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Chapter Fifty-Four

D av disengages his talons from Simcoe's ruined hide, and lifts his head so Simcoe's remaining eye can meet his. Simcoe's screams die down to a pained keening.

"Remember that a human you entrapped, and a dragon you betrayed, elected to let you live. Together ."

And then he walks away.

Limps, more like it.

I move toward him, feeling like I should be running in slow motion, but an authoritative voice cuts through the melodramatic romance of throwing myself at my victor.

"Give me the research, Dragon's Own," the queen says, holding out her hand. "I will give it all due consideration."

"That's all we ever asked, Your Majesty," I manage to squeeze out, frozen on the steps. I grope back at the table for the briefcase. The guard takes pity and pushes it into my hand.

Disheveled and still panting from all the excitement, I cross the stone pit. Sidestepping the blood, I hand the ruler of the British Empire the key to saving the world.

She stands slowly, and with no further word, departs. The members of the royal family follow in her wake.

I wait until the royal box is empty, for the full retreat of the crown, before I lunge at my dragon.

He meets me halfway. I throw my arms around his neck, and press my face against the side of his, and hide a relieved sob against his scales.

I'm pretty sure every person in the slowly-emptying room heard it anyway.

Dav and I are ignored while more of the paramedics descend on Simcoe with a stretcher. He's whisked out of the chamber faster than I thought it could happen—though I guess they'd have practice with this kind of thing.

On the far side of the ring, Laura Secord stands alone in the shadows. No dragon or Favorite is crowding close to see if she's okay. She is by herself in what I can only guess is her misery.

"Laura," I say softly into Dav's ruined ear. Laura Secord, Dav's only human friend besides me, is going to grow old and die. Quickly.

Dav twists his neck around, Simcoe's blood still painting the side of his maw. She offers him a subservient curtsy that looks so abjectly slavish that my blood boils.

"No," I tell him. "You can't take her like a prize. Dav, you can't—"

"She'll have no protection if I don't claim her for my hoard," Dav rumbles back, nosing at my neck, at what I am sure is already a necklace of developing bruises.

"I need to—" Dav starts, but stops, making a frustrated noise.

His tail is wrapped around my waist now, and he's sucking in lungfuls of my scent, bloody nose in my hair, wuffling under my arm. "Colin, you smell so—"

"I'll ensure she's secure," the guard says. "The withdrawing chambers are at your disposal, my Lord."

They point at a door to the side of the royal box, and then have the cheek to wink .

Getting duel-horny must be normal, because the 'withdrawing chamber' is built for fucking and nothing else.

There's a big ass bed, a sofa, a bathroom, and, wow, a basket of lube and condoms. While Simcoe is fighting for his life and the queen is reading our research, Dav and I are totally expected to be getting it on.

Strangely, knowing that every peer of the realm is entirely aware of the fact that I am about to have Dav's dick in me does not make me want to have his dick in me any less.

Shaky and parched, I let go of Dav's wing (the only part of him I could hold onto as we walked here) and make my way to a minifridge against the far wall. I drain a bottle of water all in one go. My skin feels too tight for my body, my nerves electrified. I shimmy out of my ruined jacket.

"Water?" I ask, turning back to Dav.

I expect him to be standing in the middle of the room, humanshape and covered in blood and shyly admitting that he feels disgusting and wants to freshen up. Alternately, I expect him to straight-up tackle me to the bed and start ripping at my clothes.

Either is fine.

I don't get either, though.

Dav is still in dragonshape. He's curled up on the floor, wings arched around himself like a tent. Sunflower eyes peer at me from the gap between them.

"Uh." I crouch in front of him. When he doesn't move, I tap the leathery membrane of his wing. "Hey, you okay in there?"

Dav rumbles but doesn't reply.

"Okay, so… have I done something wrong, then?" I ask.

"No!" Dav says, wings snapping back. He presses the side of his head to mine, knocking me on my ass.

At least the carpet is plush.

"Then what is it?" I pet up the bridge of his nose, pausing short of touching his torn ear. It's stopped bleeding, but if we're not gonna fuck, then I want to get some disinfectant on it.

Dav huffs and lays his head in my lap, eyes squeezed closed. "You're not disgusted?"

"The blood is kind of a turn off, I'm not gonna lie. I'd be happy to wait until you've showered. But humping has been more-or-less promised and I—you don't mean the blood."

The tip of his tail lashes back and forth nervously.

"Dav. Babe. Mine Own. Fy Nhrysor ." That last one gets him to open his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, I know how to use Google Translate.

" I keep petting his face, brushing off the flaking blood, straightening crooked scales, gently working loose the ones that have been ripped out.

Soothing. Calm. "What's going on in that big lizard brain of yours, huh? "

"I'm mortified." Dav licks his lips, then grimaces when he catches some of the gore from the corner of his mouth. "You must find me so revolting. To be led so easily to such violence ."

"I knew you were a soldier," I remind him.

"Knowing and watching me half-kill a man are two entirely different things."

"And you're afraid that I'm…?" I leave space for him to answer.

"Frightened. I'm so much stronger than you, and I… I know you told me you never wanted me to hold you down, that you feared what I could do if I lose my head, and I was so enraged Colin, I lost myself to the fight so completely—"

"Whoa, wait up," I interrupt, tugging on his little armored ruff. I'm not strong enough to actually move him, not if he doesn't want to be moved, but he raises his head obligingly to let me meet his eyes. "First, you're being a self-pitying dumbass."

"Colin!"

"Well, you are. Secondly," I take one of his paws and press it into my lap. "I wouldn't have that for you if I was scared."

Dav sticks his nose in my crotch to get a good sniff.

Weirdo.

" After all of this, do you still not get that this is me choosing you, Dav?" I ask. "Your teeth are the size of a butcher knife and I am letting you near my junk. If this isn't trust, then—"

He grunts, swings his head away, smoke curling from one corner of his mouth.

"Fuck off," I say. "Don't pull that. Look at me." He does. " Listen , you big red idiot. I am choosing to be here. I love you."

"Even still?"

"Even still." I huff out a laugh. "I never stopped, even when you scared the shit out of me with stuff that I didn't understand, even when your cryptic bullshit frustrates me. Big old bleeding heart, pinned to my sleeve, staining my shirt; that's me. And I love you."

He licks my face once, gentle and sweet.

"Turn back," I say, giving his head a little shake. "Come on, I wanna kiss you."

He snorts.

"Fine." I roll my eyes and kiss his snout. Within seconds it's a human mouth, wet and opening under mine.

"Hi," I say, pulling away.

"Colin," he crackles out, engulfing me in a protective hug.

"Hey," I whisper. "How about we get this blood off, eh?"

"Yes, please," Dav says.

I hoist him to his feet shakily, and get him folded into the shower cubicle.

Dav is exhausted, in too much pain to even raise his hands to wash his hair, so I strip down and squish in to give him a slow, gentle scrub.

I don’t mean for it to be sensual, not when he’s so wrecked.

But there is something undeniably sexy about taking care of your conquering hero.

Dragons heal quickly, so by the time I’m patting him dry, his ear looks whole, if crossed with an angry red line.

The punctures in his hip and torso are scabbing over, but are ringed with dark black bruising.

The gash under his arm is still nasty, but no longer oozing.

While he towels his hair dry, I press myself to his back to kiss the worst of it.

"Oof, hello," he laughs. "Careful back there, it feels like you're about to stab me."

The image knocks the breath out of me.

"Can I?" I pant, clutching at his hips. "We've never… can we?"

He meets my eyes in the foggy reflection of the mirror above the sink. I knead the excellent flesh of his ass, and give him my best puppy-dog look.

He groans appreciatively. He folds the towel, rests it on the edge of the sink, and then sinks forward to prop himself up on his elbows.

"Fuck, yes ." I grab the lube I'd optimistically brought into the bathroom. "Thank you."

"I didn't think you'd want to do it this way," Dav pants as I press in, slowly, with one slick finger.

"I didn't think you'd want to." I add a few bite-marks of my own to his back. "Control freak."

Dav reaches over his shoulder, sinks his hand into my hair, and pulls, forcing me up onto my tiptoes for a kiss. "Who says I'm not in control?" he smears against my mouth, and I can feel him smirking, the jerk.

"Oh, yeah?" I ask, lining myself up. "Let's see if you can stay in control now ."

"Colin, don't be ridiculous, I—" His protest cuts off as I slide in, and he arches back, groaning.

Nice.

"Thank you," Dav pants, as we find our rhythm. "For letting me stay."

"It's not about… hnnng… it's not about letting you , come on, it's… it's part of… holy, fuck , Dav I… ngk! Rule four! Relationships are work, right?"

"Rule six," he groans back. "Don't give up on soulmates."

"Oh, are we playing a game now?" I ask, straining against him, loving the way he’s surrounding me, holding me safe. "Rule one?"

Dav huffs a laugh. "I think we're being pretty explicit right now, Mine Own."

"Fair."

"Rule seven," Dav cranes around and whispers against my mouth. I wait for him to go on, or to kiss me, or something. "Rule seven, Colin," he prompts, lips moving against mine.

"I am—" I start, but something hot, a surge of something big and wonderful and terrifying in only the best way, cuts my words off.

I dig my fingernails into Dav's hips, press my tongue against his.

Drag in a breath through my nose and smell sweat, and lube, and a ridiculously delicious whiff of black pepper and basil from the shampoo.

"You are…?" Dav presses, pulling away, teasing.

"I am…"

Shit.

I can't do it.

I wrap my arms around his waist, hide my face between his shoulder-blades. He pets over my arms. "Go on."

"Dav," I moan. I try to thrust, something , but Dav’s planted himself. Immoveable. Using all that draconic strength to thwart me, and that’s just not fair , the bossy little—

"Keep going, sweetheart," he says, low and rich with emotion. The same emotion that has a strangle-hold on my lungs, my heart, my mind. "Say it."

"I am…" I can't do it. I have to do it. The toppy bastard isn't going to let me come otherwise. " Worthy. "

"You are, darling." He resumes pushing back against me. It's sweaty, and slippery, and oh so fucking good. "My good boy, my handsome Colin. Mine Own."

"Dav," I complain, feeling my ears burn.

"Say it again."

"I'm worthy," I pout, arching and squirming… so close, so fucking close…

"Worthy of…?"

" Love , you big stupid lizard," I groan. "I'm worthy of love."

"You're worthy of love. You're worthy of everything. I would do anything for you."

"Even fight a duel, and destroy the very architecture of your society?" I tease.

As I knew he would, Dav laughs. "Yes, Mine Own. Even that."

He twists around for another kiss, but I get my fingers up between our lips. His nose scrunches in confusion, adorable and so not-polished , and I love it.

"You too. Say it."

"I am also worthy of love," Dav parrots diligently, sending a shiver of delight up my spine, and a hot surge of lust down it.

"Damn straight you are." I move my hand so Dav can have his kiss. I love that split tongue. I reach around him to clean the fog off the mirror. He raises his head so we can both watch the way the flush rises on his chest. God, those big, beautiful honeyed eyes. "Mine Own."

"You know," he pants, "Only dragons are supposed to say that."

"Give me a better word, then," I demand, but he's suddenly too overcome to answer.

Dav makes his I'm close sound and shudders.

"Almost, sweetheart, almost there," I promise him, gripping hips, hard, hard, grasping and pressing marks in as I fuck into him slow and sweet. "You first."

"Oh, Colin, Mine Own, you feel so… so…" His words dry up, focused and intense, knuckles white where he grips the sink.

I can't stop looking at his face reflected in the mirror. A lock of his hair has fallen down into his forehead, his eyebrows knitted together in effort. When he realizes I'm watching him, his face relaxes, and he smiles.

"Look at yourself," I say, gently. His prick's bobbing, red and leaking. He swallows hard and reaches for it. "No. Not yet. Just look. You're beautiful."

I go quicker, harder, and Dav braces himself against the wall beside the mirror, rutting back against me. It's almost too much to see him like this, stretched out and on display, just for me.

"Colin, I'm—!" Then another " Colin !" punches out of him, like it’s the last word he’ll ever get to say.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," I tell him, and Dav curls over the sink and comes hard.

God, that's hot.

And then, the bastard, he squeezes .

"Wait, uh, I'm supposed to be… ah! Augh, Dav !"

When I've come down from my own orgasm, I smack his arse. "Bossy jerk."

" Your jerk," he agrees.

"Absolutely. All mine. My dragon. My gorgeous, beautiful, badass dragon. Mine Own."

"You really can't say that, darling."

"What am I supposed to call you then? This is getting stupid."

"There's really no term," Dav says. "Not one that anyone would find polite, any more."

"Ah ha ! It is ' master', isn't it?"

Dav's face scrunches up.

"Forget it," I tell him. "Not happening."

"No, I agree," Dav says. He turns in my arms. We share another lingering kiss.

"Hey, you know what," I say softly, heart beating a mile a minute. "I just figured out the perfect thing to call you."

"And what's that?"

Feeling absolutely ridiculous, completely buck-naked, covered in sex, and without a ring, I get down on one knee. "How does 'husband' sound?"

Dav smiles like a sunrise. " Coc y gath ."