DragonMate Read Online Free Page B
Author: Jory Strong
to his shoulders in waves she wanted to touch. A broad chest and muscular arms begged to be caressed. And his lips…
Pleasure. They were made for it—both giving and receiving it.
Jazzlyn shivered as she realized her perusal of him was chaste compared to the one he gave her. He stripped her with his eyes. Bent her over the counter and fucked her where she stood.
The heat in her cheeks deepened. Escaping the shop was impossible.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t utter a single word.
She was drowning in lust and confusion. She was totally out of her depth.
“I am Kirill.”
His name rumbled through her saying something more. Y ou are mine.
Her nipples tightened painfully and her cunt clenched. “Jazzlyn,” she managed, amazed she could even remember who she was given the intensity of his stare and the effect he had on her.
She licked her lips and he stepped further into her personal space, swamping her with his heat and scent, making her lightheaded with it. She yielded, stepping back involuntarily only to have her escape blocked by the counter.
Movement, Aislinn’s hand settling on Kirill’s arm, reminded Jazzlyn of where she was and why she was there. More color slid into her cheeks, though her embarrassment didn’t deepen. If anyone could witness what had just happened between her and Kirill, and accept it as perfectly normal, it was Aislinn.
“I promised Jazzlyn safety from whatever came of holding the mirror,” Aislinn said.
Kirill only barely resisted the urge to roar and breathe fire. The hope he’d nurtured even after journeying from the portal and realizing his soon-to-be mate was going to be found in Inner Magick went up in flames and left him cursing sorcerers, elves, and his fate in general.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, was it so much to ask that after centuries of suffering a thing many males would prefer death rather than endure, that coming to this magic-poor realm, collecting his mate, and returning home would be an easy task?
Oh, he’d known the coordinates of the location where Jazzlyn would hold the mirror, but he’d had no reason to venture here until now.
Of all the places, why this one?
True, he’d never been here, but he knew of it from the reports he’d gotten when he was seeking an heir and considering Xanthus.
Marika worked here and called Aislinn her friend. And now the half-elf had offered Jazzlyn a promise of safety, a guarantee that would no doubt be enforced by the three dragon lords who had guards posted outside the shop.
Kirill suppressed his fire by will alone, pushing it deep inside where it melded to that scorching through his cock at being so close to his mate. Think , he ordered himself, forcing his eyes off Jazzlyn because it was nearly impossible to consider anything other than gaining possession of her when he looked at her.
The mirror came into focus. It was a match to the one he’d held centuries earlier, except for the gems. Once they’d been sorcerer stones, now they were something else entirely.
A closer look and satisfaction purred through him. Heartstone.
They were clear now where moments earlier they’d been blue and silver. Dragon colors. His colors.
He turned his head and met the soft lavender of the half-elf’s eyes. She knew Jazzlyn belonged to him. So why had she chosen to meddle?
As if guessing his thoughts, Aislinn said, “It’s good you arrived when you did. I recognize your name. If I’m not mistaken you’re related to Xanthus.”
“I am,” he said, wondering what game the half-elf was playing.
“Jazzlyn came for my help. She’s afraid her cousin is in danger and—”
“No!”
The denial was out before Kirill could stop it. And in its wake came the cooling of his soon-to-be mate’s scent.
A single glance at her expression communicated his error clearly. Determination and distance had replaced desire. A
Pleasure. They were made for it—both giving and receiving it.
Jazzlyn shivered as she realized her perusal of him was chaste compared to the one he gave her. He stripped her with his eyes. Bent her over the counter and fucked her where she stood.
The heat in her cheeks deepened. Escaping the shop was impossible.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t utter a single word.
She was drowning in lust and confusion. She was totally out of her depth.
“I am Kirill.”
His name rumbled through her saying something more. Y ou are mine.
Her nipples tightened painfully and her cunt clenched. “Jazzlyn,” she managed, amazed she could even remember who she was given the intensity of his stare and the effect he had on her.
She licked her lips and he stepped further into her personal space, swamping her with his heat and scent, making her lightheaded with it. She yielded, stepping back involuntarily only to have her escape blocked by the counter.
Movement, Aislinn’s hand settling on Kirill’s arm, reminded Jazzlyn of where she was and why she was there. More color slid into her cheeks, though her embarrassment didn’t deepen. If anyone could witness what had just happened between her and Kirill, and accept it as perfectly normal, it was Aislinn.
“I promised Jazzlyn safety from whatever came of holding the mirror,” Aislinn said.
Kirill only barely resisted the urge to roar and breathe fire. The hope he’d nurtured even after journeying from the portal and realizing his soon-to-be mate was going to be found in Inner Magick went up in flames and left him cursing sorcerers, elves, and his fate in general.
By the Great Shared Ancestor, was it so much to ask that after centuries of suffering a thing many males would prefer death rather than endure, that coming to this magic-poor realm, collecting his mate, and returning home would be an easy task?
Oh, he’d known the coordinates of the location where Jazzlyn would hold the mirror, but he’d had no reason to venture here until now.
Of all the places, why this one?
True, he’d never been here, but he knew of it from the reports he’d gotten when he was seeking an heir and considering Xanthus.
Marika worked here and called Aislinn her friend. And now the half-elf had offered Jazzlyn a promise of safety, a guarantee that would no doubt be enforced by the three dragon lords who had guards posted outside the shop.
Kirill suppressed his fire by will alone, pushing it deep inside where it melded to that scorching through his cock at being so close to his mate. Think , he ordered himself, forcing his eyes off Jazzlyn because it was nearly impossible to consider anything other than gaining possession of her when he looked at her.
The mirror came into focus. It was a match to the one he’d held centuries earlier, except for the gems. Once they’d been sorcerer stones, now they were something else entirely.
A closer look and satisfaction purred through him. Heartstone.
They were clear now where moments earlier they’d been blue and silver. Dragon colors. His colors.
He turned his head and met the soft lavender of the half-elf’s eyes. She knew Jazzlyn belonged to him. So why had she chosen to meddle?
As if guessing his thoughts, Aislinn said, “It’s good you arrived when you did. I recognize your name. If I’m not mistaken you’re related to Xanthus.”
“I am,” he said, wondering what game the half-elf was playing.
“Jazzlyn came for my help. She’s afraid her cousin is in danger and—”
“No!”
The denial was out before Kirill could stop it. And in its wake came the cooling of his soon-to-be mate’s scent.
A single glance at her expression communicated his error clearly. Determination and distance had replaced desire. A
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