DragonGames Page 4

  The rich peal of her amusement had any number of dragons nearly salivating at the possibility of claiming this particular human female. If the cost hadn’t been forced exodus from the club for the remainder of the evening, he had no doubt Lyra would have been mobbed.

  They passed the alcove where the Dragon’s Cup shone from its pedestal, guarded by dragons and magic even in this club full of beings who would fight to the death rather than allow it to be taken.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Pierce mentally counted down the seconds to victory, and the addition of treasure to his own hoard.

  Two.

  Tielo emerged from his office just in the nick of time and Pierce smiled at winning the bet with Henri, though that victory paled in comparison to the larger one.

  Heat blazed across the room as Tielo’s gaze landed on Lyra, so visceral and intense, he might as well have opened his mouth and sent fire to surround her.

  That heat was answered by a quick inhalation of breath and a sharp tremor. She leaned forward as though she’d become sinuous flame, drawn to join the more powerful amalgamation of it that was dragon. Tielo. Albeit, true to form, his partner was fighting the inevitable, keeping his distance rather than hurrying over to meet his future.

  “Wow,” Lyra whispered, a blush crawling up her neck and into her face, though thankfully hidden by the color of her skin. Her mouth was dry but her labia was instantly slick.

  The picture hadn’t done him justice. In person he was…

  Devastating.

  Dark brown hair stopped at his shoulders, making him appear a maverick among the other dragons with their longer tresses. But she could easily imagine spearing her fingers through it as she lost herself in deep dark eyes.

  Hope joined to the curl of heat in her chest, stripping away denial. A part of her did want to meet a man. Mr. Right, her mother would say, having experienced Mr. Wrong.

  A nudge from Pierce broke Tielo’s mesmerizing pull and altered their course so he was behind them. She became aware of her surroundings again, the sound of gambling now amplified.

  Her stomach knotted. What if Tielo was an out-of-control gambler, like her biological father had been?

  That fear was countered by the hope. What if he was a member here because he enjoyed the role-playing and the company of other dragons?

  A smile unwound the knot. And then the man they approached made her blush again at his obvious appreciation of her appearance and the eagerness at which he stepped forward when Pierce said, “Lyra, this is Roque.”

  Rogue might have been a better name, with his fierce looks. Long black hair stopped mid-back while a red earring glittered in one lobe and a soul-patch accented a bottom lip that begged a woman to capture and suck it.

  “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he said, taking her hand and carrying it to his mouth, his gaze a demand. Choose me.

  Despite the burn of Tielo’s gaze on her back—or maybe because of it—her labia heated, growing more flushed, her nipples beading with longing. Wow. Dragon pheromones were potent.

  The ease with which she’d slipped into their role-playing made her laugh softly, and that sound served as an invitation for Roque to crowd into her personal space, a wicked tongue stealing a taste as it darted out to touch the back of her hand.

  By the Great Shared Ancestor! Tielo silently snarled at seeing Roque’s lips on the first of the prospective mates. He wanted to cross the club and snatch her hand back, to growl at her for allowing the male to touch her then apply his own teeth to the tender skin where neck met shoulder. He’d bite and mark her, punishment and warning and announcement delivered with others present to witness. By the—

  He broke rant and fantasy with a snort, consciously ignoring the flames that erupted from his nostrils. He forced himself to turn from the sight of the human female with Roque.

  The amusement he’d caught in Pierce’s expression was all he needed to understand this game the tricky fey had set into play. The introduction to Roque served merely as unnecessary confirmation.

  Tielo made his way to the maître d’ station, suppressing a snarl when he saw Henri’s quickly vanishing smile. “Name the silver-and-gold dragons present.” He could see some of them already.

  “Cael, Soren, Jubal, Takeo, Zephyr, Odion and Roque.”

  Smoke escaped Tielo’s nostrils. Four of the seven came only infrequently to the club, and one, Odion, left the dragon realm once every century if that!

  “The half— Aislinn,” he corrected himself, Pierce’s earlier warning heeded. He had no desire to ever offend his cousin’s mate Sophie and bring Severn’s wrath down upon himself. “Somehow Aislinn knows who might be a potential match.” It was easy enough to believe given the existence of heartstones.

  “I don’t know,” Henri said, lifting the invitation, the movement enough to create the faintest breeze and carry the potential mate’s scent to Tielo.

  His cock spasmed in reaction, leaking arousal onto the tip. Desire alone was nearly enough to drive his shaft through the front of his pants like a steel spear.

  Only tremendous self-control kept need from his voice, though the hint of a growl escaped. “Her name?”

  “Lyra.”

  Lyra. It sang through him, dragon nature grasping, clutching it to his heart like rare, priceless treasure.

  A beat. A second. It became impossible to keep his back to her.

  He turned to find Soren standing far too close to her, the other male’s heat brushing against the front of her body, surrounding her as Roque’s had. And like Roque, he too carried her hand to his lips in stolen touch and scent and taste.

  Tielo took an involuntary step forward. His hand closed into a fist against the imagined feel of first delivering a spank to Lyra’s naked buttocks for allowing Roque and Soren to have any part of her, and then smoothing over dark, creamy flesh in a gesture of adoration.

  Dragon hearing allowed him to catch the soft sound of her voice as she asked Soren if he wanted to join her at the poker table. Tielo’s lips pulled back in a snarl, hearing a purr in her voice though he couldn’t be sure whether it was real or imagined.

  “I hope to join you in many more ways,” Soren said, brushing his lips across her hand for a second time.

  Tielo saw red. No! Everything inside him screamed. Mine! Mine! Mine!

  He shook his head, clearing away the fiery color that painted the room with potential violence. No! He repeated. Only this time the denial held different meaning. This time it was a reminder that he didn’t want a mate. That he wouldn’t fall prey to his own scheme. He enjoyed his unmated status.

  Locks and trust and alliance were sufficient to keep the valuables he hoarded in both the dragon and human realms safe. Even Drake’s Lair could easily exist without his attention for months on end.

  At the first rumor of treasure he could leave. He could disappear into jungle or isolating terrain, could troll the bottom of the sea looking for artifacts or gold or gems.

  A mate changed everything. A mate couldn’t be trusted to the care of another. A mate was a constant worry. True, there were compensating pleasures, but freedom was far more valuable.

  He forced amusement to take the place of fierce possessiveness. He turned mine into visions of treasure, the winnings that would accrue to him because of the bet initiated by Pierce.

  Tielo found a true smile at Pierce’s cleverness, his trickery at having so diabolically set this particular trap in the hopes of not only gaining wealth, but witnessing his partner’s fall. He chuckled. Not happening.

  Tielo allowed himself to be drawn forward. It would be the same with any beautiful human woman.

  Why deny himself? Especially when this particular woman had a natural affinity to silver-and-gold dragons. He was no fledgling lacking control of wings, fire or cock!

  Tielo’s smile widened. He’d let Pierce hover on the knife-edge of victory then dispatch him to defeat.

  Or so he told himse
lf.

  In proximity to Lyra, visions of sweet victory, of gathering gems and gold coins in his arms faded. They were replaced by heated imaginings of dark skin against his, of hands gliding over feminine curves and mouth exploring, of tasting, drawing sounds of pleasure from her even before she knew the ecstasy he could give her with his cock.

  He found it impossible not to follow in her wake. Aggravating to watch as one by one she invited his rivals to the poker table.

  He seethed each time one of them took her hand. He burned and sent a glower in Pierce’s direction for allowing the contact. There were rules in place! No touching allowed! Didn’t Pierce understand that the treatment of this first potential mate would set the tone going forward?

  Pierce was surprised something hadn’t yet gone up in flames. A table, a chair, Lyra’s clothing.

  He steered her toward the sixth of his invited guests and smiled inwardly as Tielo positioned himself in front of them in a none-too-subtle maneuver to gain an introduction. No doubt his partner was telling himself he cared only about witnessing the brilliance of his scheme unfold.

  Lyra would soon cause a fever of gambling, not just at the center table where she would be ensconced, but at the tables surrounding them. Avid interest in the unfolding events would swell the bets and have the other dragons jostling for a reason to remain in the room, voyeurs all, and males dreaming the next human female to enter the club might become theirs.

  “The men will each be limited to a stake equal to the one hundred chips the house will advance you,” Pierce said, stopping at Jubal’s table, now cleared of everything but three flutes of Dragon’s Flame.

  “Join me in a toast, to a most memorable night,” the auburn-haired dragon said after being introduced and accepting Lyra’s invitation to join her for a game of poker.

  Lyra licked her lips, and not only at the prospect of indulging in a much-needed drink in the hopes of cooling down. She felt like fanning her face and loosening her dress.

  She’d never felt so desirable, so beautiful as she did around these men. She hadn’t needed to worry about choice of outfits. A sack would have worked, though they’d probably have preferred nothing at all.

  Her womb fluttered and her cunt clenched at imagining herself bared that way in public. On display. For the first time she truly understood what her sister craved. Not that she was ready to try Summer’s lifestyle, but…

  To a one, the men made her feel like a coveted treasure, a prize they intended to win. They made her feel utterly feminine, and strong because of it, not weak.

  Testosterone, they had it in spades. Any one of them would be a woman’s dream lover, a fantasy made flesh and blood.

  They scorched her with heated gazes and masculine appreciation, but the burn in her belly, the coil of need and want, it came from Tielo. She felt his eyes on her, could have sworn fierce objection and the promise of sensual retribution burned across her skin each time one of the others took her hand.

  “For you,” Jubal murmured, bedroom-voiced as he lifted a flute filled with amber-colored liquid and handed it to her. The heavy, wide ring on his finger was a gold-and-silver dragon with sapphire eyes.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash and looked. Tielo’s glare made it easy to imagine he’d exhaled a burst of flame. His expression smoothed so quickly she might have imagined it, except for the wild fluttering in her chest and the way his body seemed to vibrate with unspoken words, words meant only for her.

  Maybe it was a dragon thing? And while the others were openly stating their interest in claiming treasure—her—he intended to use stealth to steal her heart, or at least a night in her bed.

  She laughed silently, enjoying being caught up in their fantasy game, though her face heated in awareness of how her nipples were hard knots against the front of her dress. There was no hiding the physical reaction.

  She gave herself permission to bask in the sensual for tonight. To forget about being a teacher who had to constantly be aware of the possibility that students, parents, faculty or administration might notice her behavior at any given time.

  “To a memorable evening,” she said, touching her glass to Pierce’s and Jubal’s before taking a deep swallow and gasping softly. It was her only acknowledgment of the fiery heat flowing down her throat as though she’d swallowed a dragon’s essence.

  Forcing a breath through her nostrils, she said, “This stuff packs a punch. What is it?”

  “Dragon’s Flame,” Jubal said, approval in his voice. “You handled it as one meant to be part of our world.”

  “Thanks.” I think. She set the glass down without finishing the explosive brew.

  Jubal smiled. “You are wise to keep a clear head given the fierceness of the play about to begin.”

  She shivered, hearing sexual promise and threat. Nervousness chased some of her confidence aside at suddenly wondering how closely the line between reality and fantasy blurred for these men. What if they believed the winner would be entitled to her?

  “Shall we?” Pierce asked, once again offering his arm.

  She took it, and found comfort in the contact even though it had become obvious that all the men he’d introduced her to were gold-and-silver dragons. “How do you know Aislinn?” she asked.

  “I met her through my wife, Storm. Aislinn and Storm’s cousin, Sophie, are great friends.”

  Surprise made Lyra tighten her arm on Pierce’s. How many Storms could there be who had a cousin named Sophie? Weird though, she could have sworn Mia had mentioned Storm was now married to a man named Tristan, who happened to be a university professor.

  “Storm O’Malley?”

  “The same. How do you know her?”

  “I live in the area she used to patrol. She also came to the school for safety talks with the kids.”

  “I’ll mention you to her when I get home tonight. I’m sure she’ll be interested to hear how you faired at playing dragon games.”

  Lyra laughed at that description of an evening at Drake’s Lair. It fit perfectly.

  She relaxed further. It was hard not to with him. Maybe that’s why he played the part of a fey, because he had an easy charm, a natural glamour. She smiled at her own whimsy.

  “What happens if I lose all of my chips?”

  “You’re free to leave, though I hope you’ll wish to remain at Drake’s Lair and enjoy our hospitality.” Green eyes sparkled with infectious humor. “I’d tell you food and drinks are on the house, but it would be an unnecessary reduction of profit. Based on the reactions you’ve garnered so far, you’ll have plenty of offers of companionship.”

  Tielo had moved again. Anticipation built as their path took them toward him. Need intensified. Desire pooling thick and heavy, as if all the men she’d been introduced to merely served to whet her appetite for this one.

  She was flushed and swollen, aware of each step in a way she’d never experienced before. Her breath caught in her throat. Her nipples ached, then ached more deeply when his gaze landed on them.

  A soft moan of protest sounded when, without warning, Pierce turned them, putting his body between hers and Tielo’s. She’d swear she caught the flash of Pierce’s smile and heard Tielo growl.

  Their destination was a gorgeous blond, apparently a dragon of a different type. She’d have to ask what the colors meant. This man had a green-and-gold dragon inked onto his forearm.

  “Hakon,” Pierce said by way of greeting, and she detected just the barest hint of deference in his voice, as if this man was more important than the others.

  But then, he must be, given the chalice he held in his hand. He spun it idly, as if despite the intricate engraving and jeweled rim, it was of no particular significance, though she’d noticed it earlier and seen the way it was guarded by no less than three men.

  Like Pierce, Hakon had emerald-green eyes that danced with amusement. His smile was an invitation to mischief, but while there was masculine appreciation in his gaze, it lacked heat, which she found a rel
ief instead of a challenge.

  “I’d very much like to join your table,” he said.

  Pierce laughed. “Troublemaker.”

  “What other advantage is there to being a prince?” Hakon turned the full force of his charm on her. “Invite me?”

  She found it impossible to say no. “Only if you’ll tell me what the significance of the cup is.”

  “Would you care to examine it more closely?” He didn’t wait for her answer but handed her the chalice.

  It was far heavier than it looked, and the pictures engraved in it seemed to tell a story about dragons. Up close she was very sure it wasn’t a plaything, but something old and valuable, something that should probably be housed in a museum. And the guards served a real purpose rather than simply acting a part for the evening.

  “Mated pairs drink from it,” Hakon said. “A fertility rite, you might call it.”

  She pressed it back into his hand as if they were playing a game of hot potato, heat suffusing her, the collision of fantasy and biological imperative. These guys were potent. And it had been a long time since she’d felt enough of an attraction to invite a man into her bed at the end of a date.

  “Hakon is your seventh choice,” Pierce said. “With a slight adjustment to the rules to accommodate his unexpected participation, you can invite two others if you desire. I’d suggest you consider Odion.”

  He turned her slightly, presenting a swarthy dark-haired man, and startling her in the process. Rather than migrating toward the back room where the poker tables must be, all of those she’d already met were gathered, expressions alternating between glowering at Hakon and sending fierce glances to the chalice in his hand.

  “Would you care to join me for a game of poker?” she asked Odion.

  “Yes. You are the only reason I am here.”

  Possessive eyes raked her, the intensity too much, strong enough to sound little warning bells in her head. He was as compelling sexually as the rest of them, but she suspected in real life, away from the role-playing, she’d find him far more dominant than she’d be willing to tolerate.