Curse of the Fae (PA #3)

Chapter Thirteen

Romeo (Lust)

I want to think that my screams are dignified.

And yes, 'dignified' was on my word-of-the-day calendar. It means, like, fancy and serious. Respectable? Maybe it was respectable.

Anyway, point being, my shrieks of terror carry an edge of dignify-cation (mental note to ask Low if that's a real word; if not, I'm making it one) as Kian flies us over the realm.

Kian's dragon form doesn't have flexible fingers, so his claws pierce through my shoulders to maintain a good grip. The stickiness of my blood reminds me of Willow and what she's up to.

Devil, what I wouldn't give to be in Ragnar's place. I nearly had a stroke when she modeled the blue lingerie set, and it's since been the star of my nightly fantasies.

My oldest brother is one lucky not-bastard to unwrap her when she's dressed like that. To map out her smooth skin, taste her plump lips, and slide into that perfect pussy for the first time.

Okay, super inconvenient moment to pop a boner. Romeo Junior punches against my zipper like Willow's waiting for us on the other side.

The pain of metal indenting my dick should convince me to stop going commando, but alas. I like having fewer barriers between me and Low. In my perfect world, we'd both be naked at all times.

When we reach the arena, Kian attempts to release me from his clutches. His plan is probably to drop me—with or without care for my survival of the fall—and locate Willow. Considering what state he'll find her in, it's essential that I stall the psychotic shifter.

Instead of allowing him to potentially kill me and then my brother, I wrap both hands around his...paws? What do you call dragon hands?

He huffs his displeasure with my interference, but he's not at a good angle to stream torrents of water at me. Understanding that I'm not going anywhere even after he shakes me, the dragon dives to the floor of the arena.

I brace for impact, imagining myself flattening into a sexy pancake. One that Low will scrape off the ground and—

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Even I can't make that scenario sexual.

Nope, never mind, I've got it.

Low will scrape my sexy pancake self off the hard-packed sand, where she'll find me hard and packed and ready to go. I can break every bone in my body, 'cause you don't need bones to fuck when you have a boner and—

Ouch.

I land on my feet like a cat, the shock of inertia—or whichever physics concept applies here—reverberating up my body so bad that it shakes my teeth like they're made of jello.

I'm less sexy pancake and more vibrating statue.

Still fuckable though.

Kian shifts into his human-ish form, so now we're holding hands like the besties we are. There's also a 90-10 chance that he's naked since he often forgets to use magic to keep his clothes in this form.

"Be honest, Kian. Is that your dick rubbing against my ass or are you just happy to see me?"

The joke is lost on him like most jokes are. I swear we'll make a comedian out of him someday.

"I will be happy to see you dead."

Ah, lovely. We're dealing with Kian's dragon who's even less sane than Kian, and who also does not like me much at all.

Obviously, he has terrible taste, but I'm nothing if not persistent. He'll love me eventually.

I let go of one of his hands, keeping the other firmly in mine. Turning around, I smile widely at the pissed-off dragon.