Home > Books > Hoarded by the Dragon (Monstrous Matches, #4)(43)

Hoarded by the Dragon (Monstrous Matches, #4)(43)

Author:Lillian Lark

I nod, a little dazed, before blinking and bringing my attention to his other cock—the one with the knot. My body is begging for release, but I don’t want to leave him wanting.

Kalos stops my movements.

“Not yet. It’s time for my prize,” he says.

I open my mouth, but he’s already in motion.

He places his hand at the small of my back and pulls the tie for my robe. “Perfect little queen,” he croons. The robe is quick to fall from my shoulders. I move as if to lie back on the bed, but he keeps me where I am.

His taloned finger brushes over my swollen lips. The light touch is a sensual tease. He continues to stroke down my cheek to my collarbone. I shiver, goose bumps racing over my skin as his heated hand strokes over my breast, the nipple already unforgivingly hard.

He lets his hand drop to my swollen stomach. The haze of lust lifts for a moment with his hand caressing me there. Our child moves in response to his touch. I spent too much time and tears thinking about what he’d lost after I left him earlier. I can’t imagine the pain he went through, the devastation.

I can almost forget about his complicated feelings when the corners of his mouth curve up into a soft smile. “She’s quite active.”

“It’s always worse when she hears you,” I tease. The burn of need taking a backseat for this moment. “I think she must like your voice.”

His grin grows wider. “Or hate it.”

I smile back. “I guess we’ll find out, but I’m betting she’ll be a daddy’s girl.”

I’d be if I were in her situation anyway. Kalos is protection and power, and when he curtails his scary parts and lets his softer side out… it’s like I’m the only person in the world and I’m safe.

He’s a dragon I could love. If I were going to let myself love him.

“A daughter.” His words are soft, disbelieving, but he changes tracks and gazes up at me, his expression fierce. “I hope she’s as brave and determined as her mother.”

Ah, fuck me, the tears are back. I let out an aggravated sigh as I wipe them away and glare at him. “You did that on purpose.”

He laughs, his lips brushing over my stomach. His eyes glint in mischief.

“I’d never do such a thing.” He straightens and guides me to lie down on the bed, lying beside me. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” My cheeks are hot in embarrassment. “Not crying at the drop of a hat would be nice, but I’m fine. That was just really sweet of you to say.”

“It’s the truth.” He runs his claws through my hair, and my lashes fall in bliss. His other hand slides up my inner thigh, the brush of his knuckles against my folds has my legs spreading without his command. “You owe me, little queen. And as I remember, you always pay up on your deals.”

I swallow, but my voice still has a hoarse quality to it and much less snark than I intend when I speak. “Of course I do.”

“Then it’s my turn,” he purrs, and his head disappears past my belly before the hot lash of his tongue has me crying out. The sensitivity that was calmed by me drinking his release resurfaces. Tension coils in my body with each lick of his tongue. It’s like it was the first night. He’s tasting me for his benefit, forcing my body to give him more and more of my arousal.

I feel around and grasp his horns like they offer more than a convenient handhold. There is no steering this dragon as he devours me.

His thick and pointed tongue dives inside me, and I cry out. It seems almost like it’s growing in size—shifting and thickening. When the horns in my hands grow and become more textured, I realize that the sensation of being overfilled by his tongue isn’t a trick of my imagination. He really is fucking me with a dragon tongue.

Each impossible slide of his curving appendage has mewling sounds escaping my lips. My body tightens around the squirming part of him and I cry out, moaning.

The press of his fang against the side of my clit is all it takes for me to come. I try to snap my thighs together and use my grip on his horns to do something, I don’t know what, but he’s too strong. His hands keep my thighs wide as he thrusts his tongue as deep as it will go. It makes my orgasm last forever, my body helplessly pulsing against his mouth. His pushing tongue demanding more.

Tidal wave after tidal wave crashes through me until I’m shaking and my voice is hoarse.

Finally, Kalos lets me push his horns away. There’s a cracking sound, and when he rises from past my belly, his face is how I remember it, but his horns stay large, and his chin is a mess from me.

“You are mine to pleasure, Rina. Do not deny me with your hesitance again.”

I blink. The limbs of my body are heavy and satisfied. The fever pushing my need high has broken, and in its wake, a flash of tiredness threatens to pull me under.

My eyelids are heavy, but I respond with stubbornness. “Your turn.”

Kalos’s laugh is soft. “Sleep, my queen.”

I hum, liking it too much when he calls me his, but frown a moment later. I don’t want to leave him wanting. Kalos strokes my cheek with a claw.

“Rest awhile. I can be satisfied later.”

I surrender to the lulling moment and the knowledge that we will have a later.

I CAN’T SLEEP.

I sigh, wide awake after passing out earlier. I enjoy the heat from Kalos spooning me and try to push the pillow under my head into a position that will make it easier for my body to relax into sleep, but it’s not working.

If I sleep, I’ll probably dream again of swirling, vibrant oranges transitioning into purples and blues. It wouldn’t bother me. Out of all the dreams I could have, that one is beautiful and makes my fingers twitch for a brush.

But no matter that I feel tired, don’t fear my dreams, and the baby isn’t even kicking me right now… I’m just not falling asleep.

I sigh again. A little bored and antsy.

Kalos’s hand slides up to cradle my stomach.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks in a lethargic rumble.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whisper.

His mouth brushes my neck, and he nuzzles the skin behind my ear.

“I can wear you out,” he says, the words are curling and suggestive and occur at the same time my stomach growls under his hand. We both freeze. My face heats in embarrassment, and his chest shakes in soft laughter.

“It would seem you have different needs to be seen to,” he says.

I sigh. “I’m sure it will be fine—” I start but am cut off by another growling sound of hunger.

Kalos tsks. “Allow me to have the pleasure of feeding the mother of my child.”

When he says things like that, how can I deny him? We put on robes and head to the kitchen quietly.

I frown as he starts pulling out pans. “I can just have a piece of fruit—”

“Nonsense. You need meat and spices.”

“You don’t have to go to the trouble—”

“Rina.” His golden gaze ensnares me. “Allow me this.”

I blink, but plant myself on one of the stools next to the counter.

“Alright then. Knock yourself out,” I say.

“Prepare to be amazed,” Kalos says, his tone serious even as his mouth curves. This playful version of Kalos is rare. My mind tries to tell me he’s this way more around me than other people, but I resist that.

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