Home > Books > Hoarded by the Dragon (Monstrous Matches, #4)(46)

Hoarded by the Dragon (Monstrous Matches, #4)(46)

Author:Lillian Lark

The glass dome above us lightens from the orange-reds of dawn to periwinkle blue, and I can only imagine what it looks like once the sun really hits it. The shaped facets that gleam are stunning.

The expense to ward it must be extraordinary. I’d roll my eyes at the excess if the sight didn’t hug my breath in a vise. It may be wasteful, but my artistic soul refuses to agree.

This is the value of art, and Kalos is a patron.

And he wants me to stay.

That his dragon mated me is almost incidental. I force myself not to ponder on it too long. I enjoy when Mr. Dragon comes out during sex, but that’s only a small part of Kalos and I want… more.

The smart thing would be to keep our relationship as casual as we started. It would be safer for my heart and our future relationship as parents not to add fuel to the flame. Sex is sex, as Kalos had said.

I should guard my heart from being devoured even more by this dragon’s presence.

I should let Kalos deal with his wounds on his own.

I should stop myself from hoping.

Then, after our daughter is born, we can be on friendly terms.

I know it’s too late to save myself from the heartbreak but to try for something more with this dragon who sees himself as broken flirts with disaster.

The cautious part of me tries to sneer at Kalos’s offer, asking if I’m going to let another person in my life who just takes what he needs, while I hold out hope that I mean something more like I’d done with Nemo.

While the rest of myself argues that nothing ventured is nothing gained… and this place in Kalos’s life is something I want.

Not just having a place in the world. Having this place.

Shoulds haven’t done much for my happiness. I devoted myself to restoration to appease a should.

The safe path won’t give me what I want.

I’m going to take this one day at a time, and I’m going to allow myself to hope. Kalos isn’t Nemo, and I’m older and wiser now to recognize those emotions.

It’s time to focus on what I want for my future, for our child’s future.

It’s a risk, but my happiness is worth it.

BEN PORTALS us into a marble-floored lobby, and the space tilts. Kalos’s hand on my waist keeps me from swaying, and I smile gratefully at him.

When he suggested taking me somewhere new to help me relax, I’d been shocked. For months I’ve only experienced the outside world as quick errands. Kalos’s estate is beautiful, but my gods, did I need to get out.

Kalos had laughed when I confessed what I thought I’d hid so well. My little queen, you were approaching the moment when an animal would chew through their own arm.

“Welcome to the Love Bathhouse!” a heavily pregnant woman with curly red hair says. I blink, and we exchange looks at the other’s baby bump and mutual smiles. “I’m Rose and will be available to answer any questions you have. Your room has been prepared. Why don’t I lead you there so we can open up the rest of the lobby?”

A bathhouse? The air has a pleasant touch of humidity that sizzles with wards and magic.

“Have fun.” Ben grins and disappears again.

“Thank you for closing off this space for our privacy,” Kalos says as we follow Rose down a hallway.

Rose nods. “Of course. I know you would have rather arrived in the room for security reasons, but the lobby is the only place where our wards allow portals and only from those who don’t wish harm on the occupants.”

“That’s an intricate ward,” I say. And it’s probably the tip of the iceberg. I would not want to try and break into this place. The hum of wards around us caresses my skin, barely noticeable but vibrant once I focus on them.

I could do it, but the strength of the power here would make it very uncomfortable.

Rose casts a teasing look at me. “The better to keep things secret and safe.”

“We appreciate that,” Kalos says as his talons tickle my lower back through my dress.

Rose reaches a heavy oak door, opening it, and giving the key to Kalos. Her eyes pass over him when she does. It’s almost as if she’s checking him out, but the look lacks any lust. In fact, she looks a little sad after her inspection.

“Here we are. Just text or call if you need anything. You can of course come into the lobby and get things, but there’s no guarantee that you won’t run into anyone else. The main rooms are rather popular tonight,” she says.

“Main rooms?” I ask.

“Yes, they are open for group activities and exhibition.”

I feel my cheeks catching fire. Oh. This must be the sex bathhouse Stella mentioned.

“We won’t be using those aspects of the bathhouse.” Kalos’s words are quiet, but firm. The possessiveness of them has something in my chest curling with delight.

Kalos brought me to a sex bathhouse. How romantic. I catch my snort before it becomes audible when we enter the room that Rose leads us to. My mouth falls open.

The décor is lush pinks and purples. The intricate tiling on the floor and walls swirls in floral shapes of roses and thorns. Gold paint in geometric designs on the floor gives a tease of the types of wards at play. One side of the room has a sunken pool of water that steam rises from, while the other is a recess of padding and pillows. In front of the bedding area sits a low table set up with plates and candles.

It's gorgeous. I swallow the sarcasm from moments before because this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.

“Enjoy.” Rose winks. “There are complimentary supplies in the cabinet, and be sure to light the candles.”

Kalos’s lips twitch with a smile. “We will.”

With that, Rose leaves. The door locks behind her, the tickling in the air is the only sign that a ward for this room in particular slides into place.

“Candles?” I ask, marveling at the tile art on the walls.

“The Love Bathhouse trades in magic made during sex,” Kalos says. “Lighting the candles acts as the consent to and initiation of the ritual.”

That’s probably why the wards feel like a tidal wave instead of a slow trickle of power.

“Did you bring me here to seduce me?” I ask, half teasing and half surprised. Kalos has never been the instigator of our intimacies. After catching him in his heat, I’ve always been the one begging or offering myself up on a platter for him.

He arches a brow. “I’m betting that my queen will need to be satisfied some time tonight. If not,” he shrugs. “I’m sure Rose will accept monetary compensation for the use of the space.”

Need to be satisfied. Like last night. Or any of the times that I’ve gotten randomly horny from this pregnancy.

“I want you to enjoy yourself. That doesn’t have to be from sex,” he purrs as if he senses the pang of disappointment.

I push the sensation down. I can’t be disappointed if I don’t communicate my wants.

“And what if I want you without the cravings?” I ask. No needy churning of my gut, no urges that make it hard to think—just Kalos directing me how he wants. Just giving a moment to whatever is growing between us.

It’s an admission, and he treats it as one.

My cheeks heat under his considering gaze.

“Then we have dinner first,” he says.

I blink in surprise, and he explains with a twist of his lips. “If you are mine to care for tonight, I will not have you go hungry just to feel the cradle of your body around me that much sooner.”

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