Dragon Storm
Page 53
Constantine couldn’t recall when he had last seen such an attractive woman.
“Not attractive,” he said aloud, shaking his head while he pulled Bee’s shoe off and placed a duvet on top of her. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Downright breathtaking.”
He thought about that while peeling off his own filthy clothing in the bathroom, mentally pulling up a picture of Ysolde and comparing it to Bee. Where Ysolde was tall and blond and willowy, Bee was of medium height, a build that he would have thought of as stocky on anyone else (but modified it to pleasingly round), and with freckled skin that demanded to be stroked and kissed and licked.
Although Ysolde’s ethereal beauty might attract most men, he had to admit that there was something else about Bee that appealed to him. She was an earth goddess, a woman who was straightforward and honest, and who was clearly devoted to helping others.
“I could fall in love with her,” he told his reflection, rubbing his whiskery chin. “But then she’d fall in love with me in return, and I’d end up breaking her heart because she would want a proper wyvern, and I don’t have a sept. That wouldn’t be fair to her at all.”
He sighed, momentarily feeling sorry for himself. All those centuries ago, when he had lost his heart to Ysolde, he swore he’d never love another, and he hadn’t. But sometimes, the thought crossed his mind that unrequited love wasn’t as satisfying as the chivalric texts promised, and once or twice he’d wished that he had a woman in his life whom he could love, and who would love him in return.
Wouldn’t it be nice if that woman were Bee?
He shook his head at that rogue thought. “She enjoys my body, but nothing more. She deserves a mate who will be able to provide her with everything she desires. No, I’ll just have to keep her at an arm’s length, emotionally speaking. We can enjoy each other physically, but nothing more. We’ll both be happier that way.”
His reflection looked doubtful and more than a little disbelieving of that statement, but Constantine didn’t give himself time to dwell on the subject. He finished removing the last of his garments, turned the water on as hot as he could stand it, and stepped into the shower.
Cold air hitting his back was his first warning. Bee’s scream echoing in the small bathroom was the second, but by that time, he had her up against the wall, holding her by her neck a good foot off the ground, his claws pricking into her flesh.
“Ack!” she said, grabbing at his arm.
Instantly, he released her, worriedly watching her take a couple of deep breaths of air. She was now naked, but he tried not to notice that fact while preserving an expression that was both contrite and concerned. “I’m sorry, I did not know you would surprise me like that.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice a croak that she cleared with a little cough. “It’s my fault. I should know better than to startle a dragon.”
“Especially one who left you sound asleep,” he agreed, dabbing at a little spot of blood where one of his claws had scratched her. “Did you want something?”
She made an odd gesture, an embarrassed expression fighting with a smile. “Yes. You. I heard the shower, and thought I’d join you. I’m a mess, and I thought we could—er—I thought—”
“Ah,” he said, delighted. “You wish to engage in sexual activity in the shower. I applaud such a spirit, but I am a silver dragon.”
He waited for her to say she understood.
Instead she looked puzzled. “And?”
“The green dragon’s element is water. It is not mine.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “And that means what?”
“Silver dragons don’t like water. We like the earth and the forests and plant lore. We are master gardeners and healers. If you’d like to make love outside, I would be happy to introduce you to the dragon chase.”
Bee blinked her brown lashes a couple of times, then waved him aside, and stepped into the shower, cocking her hip as she struck a pose. “No? All right, then. I’ll just take a shower by my lonesome.”
“Water is a necessary evil, and not at all enjoyable,” he said, but as if he was pulled, found himself following her into the shower. There was something about the sight of her standing there, all slick, silken skin, and hips and breasts and legs, and all those other bits of her that he loved.
“Perhaps, but soapy skin can be so very, very slippery.” She soaped up a cloth, and ran it across her chest, and instantly his head was filled with thoughts of his fingers doing a soapy dance across slick, satiny skin.
He sucked in his breath, inhaled a little water, and spent a moment coughing it out of his lungs before he gave up his desire to talk her into lovemaking in another room, and took possession of the soap and cloth.
“Sorry. Are you okay now?” Bee asked, her expression full of remorse.
“Yes. But you see the danger of doing this in the presence of water. Why do we not get dressed, and find a nice private park—”
“There’s no such thing in Paris.” Bee moved around him so that the water was to his back, and stroked a hand across his shoulder to his chest, and down to his belly. “But don’t let me stop you if you need to get a breath of fresh air. Personally, I much prefer the privacy of a cozy room. And I have to say, making love in the shower has always been one of my fantasies, but that’s not really your problem, is it?”
“I shall make it my problem,” he said nobly, well aware of the fact that she was fast driving him to distraction, no matter if they were in the shower. He took both of her breasts in his hands, enjoying the weight of them, as well as the wet flesh that slid so enticingly across his palms. He also enjoyed the way her breath hitched when he bent down to flick his tongue across the nipples. “I have always been in support of fulfilling sexual fantasies, so it would be only right for me to fulfill yours. If you touch me there again, however, I will not be responsible for what happens.”
Bee, who had been gently tugging at his testicles while stroking his penis, paused. “Touch you where? Which hand?”
“Both.” He took a long, shuddering breath that had nothing to do with being in the shower, and everything to do with the enticing woman who was even now trying to rub herself all over him in an attempt to drive him insane with lust. “If you won’t let me chase you outside in a park, then let me at least take you to my bed.”
“Not attractive,” he said aloud, shaking his head while he pulled Bee’s shoe off and placed a duvet on top of her. “Beautiful. Gorgeous. Downright breathtaking.”
He thought about that while peeling off his own filthy clothing in the bathroom, mentally pulling up a picture of Ysolde and comparing it to Bee. Where Ysolde was tall and blond and willowy, Bee was of medium height, a build that he would have thought of as stocky on anyone else (but modified it to pleasingly round), and with freckled skin that demanded to be stroked and kissed and licked.
Although Ysolde’s ethereal beauty might attract most men, he had to admit that there was something else about Bee that appealed to him. She was an earth goddess, a woman who was straightforward and honest, and who was clearly devoted to helping others.
“I could fall in love with her,” he told his reflection, rubbing his whiskery chin. “But then she’d fall in love with me in return, and I’d end up breaking her heart because she would want a proper wyvern, and I don’t have a sept. That wouldn’t be fair to her at all.”
He sighed, momentarily feeling sorry for himself. All those centuries ago, when he had lost his heart to Ysolde, he swore he’d never love another, and he hadn’t. But sometimes, the thought crossed his mind that unrequited love wasn’t as satisfying as the chivalric texts promised, and once or twice he’d wished that he had a woman in his life whom he could love, and who would love him in return.
Wouldn’t it be nice if that woman were Bee?
He shook his head at that rogue thought. “She enjoys my body, but nothing more. She deserves a mate who will be able to provide her with everything she desires. No, I’ll just have to keep her at an arm’s length, emotionally speaking. We can enjoy each other physically, but nothing more. We’ll both be happier that way.”
His reflection looked doubtful and more than a little disbelieving of that statement, but Constantine didn’t give himself time to dwell on the subject. He finished removing the last of his garments, turned the water on as hot as he could stand it, and stepped into the shower.
Cold air hitting his back was his first warning. Bee’s scream echoing in the small bathroom was the second, but by that time, he had her up against the wall, holding her by her neck a good foot off the ground, his claws pricking into her flesh.
“Ack!” she said, grabbing at his arm.
Instantly, he released her, worriedly watching her take a couple of deep breaths of air. She was now naked, but he tried not to notice that fact while preserving an expression that was both contrite and concerned. “I’m sorry, I did not know you would surprise me like that.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice a croak that she cleared with a little cough. “It’s my fault. I should know better than to startle a dragon.”
“Especially one who left you sound asleep,” he agreed, dabbing at a little spot of blood where one of his claws had scratched her. “Did you want something?”
She made an odd gesture, an embarrassed expression fighting with a smile. “Yes. You. I heard the shower, and thought I’d join you. I’m a mess, and I thought we could—er—I thought—”
“Ah,” he said, delighted. “You wish to engage in sexual activity in the shower. I applaud such a spirit, but I am a silver dragon.”
He waited for her to say she understood.
Instead she looked puzzled. “And?”
“The green dragon’s element is water. It is not mine.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “And that means what?”
“Silver dragons don’t like water. We like the earth and the forests and plant lore. We are master gardeners and healers. If you’d like to make love outside, I would be happy to introduce you to the dragon chase.”
Bee blinked her brown lashes a couple of times, then waved him aside, and stepped into the shower, cocking her hip as she struck a pose. “No? All right, then. I’ll just take a shower by my lonesome.”
“Water is a necessary evil, and not at all enjoyable,” he said, but as if he was pulled, found himself following her into the shower. There was something about the sight of her standing there, all slick, silken skin, and hips and breasts and legs, and all those other bits of her that he loved.
“Perhaps, but soapy skin can be so very, very slippery.” She soaped up a cloth, and ran it across her chest, and instantly his head was filled with thoughts of his fingers doing a soapy dance across slick, satiny skin.
He sucked in his breath, inhaled a little water, and spent a moment coughing it out of his lungs before he gave up his desire to talk her into lovemaking in another room, and took possession of the soap and cloth.
“Sorry. Are you okay now?” Bee asked, her expression full of remorse.
“Yes. But you see the danger of doing this in the presence of water. Why do we not get dressed, and find a nice private park—”
“There’s no such thing in Paris.” Bee moved around him so that the water was to his back, and stroked a hand across his shoulder to his chest, and down to his belly. “But don’t let me stop you if you need to get a breath of fresh air. Personally, I much prefer the privacy of a cozy room. And I have to say, making love in the shower has always been one of my fantasies, but that’s not really your problem, is it?”
“I shall make it my problem,” he said nobly, well aware of the fact that she was fast driving him to distraction, no matter if they were in the shower. He took both of her breasts in his hands, enjoying the weight of them, as well as the wet flesh that slid so enticingly across his palms. He also enjoyed the way her breath hitched when he bent down to flick his tongue across the nipples. “I have always been in support of fulfilling sexual fantasies, so it would be only right for me to fulfill yours. If you touch me there again, however, I will not be responsible for what happens.”
Bee, who had been gently tugging at his testicles while stroking his penis, paused. “Touch you where? Which hand?”
“Both.” He took a long, shuddering breath that had nothing to do with being in the shower, and everything to do with the enticing woman who was even now trying to rub herself all over him in an attempt to drive him insane with lust. “If you won’t let me chase you outside in a park, then let me at least take you to my bed.”
