Page 64 of The Consolation Prize

“That was a very naughty dragon to scream another knight’s name as I give you a tongue lashing,” he growled in her ear. “It seems I need to remind you who you’re dealing with.” Luckily Una was dead to all shame by this point, a heaving, roiling mess as he inserted his hips between her thighs and slid his hard cock between her wet cleft in a hot, teasing slide that made her sated body perk up again.

“Drenched,” he breathed. “Well, well, maybe you will swallow me whole yet, my dragoness.” He surged forward and Una moaned deep in her throat as his thick inches penetrated her slowly, making her ache for him. She wound her arms about his shoulders.

“More,” she groaned. “Please.”

He gave a breathless laugh. “Shh, my insatiable dragon, let me make this good for you.”

Una sank her nails into his back. “Dragons don’t like it slow,” she panted. “They like it fast.”

“Who’s conquering who here?” he demanded raspily, as he eased into her. Una wrapped her legs around his back, canting her hips, encouraging his penetration in any way she could. She moaned again, loudly, letting him know how needy she felt.

“Fuck, Una,” he grunted, as he slid the last few inches until he was buried deep. His breathing was ragged, and she watched as he closed his eyes a moment. She wasn’t sure if he was fighting for control or just savoring the moment. Her own eyes fluttered shut as she felt him so deep inside her, where she wanted him most. “Open your eyes,” he grated out, and Una obeyed. He was gazing down at her so intently, she felt scorched.

“So beautiful,” he ground out, in what Una dimly realized must be part of their bed play, but she could not help how it made her chest throb almost as much as where they were joined. Her eyes swam, it was nice he’d decided her wyvern was beautiful, she thought. He was kind. And breathtaking. And utterly—her thoughts broke off as his body flexed hard against her. Oh!

Her hips rose to meet his thrusts as he quickly fell into a punishing rhythm, that had her struggling to match his pace. She kept falling out of time, only for him seize her hips and jolt her back against him, hard until she matched him thrust for thrust. The sensations rising in her soon had her spiraling out of control. He wasn’t teasing or coaxing cooperation from her body this time. He was demanding it. There was no more dragon and knight talk either as he grunted loudly in time with each of his pounding thrusts. Una lost herself completely to sensation, the sounds, the pleasure.

She wouldn’t even know how to describe the strange keening noise she was making. She ought to release her grip of his rippling shoulders and cover her mouth, she thought, her senses reeling. But if she did that—if she did that, he might stop. And if he stopped then she would surely die of disappointment. It wasn’t as though he was trying to muffle her cries, she consoled herself. Between the two of them, they were creating quite a racket.

Then she gave up on conscious thought as her moans turned hoarse and her movements became frantic and the tension building and building inside her suddenly burst in a blaze like a ball of flame, that tore through her like wildfire utterly consuming her. She lay stunned and shaking as Armand shattered in almost the same instant. He gave a guttural cry, before slumping over her with a low, spent groan and thus they remained for several long moments, intertwined and panting.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed at last, kissing her brow. “That was … incredible.” He gave a small chuckle. “Your dragon was certainly … formidable.” Una tightened her arms around him, which had fallen slack. She didn’t feel up to words right now. “We’ll call that an even draw,” he mused. “Though in truth I think you defeated me utterly.”

Then he seemed to notice her silence and drew back, eyeing her almost warily. “Una?” She buried her face in his neck, unable to face his teasing. “Feeling shy?” he asked sounding amused. She shook her head but would not look at him all the same. He blew out a breath. “Very well, I’ll let you off the hook this once. But only because you were an absolute revelation.” He drew a lazy pattern against the skin of her back with his fingertip. “I never thought dragon-slaying would be so—” He broke off at the sound of some noise outside. “What the fuck?” It was a gentle knock on the door. “Go away!” Armand bawled.

Una winced. “Armand,” she murmured reproachfully. “They must be waiting on us to serve supper.”

“Supper?” He glanced at the window. “Oh yes,” he said frowning, clearly displeased at the thought of venturing below stairs.

“I could ask them to serve ours to us here,” she suggested. “At the small table in the corner?”

His expression cleared. “That’s a damned good notion,” he said with approval.

“And also, to bring us a bath,” she suggested, coloring slightly.

He looked thoughtful. “How large is the tub?”

*

They ate their supper intimately secluded in the privacy of their room. Armand’s bare feet brushed her own under the small table and after the first few passes, she realized it was by design rather than mere accident. By the time they were tucking into the roasted meats, her own feet were resting atop of his in an act of familiarity that quite took her breath away.

Feeling his eyes upon her almost stole her appetite, and he had to keep urging her to eat. “You’ll need your strength,” he teased, wagging his eyebrows at her, and Una felt her face grow hot. She had a terrible suspicion he was going to tease her about their dragon play, and she felt entirely lily-livered about the subject. It was one thing to be bold in the throes of passion, but quite another to have anything you might have said repeated back to you in the cold light of day.

His glinting eyes seemed to say he could guess her thoughts, for though she could see a jest tremble on his lips a time or two, he did not voice whatever it was, though his eyes brimmed over with wicked laughter. He ate voraciously, his eyes never wavering far from her face, and though she was dressed in a loose brocade robe over her shift and should have been quite comfortable, she felt as breathless as if she had been tightly laced.

When the bath arrived, Armand complained it was a good deal too small, though it looked to be of usual proportions to Una. To her surprise, he dismissed Rose and bade her take the hiding Abelard with her, for the dog must be wanting his supper. Una was relieved to see Abelard lick Rose’s nose in a display of spontaneous affection that made the girl laugh delightfully, and she carried him off in her arms, singing under her breath.

Then Armand locked the door and set about undressing and bathing her as though it were some task for him to savor. He dragged the sponge over her neck and shoulders, then peppered kisses in its wake. He lathered the soap flakes in his hands and rubbed them over her body with his fingers and palms. It was more like an act of worship than a cleaning exercise and Una was both heated and bewildered by the time she emerged from the water and was wrapped in a drying cloth.

As he quickly stripped and climbed into the tub after her, she crouched before the fire and dried her hair. “Should I help bathe you?” she thought to ask belatedly, as she heard him splashing the water about.

“Next time,” he answered briefly. “We’ll commission a larger tub.”

Una glanced curiously over her shoulder. “I suppose you do make that one look a little small,” she admitted. “But only because you are rather large for a man.”

He grinned back at her. “I want one we can share.”

“Share?” she repeated blankly. “At the same time?”