Fire Me Up
Page 34
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"Hmph." I pushed the button a couple more times, trying to hurry the elevator along.
"Oh, yeah, that's going to do some good. Everyone knows an elevator doesn't shift into second until you really lean on the call button."
I pressed it another fifteen times, giving Jim a triumphant smile when the green light lit above the door. "Ha! See? It does too work—oh, sorry. Didn't mean to step on your foot."
Jim waited until the door had closed on the man whose toes I had inadvertently tromped on before saying, "It's gotta be Drake sending you sexy dreams. Why else would you run around the hotel in nothing but a T-shirt, trampling innocent tourists in your lust to get to your boy toy?"
"He's not a boy, and this is a perfectly decent sleep shirt, so shuteth thy moutheth upeth, demon."
By the time I pounded on the door of Drake's suite, my desperation to reach him and throw myself into his strong, manly arms had been doused a little by the cold glare of reality as seen by the artificial light of two a.m. What if I had manufactured that whole dream on my own? What if I had attributed to Drake things he'd never agree to? What if it was all wishful thinking, my mind's version of a happy little fantasy wherein everything in my life worked out the way I wanted it?
Drake had the door open before my hand fell. "You were much quicker than I anticipated, kincsem."
His eyes were smoldering with a familiar look, one that went straight to my blood and set it boiling. It was all the answer I needed—obviously he had been a participant in the dream, which meant that he really had agreed to my terms, and that meant— "Hoobah!" I shouted as I leaped on him, wrapping my arms and legs around him.
He chuckled a sexy chuckle in my ear as he started for the door to his room, calling over his shoulder, "Jim, close the door, would you?"
Jim's face bore a canine version of disgruntlement as it turned from nosing the door closed. "Oh, sure, you two just go off to Boink-Land. I'll stay out here, then, shall I? Alone? Without my blankie? With no water bowl? With no one to talk to and nothing to do but listen to the bed squeaking all night Ion—"
"You're not naked," I said as Drake slammed his bedroom door shut on Jim's plaint. I was almost giggling into his neck, I was so happy. Of their own volition, my fingers crept across the opening of the blue and green satin robe Drake was wearing, sliding beneath the cool material to find the hot flesh of his pectoral muscles. "I liked YOU better when you were naked."
"I like you liking me naked." Drake's voice, always sensual, took on a new level of eroticism as he stopped next to the big bed that claimed most of the space in the room, allowing me to slide down his body until my feet were on the floor. I glanced at the rumpled sheets, then back at Drake, smiling a smile I hadn't known was in my repertoire.
"You were sleeping? Since I know you don't like to sleep wearing anything, I guess that means that under this very nice robe there's nothing but a really hunky dragon."
My hand slid down to the carelessly tied belt, tugging it loose.
"You're wrong about me not liking to wear anything while I sleep," he answered, his breath sucking in as I slid my hand down the lovely warm planes of his chest to his belly. Drake had what I thought of as a B-grade amount of body hair—not so much that he looked like a Darwinian throwback, but enough to make me appreciate the differences between his body and mine. His chest was moderately haired, but what I loved was the little tail of dark hair that led from the bottom of his breastbone to his groin. My fingers followed the silky path down to where he was already hard and hot.
"Really?" I breathed into his mouth, flicking my tongue along the length of his lower lip. I adored Drake's lower lip. It was full, sensual, with a curve to it that never failed to make my innards melt. "What exactly do you like to wear to bed?"
"You," he growled, tossing me onto the bed and following so quickly behind that I didn't have time for anything more than a happy squeak before his mouth claimed mine.
Wyverns, I had occasion to note, were naturally dominant individuals. I suppose that made sense—arrogance, an innate belief in your own talent, and a healthy ego had to be attributes that were needed to rule an entire sept of dragons (also naturally arrogant), but my experience with Drake led me to believe that the wyverns, male and female, were also extremely comfortable in their skins. Even if it was not their original skin.
"You have my express permission to wear me as often as you like," I said on a gasp, Drake's mouth having released mine to move to a very sensitive spot on my neck, just behind my ear. Little shivers of delight zipped up and down my body, but it wasn't enough. I wanted more.
I shoved the robe off his shoulders. His teeth nipped my neck as he shrugged out of the robe, his hands returning to claim my breasts. I wrapped one leg around his, digging my fingers into the smooth muscle of his behind. "Drake?"
"Mmm?" His mouth moved to my collarbone, pausing over the mark he had branded a month before, the warm heat of his tongue swirling over it sending a sharp bolt of desire zinging through me.
"That dream—I have to know for sure. You did agree to what I asked, right? I didn't just imagine that?"
"You didn't imagine it," he answered, pressing a line of wet, hot kisses across my chest. I shivered as he approached my breast, my aching nipples about ready to implode, they were so tight. "You swore fealty to me. I formally accepted you as my mate. We are now bound together."
My hands slid up his back as his head moved lower, avoiding my breasts, which were heaving themselves about in a wanton display intended on capturing his attention. "And .. . and ... the other? You agreed to support me in my Guardian training? You won't interfere with that?"
His tongue flicked my belly button, then he exhaled— fire. My stomach contracted as the flames licked my skin for a few seconds, heating but not burning, seeming to sink straight down into the pool of dormant heat that lay deep within me.
And suddenly there didn't seem to be enough air in the room to breathe.
"Good god, Drake," I gasped, struggling to get air back into my lungs as he looked up, a half smile on his delicious lips. "Next time you want to roast me, warn me, will you? That almost brought me straight up off the bed!"
"Almost, hmm?" Every single atom in my body froze as he gave me a speculative glance, then parted my legs, draping one leg over his shoulder. "We can't have an almost. Let me see if I can do better."
"Oh, yeah, that's going to do some good. Everyone knows an elevator doesn't shift into second until you really lean on the call button."
I pressed it another fifteen times, giving Jim a triumphant smile when the green light lit above the door. "Ha! See? It does too work—oh, sorry. Didn't mean to step on your foot."
Jim waited until the door had closed on the man whose toes I had inadvertently tromped on before saying, "It's gotta be Drake sending you sexy dreams. Why else would you run around the hotel in nothing but a T-shirt, trampling innocent tourists in your lust to get to your boy toy?"
"He's not a boy, and this is a perfectly decent sleep shirt, so shuteth thy moutheth upeth, demon."
By the time I pounded on the door of Drake's suite, my desperation to reach him and throw myself into his strong, manly arms had been doused a little by the cold glare of reality as seen by the artificial light of two a.m. What if I had manufactured that whole dream on my own? What if I had attributed to Drake things he'd never agree to? What if it was all wishful thinking, my mind's version of a happy little fantasy wherein everything in my life worked out the way I wanted it?
Drake had the door open before my hand fell. "You were much quicker than I anticipated, kincsem."
His eyes were smoldering with a familiar look, one that went straight to my blood and set it boiling. It was all the answer I needed—obviously he had been a participant in the dream, which meant that he really had agreed to my terms, and that meant— "Hoobah!" I shouted as I leaped on him, wrapping my arms and legs around him.
He chuckled a sexy chuckle in my ear as he started for the door to his room, calling over his shoulder, "Jim, close the door, would you?"
Jim's face bore a canine version of disgruntlement as it turned from nosing the door closed. "Oh, sure, you two just go off to Boink-Land. I'll stay out here, then, shall I? Alone? Without my blankie? With no water bowl? With no one to talk to and nothing to do but listen to the bed squeaking all night Ion—"
"You're not naked," I said as Drake slammed his bedroom door shut on Jim's plaint. I was almost giggling into his neck, I was so happy. Of their own volition, my fingers crept across the opening of the blue and green satin robe Drake was wearing, sliding beneath the cool material to find the hot flesh of his pectoral muscles. "I liked YOU better when you were naked."
"I like you liking me naked." Drake's voice, always sensual, took on a new level of eroticism as he stopped next to the big bed that claimed most of the space in the room, allowing me to slide down his body until my feet were on the floor. I glanced at the rumpled sheets, then back at Drake, smiling a smile I hadn't known was in my repertoire.
"You were sleeping? Since I know you don't like to sleep wearing anything, I guess that means that under this very nice robe there's nothing but a really hunky dragon."
My hand slid down to the carelessly tied belt, tugging it loose.
"You're wrong about me not liking to wear anything while I sleep," he answered, his breath sucking in as I slid my hand down the lovely warm planes of his chest to his belly. Drake had what I thought of as a B-grade amount of body hair—not so much that he looked like a Darwinian throwback, but enough to make me appreciate the differences between his body and mine. His chest was moderately haired, but what I loved was the little tail of dark hair that led from the bottom of his breastbone to his groin. My fingers followed the silky path down to where he was already hard and hot.
"Really?" I breathed into his mouth, flicking my tongue along the length of his lower lip. I adored Drake's lower lip. It was full, sensual, with a curve to it that never failed to make my innards melt. "What exactly do you like to wear to bed?"
"You," he growled, tossing me onto the bed and following so quickly behind that I didn't have time for anything more than a happy squeak before his mouth claimed mine.
Wyverns, I had occasion to note, were naturally dominant individuals. I suppose that made sense—arrogance, an innate belief in your own talent, and a healthy ego had to be attributes that were needed to rule an entire sept of dragons (also naturally arrogant), but my experience with Drake led me to believe that the wyverns, male and female, were also extremely comfortable in their skins. Even if it was not their original skin.
"You have my express permission to wear me as often as you like," I said on a gasp, Drake's mouth having released mine to move to a very sensitive spot on my neck, just behind my ear. Little shivers of delight zipped up and down my body, but it wasn't enough. I wanted more.
I shoved the robe off his shoulders. His teeth nipped my neck as he shrugged out of the robe, his hands returning to claim my breasts. I wrapped one leg around his, digging my fingers into the smooth muscle of his behind. "Drake?"
"Mmm?" His mouth moved to my collarbone, pausing over the mark he had branded a month before, the warm heat of his tongue swirling over it sending a sharp bolt of desire zinging through me.
"That dream—I have to know for sure. You did agree to what I asked, right? I didn't just imagine that?"
"You didn't imagine it," he answered, pressing a line of wet, hot kisses across my chest. I shivered as he approached my breast, my aching nipples about ready to implode, they were so tight. "You swore fealty to me. I formally accepted you as my mate. We are now bound together."
My hands slid up his back as his head moved lower, avoiding my breasts, which were heaving themselves about in a wanton display intended on capturing his attention. "And .. . and ... the other? You agreed to support me in my Guardian training? You won't interfere with that?"
His tongue flicked my belly button, then he exhaled— fire. My stomach contracted as the flames licked my skin for a few seconds, heating but not burning, seeming to sink straight down into the pool of dormant heat that lay deep within me.
And suddenly there didn't seem to be enough air in the room to breathe.
"Good god, Drake," I gasped, struggling to get air back into my lungs as he looked up, a half smile on his delicious lips. "Next time you want to roast me, warn me, will you? That almost brought me straight up off the bed!"
"Almost, hmm?" Every single atom in my body froze as he gave me a speculative glance, then parted my legs, draping one leg over his shoulder. "We can't have an almost. Let me see if I can do better."
