Driven by Dragonblood, page 2
part #3 of Blood Born Series
My eyes opened on their own as though needing their fill of the sexy man. “I’m outta here tomorrow.”
Doc Macaire’s lips didn’t move, but I swore a whisper—and not my own inner voice—groaned with displeasure.
Gaze narrowed, I stared at Doc as he rifled through the file left in front of him and jotted down a note or two on the inside cover. I wasn’t about to mention the voice I heard. God knew I’d never get out of Lockwood.
“Problem, Doc?” I asked, studying his furrowed brow across the top rim of his glasses.
He heaved a sigh, laid his pen down, and seemed to gather his thoughts, reining in the displeasure pinching his face.
Half of me actually wanted to stay longer, find out what it was about him that drew me in like a kid to a candy store with the most mouthwatering bins of free sour gummies.
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
He settled back in his chair, hands still on his desk as though using it to stabilize his inner thoughts. “What will you do?”
“Doc Holliday helped me land a job. I start Monday.” I swallowed again—and fought the need to shift beneath his stare. “He helped me find a small apartment across town, too.”
“Who is paying for it?”
None of his damn business, but he’d read my file and knew my parents made sure I got the best of care, the best of everything—except acceptance and love.
“I’ve got savings.”
“Do you have access to it?”
“Yes. It’s all mine. Parents’ names aren’t even on it.”
He nodded absently while glancing away and shifting his own ass on the chair at the same time I did, as though he, too, sported a hard-on in need of a man’s grip.
Yes.
“What?” I asked.
“Hmm?” He returned his piercing stare on me.
“Did you whisper something?”
The doctor’s brow furrowed again, but didn’t lessen the sexual tension—energy—zapping between us.
“Never mind.” I tossed out a crooked grin, the one that usually got me laid. “So yeah, I’m going to start my new life, the one my parents stole from me. I was a kid with a big imagination, you know?” My laughter sounded forced to my own ears. “I had a hard time keeping my head out of the clouds and feet on the ground.”
“Literally.”
I cleared my throat, my grin fading as I struggled to hold his gaze. “Yeah, but I was high. Being stupid.”
“And the times before?”
I shrugged, even though the itch to jump off every edge sometimes took me to the edge before my brain caught up. “What kid doesn’t want to be Superman?”
The silence stifled, the click of Doc Holliday’s clock on the wall like a gong with every passing second, heightening my need to jerk off, fuck, or leap off a goddamn cliff.
“You’re going to be all right out there on your own? No parents? No roommates?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
A few more seconds of breath-holding need, and he pulled a card from the top desk drawer. He scribbled something on it and handed it across the desk. “I live a few blocks from here. If you ever need anything—”
My fingers grazed his as I took the card, and I bit my lips to keep a gasp from escaping as fire raced up my arm, settling in the pit of my stomach. Talk about fucking aching balls. Drawn up and tight as fuck, same as when I’d first smelled the new doc.
His scruff twitched as though he clenched his jaw, and I studied him a brief moment, wondering if he’d felt the same thing I had. Doc Macaire cleared his throat first, but didn’t stand to see me out.
“See ya later, Doc,” I said, spinning the second I stood so he wouldn’t see the bulge in my pants—or the wet spot from the pre-cum leaking out of my dick. What was it with that shit lately?
Every step away from his desk, out the door, down the hallway, stretched thin the strange energy I’d felt until I got to the cafeteria for breakfast and it disappeared completely.
Chapter Three
Patrick
Jaxon rocked the bottom stones of my life’s foundation. The boy reminded me so much of myself—hearing voices as a kid, and according to his file, the fact he wouldn’t shut up about them landing him in psych ward after psych ward. At least I’d learned to keep my mouth shut after my second stint in a bleach-coated, white room.
I had ignored the voice always whispering in my brain, and through meditation, learned how to build a wall around whatever the darkness in my soul was until all evidence of it no longer existed.
Being fucked-up in the head as a kid made me curious about the brain, thus the career choice I’d made. Meeting Jaxon was the first time someone had tickled those memories enough that a whisper of unease over the stability of my walls licked at my spine. He also made me question my sanity in a whole other way—my sexuality and how I’d never once been attracted to another male.
He was so young that the word pedophile whispered in my head even though I knew he was of legal age. Just the thought of my finding him attractive turned my stomach. A patient. Eighteen years old.
But my hard-on refused to be talked down.
The scent of his soap, the earthy scent of the skin beneath, still lingered in the air, filling my nose and tightening my balls. Deeply bowed, his top lip created sinful images in my head of shoving my dick so far down his throat he’d gag. I wanted his greenish-blue eyes watering as he tried to take every inch.
“Fuck.” Grumbling a few more curses, I shook my head and shifted my weight from one hip to another, trying to get my mind off the kid.
I thought of my home life, the crazy girlfriend I’d been putting up with for too long, the one who just the night before told me she needed some space—time to figure us out. More like, she needed to figure her own self out. The woman had issues, but wouldn’t allow me to help her or even offer suggestions on what she could do for her mental health.
Temptation to toss her out, box up her shit, and change the locks had occupied my head for over two weeks, and the appearance, the nearness of Jaxon alone made up my mind. Perhaps my lack of luck in the love area troubled my past because I’d been focused on women. Perhaps it was time to bat for the other team for a while, see if that didn’t erase the loneliness inside that no woman had been able to ease.
I huffed a heavy breath through my nose and glanced around the new office, the one I’d agreed to help out in until Lockwood could find someone to permanently fill Doctor Holliday’s shoes. With a new private practice across town that I’d only begun to expand, God knew I had the time.
Teeth gritted against the unrelenting stiff dick in my slacks, I pulled the next file from atop the twenty or so high stack and covered the one I needed to keep my mind off.
****
I got home to find a Dear John letter on the kitchen table, and I wasn’t one bit upset. Relief lifted a weight off my shoulders, and I cracked open a beer, sucking it down to cool off the heat still racing through my blood.
I’d caught sight of Jaxon twice while in the hallways at Lockwood, and both times, he’d swiveled to face me, his sexy grin, the one I’m sure got plenty of women in his bed, making my dick throb—and not just for a good, hard fuck. Images of darker desires, whips and chains, marking and claiming every inch of his young skin, had me on edge.
While the BDSM lifestyle hadn’t ever piqued my interest before, I couldn’t stop thinking about tying him to the posts of my bed and flogging his backside red before burying myself balls-deep in his tight ass.
“Christ.” I clunked the empty beer bottle onto my kitchen table and grabbed my dick through my slacks. “Fuck it.” I freed my straining length, and the pre-cum welling on the head eased the downward slide of my hand. A few more curses rang in my head as I jacked off while standing in my kitchen, copious amounts of pre-cum leaking to ease my grip. Flashes of images raced through my head as though I’d already had Jaxon beneath me, vivid enough I could smell the muskiness of our fucking, his soap. Even his groans filled my ears.
Teeth clenched, I jerked hard and fast, my balls tightening and tingling. I wanted Jaxon with a fierceness I didn’t understand—as though he belonged to me. Mine to dominate, mine to pleasure. Mine to love.
Yes…
The darkness whispered past my defenses as my climax slammed into me, cum spurting all over my hand and the end of my dress shirt I held close to capture the ropes of sticky white I wanted to see dripping out of Jaxon’s ass.
My ears rang and heart raced as I realized the voice within me had actually spoken once more. Although I’d shot off what seemed a double batch of cum, my shoulders tensed and brow furrowed.
Jaxon, or the thought of him, rather, had cracked my defenses, and there was no fucking way I could allow—
“What the fuck, Pat?”
I clenched my eyes shut at the slurred voice I knew all too fucking well, the goddamn shortened version of my name I couldn’t stand.
“Jerking off in the goddamn kitchen over my letter?” Jessie snorted, pulling my focus to the kitchen door. She stood wavering on the threshold, eyes bloodshot and hazed. “You’re one sick fuck.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Damn straight!” She laughed and bumped her way toward the kitchen table, slamming her bony hip on one of the chairs. “Goddamnit,” she muttered, kicking the chair and almost falling over.
I turned my back and grabbed some paper towels to wipe up the mess I’d made. “Thought you weren’t coming back.”
“Yeah … didn’t plan on it, but I’ve got no other place to go, you know?”
My jaw clenched so damn hard an instant headache settled behind my eyes. “Call your sister.”
“I’m not callin’ that bitch.”
I tossed the cum-drenched paper towels in the waste can, put my dick away, and pulled off my sticky shirt to ball it up. By the time I turned around, Jessie had laid her head on the table beside the note she’d left, out cold.
“Fuck this.” I strode into the entryway and rifled through her handbag for her cell phone. Her sister answered the third time I tried calling.
“The fuck you want?” she growled.
“It’s Patrick. Your sister is passed out at the kitchen table and needs a place to crash.”
“She’s there, isn’t she? Put her in your goddamn bed.”
And I’d thought Jessie was a bitch. “She’s not welcome here.” I cut each word, trying like hell to keep from raising my voice as I pulled my house key off Jessie’s keychain.
“Well, I’m not coming to get her.”
“Then she’s sleeping out on the front porch.”
“Bastard.”
“She’s the one who wrote the letter saying she fucking hated me, didn’t want to stay one more goddamn night under the same roof as me. Need I go on?”
“Just let her sleep it off there. Chances are, she’ll be all over your dick come morning. You know she can’t make it on her own.”
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t my fucking problem, but refrained. “Come get her, or I’m calling the cops.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice betrayed her question I would do that very thing.
“Now.” I hung up, telling myself if her sister didn’t show in twenty minutes, I would call the cops.
Her sister showed up in fifteen, and by that time, I’d packed up the essentials Jessie would need to get started in her new life without me.
“I’ll pack up the rest of her stuff and put it on the porch tomorrow,” I said while helping her sister tuck Jessie on the car’s backseat—still passed out cold, reeking of booze, and snoring.
Tight lipped, her sister stalked around the car, slammed the door, and tore out of my driveway without a damn word.
“Good fucking riddance,” I muttered, climbing the stairs to my porch. A nice wraparound faced west and a gorgeous sunset I stared at until my eyes watered. Fucking sucked I didn’t have anyone to share the view with.
Jaxon’s lips and his twinkling blue-green eyes flitted through my memory, and jaw clenched, I strode back inside.
Chapter Four
Jaxon
At two AM, I jerked awake, so damn horny my dick actually ached. Like, fucking hurt. First thing I would do on getting out, would be to bury myself between a willing woman’s thighs and get some goddamn relief.
I rolled to my back, stroking myself … and abruptly stopped as that feeling I’d had shiver over me the night before pulled my attention to the dark window.
Fuck the snoring roommate, and fuck my nudity and raging hard-on. I climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the room, intent on the window, my leaking dick leading the way.
Darkness coated the land in the distance, but a small exterior light on my left between floors shed a little light across the parking lot. Giving over to my instincts, I let my gaze wander where it would—and ended up staring hard at the chain link fence directly ahead of me. No one walked the sidewalk beyond, no one lingered close by, but I swore to God someone watched me from that exact spot.
Goosebumps rose across my skin, and I found my palm smearing down over more oozing pre-cum. I wanted to shoot off with a blast, but forced myself to go slowly, languid glides up and down every straining inch jutting up from my groin. The mushroom head swelled a bit, so goddamn sensitive beneath my grip that I thrust and grunted with every upward swipe.
A flicker of golden light in the exact spot I stared flashed bright enough I blinked, but it was gone the second I focused again. The voice inside me groaned—whimpered with need, and I leaned my forehead against the glass pane, hardly cooled by its chilled surface, my imagination flitting to the golden goddess of my dreams.
Heat swelled inside me to the point I wanted to combust.
Ours.
I didn’t know what the fuck the voice meant, but I fucking felt it. The same type of energy linking me to Doc Macaire slithered through the barrier in front of me like a cord winding its way around my soul as I continued the slow assault on my throbbing dick.
I imagined losing myself in her eyes, drowning in a sea of lust and love.
My balls erupted, and I bit down on my lower lip, head tipping back and eyes closing, as I shot into my fist, every spurt of spunk shuddering me, weakening my knees until I sagged against the window frame.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered, realizing I’d made more of a mess than usual.
I glanced out the window, sure I’d given someone a show. I just wished I knew who it was.
****
Primrose
The second night I’d stood cloaked outside Lockwood’s eastern wing, the need to be impulsive, something I’d never dealt with before, fought my better judgment. Regardless of my beta’s mental state, I had wanted to sneak into his room and allow him to have his way with me, claim me like my inner dragon longed for.
Luckily, my ancestors had kept informative records in the cavern’s library of my sheltered upbringing, so I understood all the possible sexual positions—and means of giving pain for pleasure—as most alpha blood born were known for. Unfortunately, I had no personal knowledge of such things, and my dragon was determined to undermine my will to wait for his freedom.
My fingers ached from grasping the chain-link fence to keep my human form in place. The energy linking me to the window strengthened and pulled taut as a shadow moved into view. Even with my dragon sight, I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but as he turned his head side to side as though seeking out where the energy attaching us came from, I took note of a strong nose and full lips, a square jaw I wanted to lick and nip with my teeth as he thrust into me.
Arousal, hot and wet, rose between my thighs, same as the previous night, and I bit my lips, my dragon’s needy growl rumbling in my chest as my beta locked his gaze on where I stood, cloaked by a dragonblood gift and darkness.
Want.
My human form wanted, too, and I swallowed as my dragon attempted to take over in a burst of golden light I quickly squashed. “Soon,” I promised with a whisper.
Through the tall, barred windows, I realized my beta’s hand moved over his body, the heat in the energy linking us rising. Did he touch himself? He propped his forehead on the window, shoulder hunched as though in pain, and again, I fought the need to shift, tear through the fence and walls to free my beta mate.
His form stiffened, and head tipped back, and the most luscious race of tingles swept through me, settling in my core.
Need.
Lower lip between my teeth, I released one hand from its hold and slid my fingertips down over the front of my leggings where I throbbed. I gasped as the feather touch grazed the hardened nub at the top of my slit, and I rubbed back up over it, my hips bucking on their own as though he thrust into me, burying against my womb.
Heat exploded like a blinding light through the energy between us, capturing my human form and my inner dragon in a euphoric race to the stars. I cried out, unable to keep my lips sealed as wave after wave rippled through my body, pulsing my pussy where his hard length ought to be.
I gasped for breath, my stare on the window as he slowly moved away from sight seconds later. Wetness coated my leggings, the sweet scent of my cum rising to fill my nose.
Please.
My dragon whimpered with the need for more, for our beta’s physical touch, but I tore myself away from the fence and focused on the motel’s room where I would plan my silent, cloaked assault on the mental hospital where one of my mates remained locked inside.
I would free him come morning—or die trying to.
Chapter Five
Jaxon
I couldn’t feel her, the invisible soul who had haunted me for two nights, the one my inner voice insisted I find and claim. She belonged to us, and I had no doubts of it being true. Once released, I hoped to find her waiting for me, my golden goddess of the night, the one my dick ached for even though I’d jerked off a few more times during the long nighttime hours as my roommate serenaded me with his snoring.
A free man, I stepped out into the fall morning, my stomach full of crappy cafeteria breakfast, a bag of my belongings in hand, and a grin on my face.
Doc Macaire’s lips didn’t move, but I swore a whisper—and not my own inner voice—groaned with displeasure.
Gaze narrowed, I stared at Doc as he rifled through the file left in front of him and jotted down a note or two on the inside cover. I wasn’t about to mention the voice I heard. God knew I’d never get out of Lockwood.
“Problem, Doc?” I asked, studying his furrowed brow across the top rim of his glasses.
He heaved a sigh, laid his pen down, and seemed to gather his thoughts, reining in the displeasure pinching his face.
Half of me actually wanted to stay longer, find out what it was about him that drew me in like a kid to a candy store with the most mouthwatering bins of free sour gummies.
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
He settled back in his chair, hands still on his desk as though using it to stabilize his inner thoughts. “What will you do?”
“Doc Holliday helped me land a job. I start Monday.” I swallowed again—and fought the need to shift beneath his stare. “He helped me find a small apartment across town, too.”
“Who is paying for it?”
None of his damn business, but he’d read my file and knew my parents made sure I got the best of care, the best of everything—except acceptance and love.
“I’ve got savings.”
“Do you have access to it?”
“Yes. It’s all mine. Parents’ names aren’t even on it.”
He nodded absently while glancing away and shifting his own ass on the chair at the same time I did, as though he, too, sported a hard-on in need of a man’s grip.
Yes.
“What?” I asked.
“Hmm?” He returned his piercing stare on me.
“Did you whisper something?”
The doctor’s brow furrowed again, but didn’t lessen the sexual tension—energy—zapping between us.
“Never mind.” I tossed out a crooked grin, the one that usually got me laid. “So yeah, I’m going to start my new life, the one my parents stole from me. I was a kid with a big imagination, you know?” My laughter sounded forced to my own ears. “I had a hard time keeping my head out of the clouds and feet on the ground.”
“Literally.”
I cleared my throat, my grin fading as I struggled to hold his gaze. “Yeah, but I was high. Being stupid.”
“And the times before?”
I shrugged, even though the itch to jump off every edge sometimes took me to the edge before my brain caught up. “What kid doesn’t want to be Superman?”
The silence stifled, the click of Doc Holliday’s clock on the wall like a gong with every passing second, heightening my need to jerk off, fuck, or leap off a goddamn cliff.
“You’re going to be all right out there on your own? No parents? No roommates?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
A few more seconds of breath-holding need, and he pulled a card from the top desk drawer. He scribbled something on it and handed it across the desk. “I live a few blocks from here. If you ever need anything—”
My fingers grazed his as I took the card, and I bit my lips to keep a gasp from escaping as fire raced up my arm, settling in the pit of my stomach. Talk about fucking aching balls. Drawn up and tight as fuck, same as when I’d first smelled the new doc.
His scruff twitched as though he clenched his jaw, and I studied him a brief moment, wondering if he’d felt the same thing I had. Doc Macaire cleared his throat first, but didn’t stand to see me out.
“See ya later, Doc,” I said, spinning the second I stood so he wouldn’t see the bulge in my pants—or the wet spot from the pre-cum leaking out of my dick. What was it with that shit lately?
Every step away from his desk, out the door, down the hallway, stretched thin the strange energy I’d felt until I got to the cafeteria for breakfast and it disappeared completely.
Chapter Three
Patrick
Jaxon rocked the bottom stones of my life’s foundation. The boy reminded me so much of myself—hearing voices as a kid, and according to his file, the fact he wouldn’t shut up about them landing him in psych ward after psych ward. At least I’d learned to keep my mouth shut after my second stint in a bleach-coated, white room.
I had ignored the voice always whispering in my brain, and through meditation, learned how to build a wall around whatever the darkness in my soul was until all evidence of it no longer existed.
Being fucked-up in the head as a kid made me curious about the brain, thus the career choice I’d made. Meeting Jaxon was the first time someone had tickled those memories enough that a whisper of unease over the stability of my walls licked at my spine. He also made me question my sanity in a whole other way—my sexuality and how I’d never once been attracted to another male.
He was so young that the word pedophile whispered in my head even though I knew he was of legal age. Just the thought of my finding him attractive turned my stomach. A patient. Eighteen years old.
But my hard-on refused to be talked down.
The scent of his soap, the earthy scent of the skin beneath, still lingered in the air, filling my nose and tightening my balls. Deeply bowed, his top lip created sinful images in my head of shoving my dick so far down his throat he’d gag. I wanted his greenish-blue eyes watering as he tried to take every inch.
“Fuck.” Grumbling a few more curses, I shook my head and shifted my weight from one hip to another, trying to get my mind off the kid.
I thought of my home life, the crazy girlfriend I’d been putting up with for too long, the one who just the night before told me she needed some space—time to figure us out. More like, she needed to figure her own self out. The woman had issues, but wouldn’t allow me to help her or even offer suggestions on what she could do for her mental health.
Temptation to toss her out, box up her shit, and change the locks had occupied my head for over two weeks, and the appearance, the nearness of Jaxon alone made up my mind. Perhaps my lack of luck in the love area troubled my past because I’d been focused on women. Perhaps it was time to bat for the other team for a while, see if that didn’t erase the loneliness inside that no woman had been able to ease.
I huffed a heavy breath through my nose and glanced around the new office, the one I’d agreed to help out in until Lockwood could find someone to permanently fill Doctor Holliday’s shoes. With a new private practice across town that I’d only begun to expand, God knew I had the time.
Teeth gritted against the unrelenting stiff dick in my slacks, I pulled the next file from atop the twenty or so high stack and covered the one I needed to keep my mind off.
****
I got home to find a Dear John letter on the kitchen table, and I wasn’t one bit upset. Relief lifted a weight off my shoulders, and I cracked open a beer, sucking it down to cool off the heat still racing through my blood.
I’d caught sight of Jaxon twice while in the hallways at Lockwood, and both times, he’d swiveled to face me, his sexy grin, the one I’m sure got plenty of women in his bed, making my dick throb—and not just for a good, hard fuck. Images of darker desires, whips and chains, marking and claiming every inch of his young skin, had me on edge.
While the BDSM lifestyle hadn’t ever piqued my interest before, I couldn’t stop thinking about tying him to the posts of my bed and flogging his backside red before burying myself balls-deep in his tight ass.
“Christ.” I clunked the empty beer bottle onto my kitchen table and grabbed my dick through my slacks. “Fuck it.” I freed my straining length, and the pre-cum welling on the head eased the downward slide of my hand. A few more curses rang in my head as I jacked off while standing in my kitchen, copious amounts of pre-cum leaking to ease my grip. Flashes of images raced through my head as though I’d already had Jaxon beneath me, vivid enough I could smell the muskiness of our fucking, his soap. Even his groans filled my ears.
Teeth clenched, I jerked hard and fast, my balls tightening and tingling. I wanted Jaxon with a fierceness I didn’t understand—as though he belonged to me. Mine to dominate, mine to pleasure. Mine to love.
Yes…
The darkness whispered past my defenses as my climax slammed into me, cum spurting all over my hand and the end of my dress shirt I held close to capture the ropes of sticky white I wanted to see dripping out of Jaxon’s ass.
My ears rang and heart raced as I realized the voice within me had actually spoken once more. Although I’d shot off what seemed a double batch of cum, my shoulders tensed and brow furrowed.
Jaxon, or the thought of him, rather, had cracked my defenses, and there was no fucking way I could allow—
“What the fuck, Pat?”
I clenched my eyes shut at the slurred voice I knew all too fucking well, the goddamn shortened version of my name I couldn’t stand.
“Jerking off in the goddamn kitchen over my letter?” Jessie snorted, pulling my focus to the kitchen door. She stood wavering on the threshold, eyes bloodshot and hazed. “You’re one sick fuck.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Damn straight!” She laughed and bumped her way toward the kitchen table, slamming her bony hip on one of the chairs. “Goddamnit,” she muttered, kicking the chair and almost falling over.
I turned my back and grabbed some paper towels to wipe up the mess I’d made. “Thought you weren’t coming back.”
“Yeah … didn’t plan on it, but I’ve got no other place to go, you know?”
My jaw clenched so damn hard an instant headache settled behind my eyes. “Call your sister.”
“I’m not callin’ that bitch.”
I tossed the cum-drenched paper towels in the waste can, put my dick away, and pulled off my sticky shirt to ball it up. By the time I turned around, Jessie had laid her head on the table beside the note she’d left, out cold.
“Fuck this.” I strode into the entryway and rifled through her handbag for her cell phone. Her sister answered the third time I tried calling.
“The fuck you want?” she growled.
“It’s Patrick. Your sister is passed out at the kitchen table and needs a place to crash.”
“She’s there, isn’t she? Put her in your goddamn bed.”
And I’d thought Jessie was a bitch. “She’s not welcome here.” I cut each word, trying like hell to keep from raising my voice as I pulled my house key off Jessie’s keychain.
“Well, I’m not coming to get her.”
“Then she’s sleeping out on the front porch.”
“Bastard.”
“She’s the one who wrote the letter saying she fucking hated me, didn’t want to stay one more goddamn night under the same roof as me. Need I go on?”
“Just let her sleep it off there. Chances are, she’ll be all over your dick come morning. You know she can’t make it on her own.”
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t my fucking problem, but refrained. “Come get her, or I’m calling the cops.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice betrayed her question I would do that very thing.
“Now.” I hung up, telling myself if her sister didn’t show in twenty minutes, I would call the cops.
Her sister showed up in fifteen, and by that time, I’d packed up the essentials Jessie would need to get started in her new life without me.
“I’ll pack up the rest of her stuff and put it on the porch tomorrow,” I said while helping her sister tuck Jessie on the car’s backseat—still passed out cold, reeking of booze, and snoring.
Tight lipped, her sister stalked around the car, slammed the door, and tore out of my driveway without a damn word.
“Good fucking riddance,” I muttered, climbing the stairs to my porch. A nice wraparound faced west and a gorgeous sunset I stared at until my eyes watered. Fucking sucked I didn’t have anyone to share the view with.
Jaxon’s lips and his twinkling blue-green eyes flitted through my memory, and jaw clenched, I strode back inside.
Chapter Four
Jaxon
At two AM, I jerked awake, so damn horny my dick actually ached. Like, fucking hurt. First thing I would do on getting out, would be to bury myself between a willing woman’s thighs and get some goddamn relief.
I rolled to my back, stroking myself … and abruptly stopped as that feeling I’d had shiver over me the night before pulled my attention to the dark window.
Fuck the snoring roommate, and fuck my nudity and raging hard-on. I climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the room, intent on the window, my leaking dick leading the way.
Darkness coated the land in the distance, but a small exterior light on my left between floors shed a little light across the parking lot. Giving over to my instincts, I let my gaze wander where it would—and ended up staring hard at the chain link fence directly ahead of me. No one walked the sidewalk beyond, no one lingered close by, but I swore to God someone watched me from that exact spot.
Goosebumps rose across my skin, and I found my palm smearing down over more oozing pre-cum. I wanted to shoot off with a blast, but forced myself to go slowly, languid glides up and down every straining inch jutting up from my groin. The mushroom head swelled a bit, so goddamn sensitive beneath my grip that I thrust and grunted with every upward swipe.
A flicker of golden light in the exact spot I stared flashed bright enough I blinked, but it was gone the second I focused again. The voice inside me groaned—whimpered with need, and I leaned my forehead against the glass pane, hardly cooled by its chilled surface, my imagination flitting to the golden goddess of my dreams.
Heat swelled inside me to the point I wanted to combust.
Ours.
I didn’t know what the fuck the voice meant, but I fucking felt it. The same type of energy linking me to Doc Macaire slithered through the barrier in front of me like a cord winding its way around my soul as I continued the slow assault on my throbbing dick.
I imagined losing myself in her eyes, drowning in a sea of lust and love.
My balls erupted, and I bit down on my lower lip, head tipping back and eyes closing, as I shot into my fist, every spurt of spunk shuddering me, weakening my knees until I sagged against the window frame.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered, realizing I’d made more of a mess than usual.
I glanced out the window, sure I’d given someone a show. I just wished I knew who it was.
****
Primrose
The second night I’d stood cloaked outside Lockwood’s eastern wing, the need to be impulsive, something I’d never dealt with before, fought my better judgment. Regardless of my beta’s mental state, I had wanted to sneak into his room and allow him to have his way with me, claim me like my inner dragon longed for.
Luckily, my ancestors had kept informative records in the cavern’s library of my sheltered upbringing, so I understood all the possible sexual positions—and means of giving pain for pleasure—as most alpha blood born were known for. Unfortunately, I had no personal knowledge of such things, and my dragon was determined to undermine my will to wait for his freedom.
My fingers ached from grasping the chain-link fence to keep my human form in place. The energy linking me to the window strengthened and pulled taut as a shadow moved into view. Even with my dragon sight, I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or eyes, but as he turned his head side to side as though seeking out where the energy attaching us came from, I took note of a strong nose and full lips, a square jaw I wanted to lick and nip with my teeth as he thrust into me.
Arousal, hot and wet, rose between my thighs, same as the previous night, and I bit my lips, my dragon’s needy growl rumbling in my chest as my beta locked his gaze on where I stood, cloaked by a dragonblood gift and darkness.
Want.
My human form wanted, too, and I swallowed as my dragon attempted to take over in a burst of golden light I quickly squashed. “Soon,” I promised with a whisper.
Through the tall, barred windows, I realized my beta’s hand moved over his body, the heat in the energy linking us rising. Did he touch himself? He propped his forehead on the window, shoulder hunched as though in pain, and again, I fought the need to shift, tear through the fence and walls to free my beta mate.
His form stiffened, and head tipped back, and the most luscious race of tingles swept through me, settling in my core.
Need.
Lower lip between my teeth, I released one hand from its hold and slid my fingertips down over the front of my leggings where I throbbed. I gasped as the feather touch grazed the hardened nub at the top of my slit, and I rubbed back up over it, my hips bucking on their own as though he thrust into me, burying against my womb.
Heat exploded like a blinding light through the energy between us, capturing my human form and my inner dragon in a euphoric race to the stars. I cried out, unable to keep my lips sealed as wave after wave rippled through my body, pulsing my pussy where his hard length ought to be.
I gasped for breath, my stare on the window as he slowly moved away from sight seconds later. Wetness coated my leggings, the sweet scent of my cum rising to fill my nose.
Please.
My dragon whimpered with the need for more, for our beta’s physical touch, but I tore myself away from the fence and focused on the motel’s room where I would plan my silent, cloaked assault on the mental hospital where one of my mates remained locked inside.
I would free him come morning—or die trying to.
Chapter Five
Jaxon
I couldn’t feel her, the invisible soul who had haunted me for two nights, the one my inner voice insisted I find and claim. She belonged to us, and I had no doubts of it being true. Once released, I hoped to find her waiting for me, my golden goddess of the night, the one my dick ached for even though I’d jerked off a few more times during the long nighttime hours as my roommate serenaded me with his snoring.
A free man, I stepped out into the fall morning, my stomach full of crappy cafeteria breakfast, a bag of my belongings in hand, and a grin on my face.
