Drawn by Dragonblood Page 4

  I’d never once been plagued by thoughts of insecurity with Dakota, and I wasn’t sure how to handle the emotion. Sure, I had a shit ton of insecurities about other stuff from my childhood, but my relationship with her hadn’t ever been tested before.

  She rested her hand flat against my chest. “Love you,” she murmured, nuzzling her cheek against my shoulder.

  “Love you more,” I whispered back my usual response, knowing I spoke the truth.

  Elijah’s story rang deep inside of me, in places I’d long forgotten about. The child in me who had always dreamed of dragons, of the imaginary friend who soared the skies keeping watch over me in my loneliness. Flickered images of that black dragon had come to mind as Elijah’s deep voice rolled over me. Either I’d become so fucking hot for our host that I started imagining things, or … I swear to Christ the man’s eyes matched the memory of my childhood “friend”.

  I never wanted to kneel before the dragon, but Elijah?

  Shifting on the couch didn’t help my swelling cock. I never imagined myself to be a kinky fuck, but my body sure as shit wanted him to consume every part of me.

  “Are you okay?” Dakota asked without moving.

  Sure she sensed the increasing tension inside of me, I heaved a breath and rubbed her arm again. “Yeah.”

  “Want to go take a nap?”

  I smirked down at my wife, but my gaze strayed to Elijah who stood at the sink, his back to us. A nap equaled a little lovin’ in Dakota’s language. Maybe making love to her again would lessen whatever the fuck the strangeness inside of me longed for.

  I opened my mouth to ask her if skipping out on Elijah would be rude, but he cleared his throat, drawing my gaze and lifting Dakota’s head from my shoulder. The sexual pull reached across the cave, tripping up my heartbeat.

  “Feel free to make yourselves at home,” he said, his voice soft yet easily heard. “There’s food and beer in the refrigerator, and a wine cellar downstairs.” He turned his pale gaze on Dakota. “If you’d rather, feel free to rest for a while. I’ve got some work that I need to get done.”

  “Thanks,” I said as Dakota murmured the same.

  With a dip of his head, he turned, disappearing behind a door in the wall beneath the stairs to the second floor.

  I imagined him heading down to a dungeon, complete with whips and chains. Gag balls and cock rings.

  The fuck? Biting back my groan, I pulled myself off the couch. “How about that nap?” I said, pulling Dakota up.

  Her nipples and pebbled skin betrayed her.

  So why didn’t I feel betrayed?

  ****

  An hour later, sated and wide awake—with no damn symphony leaking from overhead speakers—I stared at the rock ceiling above the bed we lay upon. The rain had stopped, and streaks of afternoon sunlight light cut across the sky outside the lone window. Dakota sprawled on the massive bed beside me, her light snores cutting through the tangled thoughts in my head. I’d worn her ass out—and couldn’t stop thinking about Elijah while taking all she had offered.

  My dick swelled at the thought of the damn man, overshadowing the guilt nagging at my stomach. Thinking about cheating was the same as doing it, wasn’t it?

  Fuck. Jaw clenched, I climbed out of bed and pulled my jeans on. Maybe a couple beers would take off whatever edge I rode.

  Barefoot, I slipped into the hallway. Silence lay like a heavy blanket over the cave, but the lights welcoming me with every step and fading behind me strangely made me feel at home, something I’d never experienced before. The quiet, main living area opened up before me, and I wound my way down the stairs into the kitchen.

  Like promised, cold beer sat in the fridge. The chilled bottle against my palm cooled my hand, but not the heat Elijah had stirred to life inside of me when first entering our camp earlier that morning.

  I twisted the bottle’s lid off and glanced at the door he’d disappeared through while chugging down a few swallows.

  Find him and find out what the fuck was going on, or ignore the tension and light out the next morning, leaving Elijah Tolzman and his hotter than hell everything behind? Not used to dealing with temptation, I didn’t know what the fuck to do.

  I stared at the door and finished off my beer, swearing to fucking God I could feel the energy of him pulling me into the bowels of his cave castle. My feet moved as though on their own, and I pulled open the door he’d disappeared through.

  A staircase led down into the dark, but the second I stepped onto the first tread, lights shimmered into existence overhead. Like the stairway to the second floor, the one leading down rounded along the wall, some areas cut for more headspace. Another cavern opened, but smaller than the one above. Similar walls to those on the second floor broke the area apart, creating what must be rooms beyond the two large doors. The hallway continued on ahead, but I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened.

  Not a sound. None of that fucking music, not even dripping water one would expect in a cave. My breaths sounded loud as I strained my ears. My gaze flitted to the door on the right, and like my body knew Elijah sat on the other side, I found myself moving in that direction.

  The door sat ajar by a few inches, and breath held, I peeked through the crack.

  A weight room, I noted from a quick scan of what I could see, but my gaze honed in on the man lying on a bench beneath a barbell in its hold, his hands resting on his forehead as his chest rose and fell.

  Between sets, most likely.

  I’d never thought a man’s bare legs would turn me on, but the defined calf muscles and bulge of his thighs peeking from beneath the shorts were damn fine. I imagined Elijah standing and ordering me to kneel before him, and fuck did I want to.

  My dick twitched at the thought of him taking his cock in hand and working his length inches from my face. My fucking mouth watered over the idea he might rub the head slickened with pre-cum over my lips before telling me to open. His low voice rumbling to take him deep, take it all—swallow it all.

  Fuck.

  I bit back my groan and adjusted my swelling dick even though the thought of a man’s spunk should have grossed me out.

  Elijah lifted his arms and grasped the barbell.

  Like a sick fuck, I continued to watch him, every lift of the bar flexing his massive pecs, pulling a grunt from him. He was a beast, but the amount of weights on the ends bent the fucking barbell. Thank Christ he had a safety bar slightly above his chest, but the man really should have a spotter when benching that kind of weight.

  Using that excuse as my reason for doing so, I pushed the door inward.

  Elijah grunted one last time and set the bar on its handles before I made it halfway across the room. He sat up, his gaze landing on me. Sweat beaded his brow … and every inch of his bare upper body. Like the stone around us, his muscles were cut. Defined, and I expected hard as granite.

  The intensity in his steady gaze twisted my stomach in a way that only a woman’s perusal should do. “Is everything all right?” he asked as I forced myself to meander to a pull-up bar bolted into the wall.

  I tried for my usual carefree grin and probably fucking failed while wrapping my hands around the bar. He had every weightlifting apparatus imaginable, and most of it appeared brand new. “Guess when you live this far out, you need your own gym, huh?”

  Elijah’s low chuckle sent a shiver rustling down my spine. “I probably spend too much time down here.”

  I bit back the compliment that almost rolled off my tongue, but couldn’t keep from sliding my gaze down over his seated form again.

  Forget the six-pack I sported—his was a fucking eight. The rippled muscles disappeared beneath the band of his shorts, with a hint of black hair leading the way southward. A large as fuck bulge filled those damn shorts, and I swallowed against the rush of lust swarming my body. My asshole should have clenched, not relaxed with the need to be stretched.

  The fuck is wrong with me? I closed my eyes and gripped the bar in my hand
s, a simple contraction of my own chest and arms pulling me upward. A few reps cleared my head a bit and kept me from tenting my shorts, and even though I kept my eyes closed, the heat from Elijah’s gaze seared through me.

  Face it. My brow furrowed as the reps became tougher. You’re sexually attracted to a man. Get the fuck over it … no big deal. We’ll be gone tomorrow and never see him again.

  I lowered my feet, the rock cool on my bare feet.

  Elijah hadn’t moved from the bench, but his bulge had swelled and lengthened.

  Averting my gaze as though my eyes burned, I fought for something to say, something to break the obvious sexual tension filling the room. “I had a dragon as an imaginary friend when I was a kid,” I blurted the first unsexual thought I had.

  “What did he look like?” Elijah asked the question as though the beast had been a real being.

  “He was huge and black. Pale eyes.” I tightened my grip on the pull-up bar, and unable to help myself, glanced over at him while shifting from foot to foot.

  He studied me until I stilled like a fucking deer caught in the beams of his gaze. A blue so pale, so damn familiar, a shiver broke goosebumps across my arms.

  “I think I need another beer,” I heard myself mutter, and I forced my arms to drop and feet to move toward the door.

  “Don’t go.” His quiet command pulled me up short, but I didn’t turn. Couldn’t. “It’s … nice having someone share this space with me.”

  Not exactly what I’d expected—or hoped? I turned, an eyebrow lifted. “No roommates or family?” I asked the question either Dakota or I should have hours ago.

  Elijah shook his head, and finally turned away from me to grab a towel off the floor. I tried like hell not to stare as he wiped his face then chest. “No,” he finally answered me, wrapping the towel around the back of his neck, fisting the ends in his massive hands.

  Hands I wanted on my body. Mapping every inch, tying me up and taking what he wanted.

  Goddamn.

  I cleared my throat, fighting a fucking boner again. “How long have you been alone?”

  “Too damn long.” His lopsided smile didn’t reach his eyes as he stood. “Want to put a few up?” he asked, motioning toward the bench.

  Maybe pumping some iron would help with the whole lack of testosterone shit I’d been dealing with for hours. “Why the fuck not—but you need some serious tunes going on in here if I’m going to stay.”

  He chuckled. “What would you like to listen to?”

  “How about a little Metallica?”

  Elijah grimaced, but asked his genie in the speakers to play what I wanted.

  Chapter Six

  Dakota

  I clutched the spines of a black dragon as we soared through the air, the wind whipping my hair behind me. Rather than laughter rushing past my lips, I moaned, every shift of my hips rubbing my bare pussy and clit against warm scales. Riding a dragon, riding the edge of a climax that would pitch me so far into oblivion that I fought against my impending doom.

  My breath caught. Body quivered. My toes tingled as my climax seeped upward, rushing toward the massive need deep inside of me. I should have fallen, I should have been swept up in the vortex of the wind, lust, and euphoria awaiting me…

  I opened my eyes.

  The bamboo sheets of Elijah’s guest bed tangled around my legs. Alone, I noted, reaching for Jon. So damn aroused, a mere flick of my clit would send my pussy into spasms. “Jon?” I called out, lifting my head, hoping like hell he would be up for another round.

  The room lay empty, the door to the bathroom open and lights off.

  A brief moment of panic caught my breath. Had he left me? Fucked me one last time before taking off because I wanted another man? My throat thickened, eyes stung, but a quick scan of the room calmed me.

  Jon’s backpack still sat by the door, his sweatshirt thrown over the back of a chair.

  Expelling a huge breath, I let my head fall back to the pillow. He hadn’t seemed upset by my obvious attraction, but Jon had always acted carefree, arrogant almost, around others. As if nothing in the world bothered him, when I knew the skeletons in his closet and accepted him regardless. Was he putting on a front? Hiding the pain I caused him?

  I chewed on the inside of my lip.

  He’d made love to me earlier—there was no possible way he’d faked that. Mind racing and stomach unsettled by my thoughts, I climbed off the bed.

  Our combined cum from before the nap leaked down my thighs. “Damn.” I frowned and cupped myself while awkwardly walking to the bathroom. “You’d think he hadn’t come in two weeks rather than two hours.” Shaking my head at the amount of Jon’s semen leaking from me, I sat on the toilet.

  Cleaned up, but still naked, I meandered back into the bedroom, hands on hips. Hunger clenched my stomach, and a glance out the window revealed it had to be past our usual supper time.

  How long had I slept?

  Sex twice in one day, and still feeling decidedly naughty, I didn’t bother pulling on panties, but went straight for the only pair of clean leggings I had left. I strapped the girls into a bra, however, since I wasn’t about to reveal to the world what our host did to my body.

  Neither man sat in the living room or kitchen, but the thump of music spilled from the ajar door beneath the stairs. I pulled it open, the warm light beckoning me inside.

  Another stairwell with the magical lights … another cavern, but less than half the size of the one above. The door on the right stood open spilling a Nine Inch Nails song, its beat one Jon and I had fucked to before. Heaving breathing and grunts reached my ears—and immediately jolted a shot of lust through my pussy.

  My mind having a heyday over thoughts of Jon and Elijah tangled together, my body more than enjoying the thought and fingers itching for the camera still buried in my bag, I hurried across the smooth stone floor, my bare feet silent. A workout room, damn it all to hell. My breath left in a rush as I realized I had wanted to catch the two men together in a compromising position.

  I wanted Jon’s hands on Elijah. The truth of that fact didn’t turn my stomach, didn’t create the unease I should have felt. I wanted to watch them together. I also wanted to be between them, all three of us a tangle of legs, hands, and sweating bodies.

  Face hot, I filled my gaze with the two men doing curls, both of their backs to me. One blond, one dark-haired, both broad shoulders and ripped enough to flood any woman’s mouth with drool.

  Muscles flexing in their shoulders … down their spines. Tight asses.

  I would never be able to hear that damn song again without thinking of a sweaty, man-on-man sandwich with me squashed between. I also should have worn the damn panties.

  Elijah was the first to put down his dumbbells and turn.

  Our gazes collided, and I found my lips parting but unable to form a damn word. A sheen of sweat covered his cut torso and matted the spattering of black hair to his chest. The happy trail of a lifetime cut between those lush muscles creating a V at his hips and disappeared beneath his low-slung shorts.

  My mouth dried.

  “Dakota.”

  I jerked my head toward Jon, heat flushing me from head to toes. His dimpled smile melted my damn heart. He had to know what Elijah did to me. Hell, there was no way to hide the dark-haired man turned me on, and same as before, Jon acted as though he didn’t care.

  Then again, perhaps his own guilt over being turned on by Elijah swayed his emotional response of my traitorous body.

  Unsettled by the energy between us, the guilt, and the longing for Jon’s cock—again—caused such a shitstorm in my brain…

  “I think there’s too much testosterone in this room for me,” I said with a breathless laugh, trying like hell to keep from fidgeting.

  One of Elijah’s eyebrows popped up, and he glanced over at Jon. I did the same, to find him still smiling at me.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “G-good.” I returned his smile, but it
wobbled as I glanced at Elijah again. “I dreamed about a dragon.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, reheating my face as the vivid images of my dream swept through my head.

  Soaked, writhing on its back, my arousal coating its scales…

  My pulse thrummed, and I licked my lower lip while forcing my attention back on Jon. “I—I’m going to heat up a can of stew. Do you want some?” Squeaky voice—check. Damp palms—check. I ran my hands down my thighs.

  “I was just going to prepare something for dinner,” Elijah said, jerking my head his way again. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t return my strained smile, but continued to stare at me with an intensity that weakened my knees.

  Mumbling something about needing a drink, I spun and hightailed it back up the stairs. Jon’s footfalls sounded behind me, but I didn’t stop until I stood in the kitchen.

  He wrapped his sweaty arms around me and nuzzled my neck. “You wear the rumpled, I’ve-just-been-fucked look so damn well, baby, I want to fuck you again.”

  I melted into his embrace with a sigh as he licked from my collarbone to my ear.

  “Pretty sure Elijah was thinking the same damn thing,” Jon whispered in my ear. I tensed to pull away, but he tightened his hold on me. “The man has good taste.” He suckled my lobe into his hot mouth, and a shiver of goosebumps rose across my arms.

  Rather than question his lack of jealousy over another man wanting me, I breathed a partial sigh of relief. If only I could turn my body off toward Elijah, things might be okay.

  “You wear the post-workout, sweaty body damn well,” I said, my voice still breathless with need.

  “Mmm.” Jon nuzzled my neck again. “What about Elijah?”

  My breath caught. “E-Elijah?”

  “Mmm,” Jon murmured again, his tongue flicking my ear. “All that hard muscle. Dripping sweat…”

  “He’s all right, I suppose,” I managed past the quaking in my stomach.