The ripping noise that followed took me by surprise, but not as much as the fact that Kostya could get me out of my shirt and jeans and onto the bed without so much as ruffling my hair.

“Hey! That was one of my favorite shirts.” I eyed the remains of it as it fluttered to the floor. At least my jeans hadn’t been shredded off of me. “You could have simply unbuttoned it, you know.”

“No time,” he said, moving over me on the bed, the urgency in his eyes confirming his words. His hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere at once, little fires starting at the slightest touch—literal fires, ones that danced merrily along my skin until Kostya kissed his way past them. “I must claim you now.”

“I appreciate the fact that you’re so driven to sexual madness by my allure, but—just a little to left, please. Oh, yes, that’s it right there—but honestly, I think you could have let me have Rene thank Aisling first.”

He lifted his head from where he was kissing a fiery path across my belly. “Too much talking and not enough writhing in ecstasy. You will commence writhing now.”

“I don’t really like being commanded to—”

His fingers pulled aside my underwear and dove inside me.

I writhed in ecstasy.

“Holy cats in pajamas, Kostya!” Stars seemed to explode behind my eyes when he dipped his head down and breathed fire on all those sensitive, tingly parts of me that were even now clamoring for him. My underwear went flying, along with my bra, and as his fire twined around us, I gave myself up to the pleasure that I was ready to swear only he could bring.

He stopped just short of sending me over the edge, moving up my body, but gave way when I pushed on his shoulders until he yielded. The expression of surprise almost made me laugh when I quickly took advantage of the situation and straddled his hips.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, his eyes straying to my breasts. Both of his hands immediately took possession of them, an act that my breasts and I both commended.

“Being on top. I thought it would make a nice change.”

“I am wyvern!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be on the bottom once in a while. Besides, it’s your turn to writhe in ecstasy.”

His expression turned smug. “It is unnatural for a wyvern to give up control like this. You may wish to please me, but you will not be success—”

I slid back to his knees and bent down to that part of him that had been poking me in the thigh.

“I feel obligated to point out,” I said after two minutes of laving him with my tongue, “that you are not only writhing in ecstasy, but you’re also moaning and you’ve shredded Suzanne’s sheets.”

He looked up, his eyes uncrossing. “You’re stopping? Now? Why are you stopping? You should continue.”

“Really?” I traced the long length of his penis, gently drawing my fingernails up the length of it. He bucked beneath me. “It seems to me that you’re pretty close to losing control, Mr. Wyvern. For one, your claws are out.”

He lifted a hand and looked at it. Sure enough, his fingers were black, with long, ivory claws. “That happens sometimes.”

“That’s why I asked if you really want me to continue—you seem perilously close to losing control. You sure you want me to go on?”

“Yes,” he said without thinking, then made an annoyed sound. “No. Perhaps. No, it is best if you do not use your mouth anymore. If you insist on being on top, then impale yourself on me. Then I will maintain control and can give you pleasure.”

“Bossy, bossy, bossy,” I said, moving up, making sure to rub his hard length between my breasts as I did so. “And for the record, you always give me pleasure.”

He moaned again, and he tried to pull me where he wanted me, which luckily was exactly where I wanted to be as well.

“How about you just lie back and let me set the pace?” I murmured, biting gently on one of his nipples.

“Wyverns do not give up control. It is in our natures to dominate. To the left just a little, Aoife.”

I shifted to the side, and bit his hip, licking away the sting. “Tell me what you like, Kostya.”

His eyes, which had been closed while he writhed around beneath me, opened to show irritated arousal. “You’re questioning me? Now? When you insist on pleasuring me with your hands and your mouth and those breasts that should, by right, be in my mouth and hands? Now you insist on asking questions?”

“It’s called sharing, and yes, I’m asking you what you are thinking and feeling and what you enjoy me doing to your delicious body. Before you tell me that wyverns never answer questions, let me point out that you’ve driven me to this. Most men are quite happy to vocalize what they like and dislike, but I have to pry every feeling out of you. I blame PTSD.”

He stopped in mid-reach for my breasts. “What is that?”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder.”

His face went all outraged on me. “You think I have a disorder?”

“Calm down, it’s not like I’m calling you mental or anything. It just means that you suffered a lot at some traumatic event, and it’s shaped who you are today. Now, getting back to what you like, does this do anything for you?”

I swirled my tongue around his other nipple at the same time I reached down and fondled his noogies.

Both of his hands clutched at the sheets and his eyes flared with an unnatural light. I smiled to myself. “You know, it really is odd, but if you had told me that I wouldn’t be bothered at all by a man who goes all dragony when he’s sexually excited, I’d have told you that you were nutso-cuckoo. I mean, it’s just not normal, is it? And yet, it’s you, so it’s okay.”

Kostya cracked open one eye to glare at me. “Are you going to narrate this?”

“Yes, yes, I am. And you’re going to tell me what you like. It’s called sharing. Do you like it when I noogie-fondle?”

His brow wrinkled. “Noogie?”

I gave his testicles a gentle tug. “It’s my polite term. Do you find it quirky and charming?”

“No,” he said abruptly.

A little pang of pain shot through me.

He pulled me down until I lay flush on his chest, his hands warm on my butt. “I find you quirky and charming. Why are you not impaled upon me yet? You ask me what I like, and I like to be inside of you.”