Page 55 of Princess Seeks Dragon

“At least let me see if I can convince you to wear it after tonight?” he wheedles, and I cave. How could I not? I’ve never had anyone share so much of himself with me, had someone literally and figuratively take me under their wings like he has. “All right.”

“Good. Now, we just have one more stop to make.”

***

IHAVE NO PROBLEM WITHitems two and three that Graham wants me to wear—a pair of pink high-heeled slippers with the fancy fluff above the peep-hole toes, and a satin babydoll nightgown in a matching shade. The ring sits in a box next to my bed—and a purple beast with horns and fangs lies on top of it.

Graham strokes both cocks as he watches me enter the room, his devilish smile widening. “My treasure in her pretty wrapping. Will you take what’s inthispretty box?” He sets the dark plum-colored velvet box in the middle of his rippling abs, still pumping, massive hand wrapped around his thicker, fuller cock and the smaller one as well. For a moment, I imagine what it would be like to have both of them inside of me, to feel the friction of them pulsing inside of me while rubbing against each other. Stuffed so full... feeling both loads bursting in my pussy.

With a snap, the box opens, and Graham entreats, “My angel. My princess. My sweet little mate. Put this on your finger and say you’ll be mine.”

“Baby, don’t rush me. I want to make sure some crazy thing doesn’t rip us apart,” I say, sashaying over to him. I love the way he looks me up and down, eyes starving and lips parted as he takes in the sight of me.

“A crazy thing brought us together. I’m sorry I fell in love so hard, so fast.”

Oooh, direct hit to my heart. “Never be sorry for that. Just know I’m going to take a little longer to get to where you are.”

He puts the ring off to the side. “You won’t mind if I try to convince you to reach that point a little sooner, will ye?”

“No, I won’t,” I say with an indulgent smile. I lean down to kiss him and find myself suddenly crushed against his chest, muscular arms and wings making a purple prison as his tongue dances with mine. “Can we do this every night? The sex, not the shopping?”

He laughs, a sweet, smoky sound in my ear. “Almost every night but Friday. That is when I’m supposed to go to the Night Market and run the stall for Ian.”

“You have a whole brick-and-mortar store and a thriving business. Why do you need to run a stall at a flea market? Admittedly, the nicest flea market with the coolest stuff I’ve ever seen, but still?”

“It’s more of a service, pet,” Graham says as he strokes his talons lightly over my skin, setting my spine to tingling. “Some people in Pine Ridge can’t move safely by day. They need the moonlight or the darkness to let them do their shopping. My brother has an entire section of night-blooming plants. Jasmine, cereus, hellebore, phlox, jasmine, and more. I’ve got to run the stall on Friday nights until late. You want to come with me or stay home? I can ask one of the neighbors to stay with you.”

“Alban Wymark, the badass warlock?” I query.

“How did—”

“People in this town know each other’s business way too much—but they don’t seem nasty about it. I’d rather go with you than stay home.” I nuzzle my cheek against his chest. “We can have a quick dinner of leftover lasagna.”

“You’re the best cook in the world,” Graham says, nibbling my ear. His fingers reach beneath the fluttering hem of my nightgown, and he uses his talons to lightly stroke my puffy nether lips. One tip scrapes gently over my clit and makes me gasp, a rush of wetness flooding me. Graham dips his finger easily inside and starts to stroke in and out while his mouth dances over my throat.

“Oh. Oh, that’s nice,” I sigh.

And then he stops. “You know, there’s not much Italian food in this town? That was a rare treat tonight. The chef over at the River House used to keep a few Italian specials on rotation, some pasta dishes, but nothing like that lasagna. Mm. My mother couldn’t make such a thing unless it came out of a box in the freezer section. Mind you, my father was never much for pasta to begin with.”

“That’s the way it is in some families, I guess,” I say with a puzzled shrug. “But we weren’t talking about food, were we?”

“Mm, you’re right. Although I seem to have neglected my dessert.”

Graham picks me up and stands me on the bed as he scoots down, his wings open against the pillows propped on the headboard. “Glorious sight,” he sighs, looking up my dress and guiding me to stand over his mouth. “Built-in handles, love.” He taps his horns, and I cling to them as he pulls me down to sit on his mouth.

I’ve never done face-sitting before, and all I can say is that all women should have partners with built-in handles. The first strokes of his tongue make my toes curl and my knees buckle. I fall off my fancy slipper-heels, and Graham’s hands catch me, digging into my ass as he moans.

He switches from sucking, to licking, to running his fingers around my clit and then plunging inside of me, keeping me on a tilt-a-whirl of almost-climax.

“Would you like to keep the slippers off and put the ring on?” he asks.

“Honey,” I whine as his tongue leaves me.

It doesn’t return. Soft little pecks and nibbles replace the thorough tongue fucking I was getting.

“I just thought I’d check,” he says innocently and eases me back onto the bed. “Such a needy wet puss,” he croons.

“Your fault.”

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