Free Dragon Fall: Masters of the Flame 3 (Mating Fever) by Elsa Jade Page A

of need was bottomless.
    When she was headed off to boarding school after her nannies were done with her, her mother had taken her chin in one hand, turned her face side to side, then kissed her on each cheek and told her to watch out for the other children. “They’re spoiled little brats,” she said, “but not like you. You’re the real deal, darling. Rich already, beautiful already, fucked already.” She let out a little laugh when Esme merely stared at her. “And quiet too. Well, that’s a plus for our kind. Just remember: don’t cry where they can see you. Everybody likes rich, beautiful tears, but they aren’t worth shit.”
    Worst of all, her mother wasn’t wrong.
    Maybe it wasn’t the same for a dragon lord. But from the distant look in his eyes and the way he held himself so stiffly, she thought maybe it was.
    He must be wondering what she wanted from him. What else , since he’d already given her the first—and best—and second and better, for that matter—orgasms of her life.
    To him, she wasn’t a spoiled little rich girl or a virgin sacrifice. She was…just Esme. Basically nothing. Exactly as she’d asked of him. Yet here she was, standing in his space, wanting more.
    And he’d already told her he didn’t have anything to give, that his clan needed everything he had left in him. She was just being greedy coming here—the first time in her life she actually wanted something she couldn’t have.
    “Never mind.” She spun on her heel, her cheeks burning hotter than the flames dancing in the wrought iron braziers.
    She stared at the elevator, trying to hurry it along with the force of her mind. That would be a useful magical power. Escape from awkward self-inflicted situations was way better than immortality, since who wanted to live forever with the memories of all those awkward self-inflicted situations?
    There’d never been so much light in the cavern, and she couldn’t help but see the blurred shape of him reflected in the brushed steel of the closed elevator doors. He loomed behind her, a dark bulk threatening to eclipse her fuzzy paleness in the white linen and dove-gray skirt.
    “Why did you come here?”
    She shot a sidelong glance over her shoulder. “I was brainwashed by a warlock, kidnapped by one of my best friends, and supposedly celebrating my bachelorette party?”
    He moved directly into her line of sight, and she had to tighten every muscle to stop herself from leaning toward him, drawn like some silly hothouse flower to a darkly radiant sun.
    He pressed closer. “Why did you come here ? To me?”
    So awkward. Was she supposed to admit she wanted to be fucked again? And more than that, honestly. She’d wanted to maybe talk this time. In the dark would’ve been fine—easier, even. In this cavern, she’d woken up without the gnawing emptiness for the first time in…longer than she could remember, maybe ever. Because he had been there.
    But he had bigger concerns than her: the Keep, the dragons, a homicidal warlock, and, oh yeah, his own life.
    “It was a mistake,” she said.
    “No mistake. That elevator goes one place: here.”
    She ground her teeth together and paused. She’d never done that before. Orthodontia was expensive—her mother had complained about the price while swiping her triple-platinum credit card—and it hurt, and anyway, Esme knew better than to display such temper. But now…it felt good to grind the words she wanted to say, sharpening their edges before she opened her mouth. “I woke up thinking maybe we could go for round two. Or would it be three, technically? And then, I don’t know, maybe get brunch. But you were gone.”
    Oops. She hadn’t meant to say that, or at least not quite that way. …Okay, she had meant to say that, and fuck the awkwardness.
    He stared at her. With its burning, bright-hued jewels and lingering shadows, the hall was a mysterious, fitting backdrop for this dragon lord.
    But she’d like him even better naked in