To Tame a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,24

fog having thinned a bit, he still burned with desire for her. But while Dragonsbane’s influence on him waxed and waned in waves, his longing for the human had only grown. It was an itch he could not scratch, an ache he could not soothe.

His cock, still hard and extruding from his slit, throbbed with the remembered sensations of his mating with the human, throbbed with a yearning for more of her.

Falthyris clamped his jaw shut and pressed his lips into a tight line. His mind raced through everything he knew about the female—her heady scent, her warmth, her smooth, soft skin, the musical quality that sometimes crept into her voice as she spoke, and those dark, steady eyes that seemed to look straight into his soul. No creature had ever looked at him with such directness, such intensity—at least not since his own sire, who had been dead for many centuries.

Thick patches of clouds had gathered in the twilit sky, blocking Dragonsbane from sight. The Red Heat still shimmered in the air, but with the comet not currently visible it was easier to ignore its effects—if only marginally. The horizon was aglow with grayish light that would soon enough burst into gold and orange, painting the mountains and the desert in that pure, unique light that only existed in the brief time immediately after sunrise. Falthyris had not witnessed that in decades, if not longer.

He scanned the landscape below, running his gaze over sand, stone, and rugged vegetation. Tiny creatures scurried here and there amidst the plants and rocks, taking advantage of the shadows, which were temporarily deeper thanks to the transitioning light. Falthyris should not have noticed any of them—like humans, these desert vermin should have been too small and insignificant to warrant his attention.

The female had disrupted everything.

When he flicked out his tongue, he caught the scent of fresh water on the air. Perhaps a drink, paired with the water’s soothing music, would help clear his head.

Spreading his wings, he caught a downward current and rode it toward the river canyon. His wings pitched and tilted as he sought his balance in this clumsy human form. He managed to maintain a straight course, at the very least, which was a marked improvement over his other attempts at flight since his change.

His feet came down upon soft grass along the riverbank, and his momentum carried him forward a few paces before he drew to a halt. He pulled his wings in tight and rolled his shoulders. The river flowed behind him, its presence like a cool breath on his back, but he did not immediately turn to face it.

There was a scent in the air. A familiar scent.

Falthyris extended his tongue to catch that smell, and his body tensed as soon as he’d sampled it—it was his human’s fragrance. Not just her feminine scent, as sweet as flowers blossoming under a desert moon, but the scent of her arousal. The scent of their mating.

His gaze dropped, falling upon an object on the ground nearby, lying beside a small patch of flattened grass. A bag.

The human’s bag.

Falthyris’s heartfire flared as he spun about to survey his surroundings. He barely bit back an enraged roar. He’d unwittingly returned to the very spot where his human had lured him in, the spot where she’d stolen everything from him.

He curled his hands into fists, squeezed his eyes shut, and filled his lungs with cool air. He could not allow himself to overlook what the human had done. He could not allow himself to forget what she had taken. The pleasure he had obtained from her body was fleeting, as ephemeral as the relief provided by his releases. It would never be worth the price he’d paid.

And yet even now, he felt that pull toward her, and his cock twitched with anticipation and desire. Falthyris clamped a hand around the base of his shaft and growled. His body was betraying him—not that it was truly his to begin with.

When images of the human’s lithe body, with that smooth, tan skin and those enticing black markings flitted into the darkness behind his eyelids, he knew it was not merely this accursed body working against him. His own mind had turned on itself.

And was that not what the female desired? Was that not a matter of her asserting dominance over him? He should have been able to crush her underfoot, scrape off the mess on a rock with an air of distaste, and move on