Dragon My Heart Around Page 6

Wiggling the rest of the way out of her leggings, she kicked them aside as well.

  Ryker took two pillows from the couch and handed one to Camille before lying back, sticking the other behind his head. “For your knees,” he murmured.

  Her lips slid into a sly smile and she dropped the pillow to the floor between his legs and then kneeled on the tufted square. Dipping her head to his cock, she circled his head with her tongue before taking the swollen end into her mouth.

  She relaxed her throat and her jaw and took him deep, letting the flat of her tongue work his girth. Scooting farther down his thighs, she wrapped her hand around his thick shaft as she worked him with her mouth. His member jerked in her palm and she tightened her grip, his cock rigid and hot in her hand.

  Ryker groaned, licking his lips. At the low rumble she picked up her pace, his thigh muscles tensing under her, his ass tight. A grin tugged at her lips at his response and she lifted her mouth from him, her tongue flicking the satin of his swollen head.

  “Want me to take you deep again, Ryker? My tongue wrapped around your dick?”

  Not waiting for an answer, she inhaled and slipped his engorged head into her mouth, the flat of her tongue curling up on either side of his thick shaft.

  She circled her palm over his head as she pulled him from her lips, before plunging him deep again.

  A strangled growl left Ryker’s throat, the sound raw and full of need.

  Her teeth grazed his sensitive flesh and she cupped his balls, high and tight.

  Ryker moaned. His hands clenched above his head as though forcing himself not to touch.

  The sight of him struggling made her stop. “Am I hurting you,” she asked, wondering if she manhandled his balls too much.

  He opened his eyes, his surprise evident. “No.”

  “Then why the vise grip?” She motioned to his balled-up hands.

  A pained looked crossed his eyes. “In the past, I wasn’t allowed to respond. I had to ask permission.”

  Camille’s heart squeezed with that one sentence. “You were made to feel powerless with sex?”

  He nodded, but didn’t avert his eyes.

  “The sex slave thing wasn’t just some kinky game, then?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Nothing about me is a game. There was no pleasure in what I was made to do and I held no affection for those who bid me to perform.” His eyes locked with hers. “Until now.”

  What could a man like Ryker have done to end up so vulnerable? He was crazy strong and saying he was easy on the eyes was the understatement of the century.

  “Why? I don’t understand how a man like you could end up with—with—”

  He brought his hand to her cheek, cupping its softness. “—with no will of his own?” He finished the sentence because the question on her lips would have been too much for him.

  She nodded, note trusting herself to reply.

  “A very long time ago, I allowed lust to cloud my judgement, and in my arrogance I dismissed the warnings of my Dragosarra. I believed myself impervious to consequence. I was wrong. I dipped my wick in a dark pool only to find myself sucked under with no way out.”

  “I don’t understand,’ Camille shook her head.

  “It’s not for you to understand, mo thávma. The burden is too heavy for your shoulders. Just know that your blood summons has been a blessing. A respite from my darkness and I will always treasure our time together, no matter how short.”

  Short? Oh, no you don’t. We just got here.

  “Why would you say that? Are you going somewhere?” Camille’s stomach tensed.

  Ryker was a stranger, a complete question mark, yet the thought of never seeing him again sent a hollow punch to her gut.

  His fingers trailed from her cheek, his thumb tracing the bottom edge of her full lips. “Not unless you send me away.”

  Sex with someone one she barely knew broke all the rules. Except playing by the rules was the last thing on her mind right now.

  Cami’s heart squeezed for him and what he endured. As far-fetched as his story sounded, her gut believed him. And why not? It wasn’t too long ago people had no clue shifters existed, yet now they were part of everyday life.

  If their existence was hidden in plain sight for millennia, then why not magic and curses? There was still so much beyond human comprehension for her to deny the possibility outright.

  The ache in Ryker’s gaze was almost too much to bear. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to give every inch of herself to him. The irrational, foolish feeling overwhelmed her with the need pleasure Ryker as none had before.

  Her eyes found his locked. “I want you to want me, Ryker. As much as I want you. I want your body wrapped with mine, both of us crazy with need. Just two lovers. Together. No servant. No master.”

  With a growl, Ryker pulled her onto his chest and claimed her mouth. He wound his arms around her waist, their legs intertwined as his fingers traced the curve of her back to her ass.

  “Camille.” Her name was a low rumble on his lips and in one fluid move he had her on her back, his hips between her thighs. He leaned up on his arms. “Close your eyes, love.”

  Her lids slid shut and he kissed the thin, tender flesh. “Do you trust me?”

  With a sigh, she nodded. “I shouldn’t, but I do. God help me, I do.”

  “Good, then let me take you where you’ve never gone before.” He reached for the thin silk runner on the coffee table and tied the glossy fabric around her eyes.

  The fear of the unknown spiked adrenaline through her blood and Ryker inhaled with a grin. “That’s it, Camille. Let your pulse race with anticipation. Let your other senses take over.”

  He cupped her pussy. “I serve you…only you. Not because you summoned me with your sweet blood, but because I want you, Camille.” He feathered kisses along her jaw and then to her lips, nipping at the tender flesh. “Your body, your smile, your amazing laugh, your brave trusting spirit. You.”

  Her breathe caught in her throat and she reached for him, but he locked her wrists in his hand. “Come with me, love…and I promise…come you will. Over and over again.”

  Ryker moved her hands above her head, keeping her wrists locked with his one hand. He dipped his mouth to her breasts, sucking and nipping the stiff peaks as his other hand snaked toward her slick pussy.

  She rolled her hips against his palm as he worked her clit and her slit together with his fingers and thumb.

  She gasped, and her body tensed. Her muscles tightened as she came. She rode the wave grinding his hand further into her pussy.

  Ryker pulled his hand away and spread her knees wider. She groaned at the feel of his bulging head replacing his fingers at her slick entrance.

  She hissed as he waited, his full, jutting cock wet against her slick sex. He slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her to take the corded velvet of his cock as Ryker slid inch by shameful inch into her tight entrance.

  Her legs trembled and she felt nothing but stuffed, electric bliss radiating from between her legs.

  As he filled her, his size stunned her again, stretching her wide as she took him deep.

  “Milk me, love. Take what I have to give.”

  Camille rolled her hips, matching his pace thrust for thrust as her body tensed with him balls deep. She crested toward another climax and as her body peaked she cried out, her final orgasm ripping through her, robbing her of coherent thought.

  The word MINE racing through Ryker’s head as Cami’s orgasm spasmed, her walls convulsing against his thick shaft. His head bulged and as his own climax tore from his body, he spoke the words in the language of his ancestors and his dragon roared.

  He jockeyed the line between feral and human. In that moment, the sharp sting of claws and fangs dug into his gut from the inside demanding he claim her.

  Ryker locked the urge away and instead threw his head back with a guttural cry, emptying himself deep within her.

  Camille clung to him, riding the last
of her orgasm before slumping back, too weak to move. With his cock still inside, Ryker gathered her close, cradling her as though he would never let her go.

  “Are you okay?” Cami asked, afraid to break their intimate spell.

  “I could stay here with you like this forever.”

  Tucked into the crook of his neck, her grin spread against his skin. “Well, considering Mrs. Wilder is due here any minute, that might not be the wisest way to greet her.”

  His shoulders shook and the pure sound of his laughter made her smile even more.

  “Do we have time for a shower?” he asked.

  “Probably, but not if we get sidetracked again.” She nipped his shoulder.

  “Do I distract you, Camille?” He nuzzled the underside of her jaw.

  She gasped, spreading her legs to take his hard length again. “You have no idea.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ryker poured the bottle of merlot Mrs. Wilder brought, and handed the two women each a glass of the vino before he sat beside Camille on the couch.

  “Cheers.” He lifted his wine to his lips, taking his fist sip of the grape in centuries.

  The look of visceral pleasure on his face made Camille smile. “Good, huh?”

  He nodded with a satisfied exhaled. “You have no idea.”

  His follow up wink made Cami’s cheeks warm. Those were the same words she uttered as his body took hers on the floor only feet from where he sat.

  The memory sent a quick jolt through her nether regions and she fidgeted with one of the couch pillows, plopping it on her lap, afraid the matchmaker would notice.

  “You two seem like you’re getting along.” From her high backed chair across from the couch, Gerri gave Camille a look that told her she hadn’t missed the exchange. The older woman smiled. “I’m glad.”

  Getting along? Try humping like dogs in heat.

  Camille bit the inside of her cheek and a soft smirk tugged at Ryker’s mouth as if he read her mind. “I take no credit for the comfort, Dragosarra.”

  His soft gaze stayed on Camille. “All tribute goes to the lovely lady you entrusted with my book.”

  “That so?” Gerri raised an eyebrow.

  “Indeed.” Ryker stretched his long legs.

  Soft denim hugged his strong thighs, but it was the cotton tee that clung to his muscled chest that made Camille’s breath catch. Everything fit as if made to order. Even the sneakers.

  She squashed the urge to stare at the man and focused on Mrs. Wilder instead. The matchmaker came at her request tonight, and it wasn’t to watch her ogle Ryker. It was to explain and clarify.

  Camille put her wine glass on the end table and folded her hands in her lap. She cleared her throat and looked at Mrs. Wilder.

  “Just to make things crystal clear, Ryker belongs to you, right?” Cami cringed when the older woman’s eyebrow hiked even higher.

  “You’re seriously asking me that question now?” The older woman shot back.

  “Yes.” Heat burned in both cheeks at the way it sounded, especially after what Ryker shared, but she had to know for sure.

  Gerri ran a slow finger around the rim of her wine glass, watching the younger woman’s face. “No, Camille. Technically, he belongs to you. Ryker is not a client. He did not hire me to find him a mate. Although that is what I sincerely hope has happened.”

  “Nevertheless, Ryker is somehow connected to you. It’s what I’ve convinced myself, but this situation is so farfetched on so many levels I need reassurance.” It wasn’t a question and Camille looked between them.

  The matchmaker considered her. “The answer to your question is yes and no. Ryker has been connected to me for many, many years, but I didn’t send him to you. I gave you the book with the hope that what I saw would come to pass.”

  “What you saw?” Cami asked.

  Gerri looked at her. “I told you when we first met. I have second sight. It’s how I know when people are a right match. So yes, I saw the two of you together before I gave you the manuscript.”

  Camille picked up her glass from the end table and drained its contents before reaching for the bottle on the coffee table.

  “Is everything okay, dear?” Gerri asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look pained.”

  Wincing, Cami shook her head. “It’s nothing, really. I developed a rash of sorts on my arm. I noticed it this afternoon—” she spared a glance for Ryker and her cheeks pinked again. “In the shower.”

  “A rash?” Gerri put her wine glass on the table. “May I take a look? It’s been my experience that what seems like nothing is sometimes much more than what we assumed. It’s best to check things before they get worse.”

  Cami shrugged. “Look all you want, but I’m pretty sure it’s nothing. I have sensitive skin. Nothing a dab of hydrocortisone cream can’t fix.”

  Holding out her arm, Camille pushed her sleeve toward her elbow and turned her wrist over to show the older woman its tender underside.

  The inside of her forearm was red, but there was a definite pattern to the mark. A swirl followed by four distinct curved lines. Like claw marks.

  Mrs. Wilder leaned in and ran a thumb over the markings, her face bothered. “I must be slipping,” she murmured.

  Camille’s eyes looked between her and Ryker. “Uhm, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Gerri didn’t answer. Instead, she gave Ryker a pointed look.

  “It can’t be.” Ryker shot from his chair and took Camille’s arm, turning it in his hand. His eyes widened.

  “It is.” Gerri nodded. “Draconis Signum.”

  Camille yanked her arm back. “Stop studying me like I’m some freak of nature and tell me what’s going on.”

  “You carry the mark of the dragon,” Gerri answered. “I didn’t see it when I matched you to Ryker. I should have. It doesn’t make sense.” Her rush of words was more self-admonishment than anything else.

  “It’s a rash, Mrs. Wilder. I’m having a reaction to something I came into contact with. It happens.”

  The older woman studied Camille with new eyes. “Yes. You came in contact with something alright.” She gestured toward Ryker with her head. “Him.”

  Gerri spared a glance for the shifter before turning back to Camille. “Exactly how many times have you had sex with the dragon in the last forty-eight hours?”

  Camille’s mouth dropped open. “With all due respect, Mrs. Wilder, that’s none of your business.”

  “Many times, Dragosarra. In many ways.”

  “Ryker!” Camille shot him a mortified look.

  She moved to get up, but he put a staying hand on her thigh. “She needs to know, mo thávma.”

  “You keep calling me that, but I have no idea what it means.”

  “I told you what it meant the first night we were together.” His calm eyes met her anxious glare.

  “Refresh my memory, then.” She dragged a hand through her dark hair with a huff.

  “It means my miracle.” Gerri replied. “And based on the mark on your arm, it seems he’s right. You are his miracle.”

  “Miracle? What’s so miraculous about me?”

  “Everything about you is a miracle,” Ryker replied, reaching to lace his fingers with hers. “Even if what this mark suggests never comes to pass.” He ran his thumb over the raised flesh on her wrist.

  Live current raced through her body setting her nerve endings alight. Her vision clouded and she gripped Ryker’s arm, her fingers digging into his flesh.

  “Ryker!” Camille cried out, but before he could react, her body went rigid and her sight went dark.

  Ryker’s eyes flew to Gerri. “What’s happening?” He flew from his seat and grabbed Camille’s shoulders to shake her, but the matchmaker yanked him back.

  “Leave her be!”

  “No!” He growled. “Can’t you smell her panic?”

  “Ryker Dragos! Listen to me for once in your life! Do not interfere!”

  He stopped fighting the older woman’s grip
, but his jaw tightened. “If anything happens to her—”

  “Nothing will happen. Camille is having a vision and it needs to play out. Let go of her, Ryker.”

  With a frustrated exhale, he let go and Camille whimpered, her hands reaching blindly in front of her.

  Nausea rose at the sightless feeling. The thick scent of loamy woods filled her nostrils and she inhaled instinctively. Her eyesight cleared in that moment, but it wasn’t her living room she saw.

  Ahead was a forest with trees the color of eggplant, so dark purple they seemed black except in places where the sun kissed their branches.

  Stunned, Camille gasped and a cloaked woman turned. It was clear she saw Camille as well.

  The woman’s face was like fine alabaster, but her white skin was marked with thin blue lines scoring her cheeks and forehead. The marks looked as though made with ink and a razor sharp blade rather than random scars. They formed a pattern, like the most intricate of Celtic knots.

  The strange woman’s eyes glowed with the colors of the forest, purple rimmed in black, and her gaze narrowed as she took a step closer. Her arm stretched toward Camille and she opened her mouth, a chilling screech ripping from her throat.

  Camille screamed and reached for her ears, the vision leaving her shaking. She slumped against Ryker’s chest, his arm closing tight around her shoulders.

  “What did you see?” Gerri asked, taking her hand. “Tell me.”

  Camille shook her head. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t here.” She explained what she saw and Ryker and Mrs. Wilder shared a glance.

  “What?” Cami asked. “You both know what this is, don’t you?” She sat straight, her eyes gaping at them. “Admit it.”

  “Was there anything else?” Gerri pressed.

  “Just that awful shriek! I thought my brain would explode,” Camille replied.

  “Shriek?” Ryker lifted a questioning brow.

  With a nod, Camille dragged in a steadying breath. “The sound was so shrill it pierced my head like a heat seeking missile aimed at my brain. My knees gave out, but before I hit the ground the vision ended.”

  “Were you alone or did you see anyone there with you?” Gerri squeezed Camille’s hand. “This is very important, honey.”