Page 11 of The Dragon's Distraction

“And stretch out. We are done for the day.”

I hoped no one would notice that my voice was slightly shaky, and I quickly excused myself from the yard. There was no way I could stay and chat now. The monsters would smell my arousal if I got too close. I scribbled down a note and passed it to a guard before running straight to my therapy room. As soon as I was there, I slammed the door closed and shoved my hand down my pants. I rubbed myself to another quick orgasm, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough. Only Falkon was going to be enough.

Within a few minutes, the guard I’d passed the note to knocked on the door. I made sure my pants were properly back in place.

“Come in!”

The door opened and the guard lead in Falkon, before leaving again. Falkon’s pupils were huge, and he stared at me for a long moment before he spoke.

“That was unfair, wasn’t it?”

“Was it?”

I laughed and flicked my hair back. He was breathing more heavily than usual.

“Yes. Don’t think I won’t torment you back when you deserve it.”

The thought sent a thrill of excitement up my spine.

“That would be terrible.”

I said it in a tone of voice that made it clear I didn’t think it would be terrible at all.

Falkon sighed and sat down. He seemed serious for a moment, and it threw me off.

“What’s wrong, Falkon?”

“There are conversations that must happen before anything else. It’s taking everything I have not to pin you down and….”

Whatever the last words had meant to be turned into a low growl that felt like it vibrated straight into my core. I flushed with even more heat.

“I can smell you working yourself up Sunbeam and it isn’t helping.”

“Sorry.”

I sat down in a chair and tried to think unsexy thoughts.

Mud, tuna, frogs.

“Do you know why I’m here? In the prison?”

It was like a bucket of cold water. The thing I’d been trying not to think about.

“Oh. Not really. Something about a boat. But that’s in the past.”

I waved my hands like I could push away the conversation. The past.

“You need to know exactly what you are getting yourself involved with. I’m a dragon. I was raised by dragons.”

I nodded. Dragons were a very territorial bunch. The stories about hoarding gold weren’t fiction. They could be greedy and violent.

“I understand that you were probably raised to believe that different things were important,” I said carefully.

He snorted, sending some leaflets on the coffee table flying across the room.

“That is an understatement. My father brought me up, as is the dragon way. He taught me that protecting our hoard from greedy little humans was the only thing that mattered. I accepted this. Now I see that it makes absolutely no sense. What did we even need gold for? Dragons don’t go shopping.”

I smiled but said nothing. My therapist side knew that it was his time to talk and my time to shut up.

---