To Enchant a Dragon by Amanda Milo Page 0,19

you won’t remember your name.”

“You are horrible. How about those three words?” she asks tightly.

Grinning, I tease my tongue at the beginning of her cleft. “Sorry.” I lap her, making her thighs shiver. “You’ll need to try again. Those aren’t the three words I’m waiting to hear.”

My tongue has been training for the length of a lunar cycle, and I know exactly how to please my female.

By now, I’ve built the oral strength to last all night, and we do. Of course, it helps that I take little breaks at all the most inconvenient moments.

“You scaly bastard!” Adella screams at one point when I’ve worked her up until I have to pin her wrists to stop her from ripping out her own hair.

Wyvern knows she’s already tried to rip out mine.

Kissing her twitching thigh, I murmur, “No, my love, I’m sorry—those still aren’t the right three words.” I clutch her wrists in one hand and move for the spot between her legs that is looking like it’s just about licked sore.

My lips are teasing her puffy, swollen hood, pulling it, my ears tuned to her furious curses when she finally cries, “All right! You win—Kalos, I love you.” She tries to kick me, but her legs are too weak for her to give me any kind of power when her foot lands on the meat of my shoulder. “I love you, you prick! Now please, for the love of the sea, let me come!”

I surge up her body and take her mouth, tasting the sweetness here as my tangy saliva from mauling her body mingles between us, making her even more wild. “My cock, my fingers, or my mouth?” I murmur to her, shoving my forearm under her, dragging her against me.

Her fists grip my hair; my sore scalp protests, but my body loves it, craves her roughness. Adella loves me. “You,” she growls, “owe me all of those things until I come so hard I don’t remember your name.”

I laugh softly against her lips, my eyes shining into her rainbow-marked ones. “Love, let’s be honest. When I make you come, you’ll be screaming my name.”

Technically, we’re both wrong. She sings it. And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

CHAPTER 11

ADELLA

Dragons are sneaky. Especially the dragon I happen to love. Still, I hold his hand and I march with my head high, walking a faded footpath that takes us right to the water’s edge at the cove. It took us days to reach, but not nearly as many as I expected it would. Seems my constant nudging and edging of Kalos in this general direction got us farther than I ever thought. And he let me have my way because all he wants is to see me happy, just as long as I’m happy with him.

Screams fill the air when my sisters see me.

“Your tail!” Sirena cries. Her bright poppy-hued hair and marigold scales sparkle as brilliantly as ever.

“Look at those freakish legs!” Katiana laments. She’s rose and amethyst and beauty.

“My stars, I think your legs make your ass look even bigger,” Ianthe comments.

I sputter. “Oh, you’ll pay for that.”

“Did you piss off a dark elf?” Pearl cries. “How did this happen?”

I blow her a kiss. “You are the only sister I love. Thank you for caring.”

Nerissa, my raven-haired, raven-scaled sister, splashes them with water. “Hey, now—this is cause for a celebration.”

Everyone’s shocked gaze flies to her.

She gestures to me. “Remember when Adella had the prettiest fins?” She smiles, her eyes shimmering. “Not anymore. Now the rest of us have a chance to lay a man first!”

Playful agreements ring out, mostly to cover their pity as they glance back at my tail-less self.

I appreciate their teasing, their making light of my change, and I welcome it with open arms. “Ugh! You sea witches,” I shout at them, laughing.

And I don’t know how they could have missed him, but all at once, everyone’s attention swings to the man holding my hand. The dragon who stands proudly at my side, in human form.

“And who have you brought with you?” Nixie asks breathily.

“Never mind—who needs to know his name?” Patrice licks her lips.

“And look at his eyes,” Ianthe purrs. “That’s no regular man,” she says, tossing back her mahogany tresses that gleam so prettily.

My hackles raise at all of them.

“Sea cows’ tits—look at his dick!” Patrice cries. Her nephrite-colored eyes fly to me. “Can my tail tangle with him first?” Her hand reaches behind her to the clasp of her seashells.

It sets