of Emerald.
Candid shots of her laughing beside Felix, their heads tipped toward each other in private conversation. A close-up of her smirking at the camera with her tongue pressed to a shard of glacier ice, with Felix pointing and clearly egging her on. One taken from a distance, the two of them under a blanket on the upper deck, shoulder to shoulder, their expressions turned inward in a way thatfelt almost tender.
Zander studied that one too long. The angle wasn’t ideal, but the mood was unmistakable. Intimate in the way only shared stillness could be.
And Emerald was clearly holding Felix. She was the dominant, he the submissive. She’s stronger, more powerful. More magical.
Fuck. She’s a damned princess, second in line behind King of the Dragons. First of the triplets to hatch.
What would it take for a man to hold her as the dominant? Had it ever happened, he wondered? He’d seen hints of it when he scanned Chase’s memories, but only during the feeding portion of their evenings. Once that was over, the two were mostly equals.
He knew the Rabbit King would have been in control. Rumors had her spending a lot of time with the Owl King, where maybe she didn’t submit, but she wouldn’t have been in charge. Same with the Eagle King.
Damn, the girl had fucked her way through the animal kingdom.
No, not a girl anymore. A woman.
He exhaled slowly, then moved to the next. More laughter. More touches. Her eyes soft in a way they rarely were.
There was nothing inappropriate. No kissing. No pawing. Just closeness.
Zander told himself he wasn’t uncomfortable. He was cautious. It was one thing to see a child grow into adulthood, to mark their age in years and milestones. It was another to confront them fully changed after nearly a decade, to find notrace of the small, sharp girl who once demanded his attention like she had a right to it.
Now she carried herself with weight. With intent. And worse, he couldn’t read her.
Felix’s mind was an open book. The boy’s thoughts spilled over with adoration, lust, and the thrill of being wanted. Every flicker of affection, every bolt of masochistic need, every moment of pride he felt at making her laugh. He wasn’t in love with her, but he adored her. And in bed, he’d do anything she ordered. Every detail of what they shared was laid bare to Zander, and it left him unsettled.
But Emmy’s mind was secure as a vault, and that frustrated him more than he cared to admit.
He could see what Felix felt when he was with her, but had no idea of her thoughts. The boy thought he understood her, and maybe he did. Maybe that was what scraped at Zander the most.
He clicked forward in the folder to a shot of Emmy with Rhea, both mid-laugh, windblown and squinting against the sun. Then one of her at the railing alone, hair tangled, eyes on the water, a look on her face that stirred something old and uneasy in his chest.
He told himself it was curiosity. Discomfort with change. That she’d grown up too fast.
Humans aged. Baby shapeshifters grew into adults. He knew this. He accepted it. He just hadn’t expected it to make her so … opaque.
He closed the folder, sat back, and steepled his fingers. She wasn’t human, she was a dragon. She was through aging physically in human form.
But it seemed she’d been a toddler only a handful of years ago, and now she was a fucking woman. Literally.
