The gibberish word spilled out of him just as I bent down and took him into my mouth. Despite being bound to the sexiest dragon in the history of the planet, I had never managed to fulfill my wish to pleasure him with my mouth. Unfortunately, once I had him in that position, I wasn’t too sure of how to continue.

“Gabriel?” I asked after a moment of more or less rolling him around my tongue.

“Hrn?”

“I’m not quite sure what I should be doing. Maybe you could give me a little direction?”

“Neff.”

I looked down at him. His penis was now slick with saliva, waving gently in the breeze as his groin muscles twitched, his legs taut, his belly rigid. He was gripping the rope in either hand, the veins in his arms standing out starkly, giving hint to the strain of holding himself still for me.

Love filled me at such self-sacrifice. I made a mental vow to reward such devotion, and bent to my task, deciding that I’d just try out a few things and see if I got any response.

I swirled my tongue around him, gently cupping his testicles, causing him to moan nonstop, his hips bucking upward.

“Now, isn’t this fun?” I asked, an audible pop sounding as I pulled my mouth off him. “I’m enjoying this. You taste so wonderful, Gabriel. All woodsy and earthy and dragonny. Not at all like a urinal cake, like Cyrene said men taste, although how on earth she knows what a urinal cake tastes like is beyond me. You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He gurgled at me.

“Good. Cy swears by something called Pink Mango Massage Oil. I thought we could try that next. I have a little sample of it in my pocket. I think if I dribbled it around your penis and slicked you up—”

I moved over to my jeans, reaching for the tiny plastic container, when I was yanked backwards, the ground suddenly beneath me, and Gabriel above, shredded bits of rope trailing from his wrists. “My turn!”

“I don’t need to be restrained,” I said as he wrapped a bit of rope around first one wrist, then the other. “Gabriel! That’s my Pink Mango Massage Oil.”

“Not anymore, my little tormentor,” he said, snatching the packet from my hand. He bit off the soft plastic top, spitting it out before dribbling oil in a serpentine pattern down my chest, to my groin. He grinned, his dimples flashing at me, causing heat to flush upward from my belly. “Now let us see how you like being the recipient of the attention of a wyvern.”

My toes curled at the look he gave me. He spread the massage oil across my breasts, kneading them with strokes that had me writhing on the ground.

“Shall I tell you what I’m going to do with this oil? I will start with it at your breasts, those two delectable mounds that fit so perfectly in my hands and mouth. I shall blow gently on your delicious chocolaty nipples, savoring the taste of them and you as I whip you into a frenzy. I will rub my whiskers on them, making you moan and beg me to end the torment. I will take them into my mouth and bite them gently, causing you to writhe uncontrollably.”

My breath caught in my throat and didn’t seem to move as his words filled my head.

“Then I will spread the oil around your belly, using it to caress all of those lovely curves, over to your hips, the sweet line of which makes me want to fall to my knees. Just when you think you can bear it no more, I will rub it lower, into your sex, caressing it into you, after which I will lick it all off. I will bring you to my mouth, and show you that two can play at oral sex. And then, when I have wrung at least three more orgasms out of you, I will push myself into your Pink Mango-flavored self, deep into your fiery depths, and give you fulfillment like you’ve never had.”

I almost forgot how to breathe—so exciting were the images he brought to my mind. My body strained against his touch, wanting to feel all of it, all of it right now. But then he put his mouth down to my now-hard nipples, and I stopped thinking altogether. “Agathos daimon! That’s . . . that’s . . . oh, my, yes! More mouth! More fire!”

His mouth was on my stomach, swirling little curlicues of fire around it as he licked up the massage oil, and everything was just fine until I slid my leg up alongside his, rubbing my foot down the long, muscled lines of his calf.

He reared back as if he’d been shot, stared at me with eyes of purest mercury, then was between my legs, lifting my hips to meet his thrust, the burning brand of him deep in my body the most exquisite of sensations. It took even less time than our previous bout, his climax coming almost immediately, with mine following as the last echoes of his roar of completion faded away into the night.

I didn’t recover for at least ten minutes, but when I did, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t even have the strength to open my eyes to see what it is you find so funny. You have worn me out, mate, and that is not something that happens frequently to a dragon,” he said, and then defied his words by opening both eyes and rolling over onto his side, pulling me close against his body. “What is it you find amusing?”

I kissed his nose, tugging gently on one dreadlock until he gave me his fire. “I was thinking that the people in this neighborhood are going to report us if we keep it up. I love you, Gabriel.”

“And I love you, my adorable little dominatrix. I failed at foreplay again, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but I’m not complaining.”

He smiled, and it was a smug smile, a purely male smile, a gesture that acknowledged his awareness that he had pleasured me to the tips of my toes.

I bit his shoulder and snuggled up against his chest, all worries temporarily driven away by the dragon who lay curled protectively around me.

Chapter Fourteen

The sanctuary we had found in the park ended with the sound of a police siren passing by. Gabriel stretched and gently pried me off him so he could get up. “I suppose we should return to Drake’s house. I wish to see Fiat.”

I groaned as I sat up, muscles worn and well used in the vigorous lovemaking that was so common with Gabriel. “He was conscious when I went to bed. Mad as hell, but conscious. I think Drake was going to wait until you arrived to talk to him.”

“Drake knows it is my right to kill him,” he said matter-of-factly as he pulled on his pants and shoes.

I looked with dismay at the remains of my clothing. “You’re not going to kill him. Crap. I ripped your shirt off you, didn’t I? How am I going to get back to Drake’s house?”