Free Lord Dragon's Conquest by Sharon Ashwood Page A

through the air like fireworks, disappearing until the theater was silent.
    The whole thing took less than a minute. Almost at once, Keltie and her personal dragon were alone.
    The beast landed on the path above—the path that led to an exit and freedom. He set Keltie carefully on the ground. She crawled away on her hands and knees, a part of her tempted to bolt the moment she was clear of the fangs. But as she scrambled to her feet, she turned, because she knew. This was the largest of the dragons, a huge male shaded from black to the lustrous blue-green of the peacock, and he had brilliant green eyes.
    “Larkan,” Keltie whispered, and her legs gave way. She fell to her knees, exhaustion, wonder and relief robbing her of the power to stand. She reached up, and the dragon pushed its huge head into her hand the way a cat would. “You saved me.”
    There was a shimmer, and then Larkan knelt over her in human form. He wore no clothes, but it was his expression that was entirely naked. “I want you.”
    The pure, raw lust in his voice heated her blood like strong drink. Whatever drove the festival—pheromones, full moon or magic—was affecting her, too. All thoughts of danger faded like smoke, blown aside by an intense need to feel his body against hers. She wound her arms around Larkan’s neck, her darkest, most childlike need bubbling up from deep inside. “Prove you want me. Prove you think I’m good enough to be one of you.”
    “Of course,” he said, with the solemnity of a vow. “Anything you ask. You are the only one I want. You are my tribe.”
    He kissed her, leaning forward until she was on her back on the hard stone floor. She made a noise of protest, wanting something softer to lie upon. But then he was a dragon again, and she was clutched in his talons, securely tucked against his inky black chest. With a mighty snap, his wings carried her up and up over the amphitheater, circling skyward as the other dragons had done. And then she understood where they were going. There was an upward path through the mountain and in moments they burst into the open, starlit sky. Keltie whooped as the wind tore through her hair, but Larkan’s body sheltered her from the worst buffeting.
    Exhilarated, Keltie turned her cheek to the soft, warm hide of his chest so that she could see. She gasped with delight. The night was filled with the gossamer wings of dragons. Blue, green, white and gray, they veiled the moon with their muted hues. Tails and necks wound together in the elaborate ballet of the mating flight, starlight shimmering on jewel-like hides. The sight was as elegant as a ballroom in the sky.
    Larkan set her down in a hidden valley that was sheltered from the wind. It was cold, the air icy with the kiss of coming winter, but there was a small cave lined with soft leaves and sweet-smelling pine. A bundle of skins made their bed, and a fire was already laid. It was lit in an instant, and then Larkan was human and naked beside her. There was no need for words. Just his lips, and his strong arms, and the hot drive for the two of them to be one.
    Her clothes were lost before she touched the bed. His mouth was on her breast, kneading and pulling at her until he had almost suckled her to madness. The hard length of him pushed against her belly, tantalizing her. She writhed against him, aching for relief, but he merely switched to her other breast, turning her insides to liquid heat.
    “Now,” she begged. “Now.”
    He cupped her aching core with his hand, teasing her with his fingers. “Not yet.”
    She made an angry, needy noise, pushing him over until she was on top. “Now.”
    He slid two fingers inside her, making her gasp and shudder. Her mind went fuzzy with an overload of sensation as she pushed against him, but that only made the tension inside her build until she thought she would break.
    Two could play at that. She reached down and grasped the hard length of him, stroking until his breathing grew ragged.