It made it three steps in my direction when hot stuff there gave me an up-close look at hungry, hungry dragon. The chomp followed by the crunch of bones was both awesome in its display of power and utterly disgusting.
No sooner had he done it and swallowed did he look at me. Lowering my hands, I met that stare. “One, if you belch right now, you will find a dick shaped hole where your cock used to be. You might be big and scaley at the moment, but you gotta play shrinky dinky sooner or later.” Head cocked, the dragon stared at me, his inner eyelids blinked once. “Second, you better gargle with like industrial strength bleach before you try to bring your mouth anywhere near me.”
Just. Saying.
Ugh.
I had never been so utterly turned on and repulsed by the same action.
What? I was complicated. Suck it.
For the most part, Mad-Dragon—that name was totally sticking—huffed a sound that might have been laughter, even as a hint of fire burst from his nose. Was that the dragon equivalent of a giggle-snort? He continued toward me, showering more debris down from above, and his eyes shifted imperceptibly. The air around him shimmered like a desert mirage.
The temperature in the hallway left me sweating, but I could live with it. Deodorant would have been nice. But who was going to complain? Right, Mad-Dragon of flaming breath and questionable eating habits—I wasn’t going to worry about that. He began to draw back to his original size. The flicker of surprise on his face had me twisting and whirling just as a boot scraped the stone not far from me.
Guard uniforms.
I didn’t wait for whoever this was to identify themselves, I struck. Fortunately for me—yes, I said I was weird—they were also mid-strike as they swung the equivalent of a glowing billy club in my direction.
Catching his wrist as he was mid-downswing, I twisted and lunged forward, slamming the heel of my hand right at his crotch. Armor or not, the impact sent a jolt up my arm, but he still hissed, and his grip on the billy club of doom faltered. I didn’t wait for it to fall as I slid right into him. The lust wafting from him was also tinged with fear. He didn’t want me so much as he wanted desperately to contain me.
Too.
Fucking.
Bad.
As the billy club hit the floor, I clasped his face and yanked it down for a kiss. Shock turned him rigid as I soaked in even his watered down lust. It wasn’t much, more like the soggy French fry at the bottom of the bag. It filled the hole, but lacked any kind of satisfaction. The guy sagged, and no sooner had I begun to feed, then he was yanked away. I hissed, but Maddox glared at me as he snapped the guy’s neck. The man dropped without another word.
“You want to feed, you feed on me. Until then, we’re moving.”
Well. Fuck you, too.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Dragon Boy M,” I told him, but when he snagged me close to him, two things hit me in the same breath.
If I’d thought he was warm in the cell, he was a thousand times hotter in the hall. His skin should be steaming, he was so hot. The second thing? He was naked. Absolutely, gloriously, one hundred percent naked. He was definitely sexy with a capital damn.
The weight of his cock poked at the too thin fabric of my so-called uniform, and I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze. Yeah, there might have been the vaguest amount of drool involved.
Vaguest.
Possibly.
A few drops.
Fuck. Me.
Why did he have to do this now when we were leaving the enforced isolation with the very tiny bed?
As if reading my mind—or maybe my body, ‘cause it got there several seconds before my brain did—Maddox dipped his head. Laser focused on that sensuous mouth, it took me a whole extra-half a heartbeat to put my hand over it before he got too close.
He just ate someone or something.
Right.
Big crunch.
Gross. Hot.
“Gargle. With. Bleach.” At the reminder, his eyes crinkled and his smirk pressed against my palm. Catching my hand, he bit down on my palm. Not enough to break skin, but enough that the pressure of his teeth sent an answering pulse straight to my pussy.
Really not the time.
Course, now I was hungry, and he’d killed off my limp noodle of a snack.