He glanced at her legs. “Hhhm. I’d hate for you to kick me,” he muttered to himself.
“Don’t you dare!”
Which, of course, meant he would dare.
Bercelak’s big fingers dragged along her body as he slowly walked to the foot of the bed. He stopped long enough to gently grip a nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeeze. She barely stopped that moan in time, but he saw her struggle and grinned.
Then he was moving again. Once he reached the end of the bed, he locked a chain to the tall bedpost and then grabbed hold of her foot, cuffing it.
He walked to the other side, the whole time staring at her.
“Gods, Rhiannon, you are beautiful. Whether as dragon or human . . . you’re beautiful.”
She’d had other males say similar words to her in the past, but never with such passion and, because Bercelak wanted only her and not her crown, those words meant so much more than anything anyone had said before.
Her other foot locked to the bedpost, she now lay spread eagle and open for his pleasure. She couldn’t wait.
Instead of taking her, though, he stared at her for long moments and finally she couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
“What? What are you staring at?”
“I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to you. I want everyone to know that you belong to me, Rhiannon. Everyone. Tell me now if that’s not what you want.”
Ooh. This was going to hurt. But it would be a shortlived pain and she wanted all to know she belonged to him. She wanted dragons from far and wide to know that to even look at her was to risk her mate’s wrath.
“No more words, Low Born. Don’t waste my time. Just do what you intend or let me go.”
He nodded once and then he was on the bed, his mouth over her human foot. Right by that oddly shaped “big toe.” Bercelak’s talented tongue slid across her toe and down the top of her foot. And where his tongue went, a brutal pain followed as he burned her. Most dragon mates marked a shoulder or wrist. Some a breast or, the one’s with senses of humor, the ass. But Bercelak was his father’s son and when he took a woman he wanted everyone to know he’d Claimed her. Kin or enemy. Friend or foe. They would all know.
She bit her lip to keep in the screams of pain she wanted to unleash as Bercelak’s tongue wound its way across her exposed body. And where his tongue couldn’t reach, he let out a lash of Magick-imbued flame to do the job for him. But even as the pain grew worse and worse, so did the feeling that was growing steadily along her spine and in her pu**y.
As she fought to keep her cries of pain in, she also fought to keep in her screams of lust. By the time his tongue slid across her belly, she arched her back and screamed out her climax. But he didn’t stop. Not her Bercelak. He kept going, his tongue moving up her body, across her ribs, and around one breast to lash across a nipple. That’s when another climax racked her. Still, he wasn’t done. His tongue slid across her upper chest and collar bone, then across her neck, finally stopping as he stroked her jaw.
For a moment she thought he’d splash it across her face, but he’d hate to give her any more scars than he already had.
“Does it hurt?” he whispered in her ear.
“Aye.”
“Do you care?”
“Nay.”
“Do you want me to f**k you now, Princess?”
It should insult her that he still called her by that title, but she wanted him to call her that until they were gray Elders. She wanted to always be his princess because she had thousands who would see her as their queen.
“Get on with it, Low Born,” she snarled.
And she saw her Bercelak smile just before his mouth slammed down on hers. He kissed her hard, snatching the breath from her lungs and her ability to think or reason. Then he was on top of her. His flesh pressing against hers. She cried out from the pain of his skin rubbing against her fresh burns, but the sound was lost inside his mouth. Then he was inside her and she immediately climaxed before he finished the first stroke.
He slammed into her, forcing his hard c**k into her body again and again, as words tumbled from his mouth and it took her a moment to understand what he kept chanting over and over against her ear.
“I love you, Rhiannon. I’ll always love you. I’ll always love you.”
Bercelak came with a roar, pouring his seed into her hot, tight body as she came yet again, this time screaming his name.
Collapsing on top of her, Bercelak wrapped his arms around her and held Rhiannon tight. She was his now and every dragon would know it.
She gasped for air beside him and he realized he couldn’t keep lying on top of her like this. As dragon they were now of equal size. But as human, she was still smaller than him . . . although taller than most human males.
Using his arms to push himself off her body, he rolled over and lay beside her, his head cradled in the curve of her still bound arm.
“I love you, Rhiannon,” he whispered as if others could hear.
She whispered back, “I love you, Bercelak.” He’d waited so long to hear that . . . and it felt even better than he used to imagine it would.
He reached up and unshackled her. He glanced down at her feet, temporary exhaustion weighing him down. “Think you can take care of those?”
“Aye.”
Her hand waved tiredly in the air and the shackles unlocked and dropped from her feet.
“You know, love, your new skills could get in the way of our mutual enjoyment of your being bound.”