Rylin's Fire Page 9

  Continuing his downward path, Ry didn’t stop until he reached the apex of Dara’s thighs. The scent of her desire for him was undeniable. This was the true treasure. The heart of her. He smirked. She’d accused him of having a hoard earlier. Dara was the finest treasure he’d ever add to it.

  Ry released a little of the hold he maintained on his essence, allowing the man to recede and the raptor to come forward. A heady rush poured into him. “Mine.”

  He buried his tongue in the moist, rich prize splayed in front of him. Dara cried out, giving Ry pause. His gaze peered over her undulating torso. Reassured that the sounds she made were ones of rapture, he returned to her lush center.

  She whimpered, whined, and pulled on his hair with painful intensity. Ry wanted to laugh. His Dracol wanted to roar in triumph.

  His. She belonged to him.

  “I’m coming!”

  He didn’t need the warning. The sweet taste of her pleasure spilled over his tongue in abundance and Ry licked every drop, sucking hard on her button nub. Dara screamed and her heels pushed back as she tried to escape his attention.

  Ry stayed on her until her body collapsed in a shivering heap with only his hands keeping her propped along the wall. Satisfied, that she’d finished her release, Ry stood up.

  “Ry. Rylin,” she gasped, tossing her head from side to side.

  He pinned her arms above her head. “Now, it’s my turn.”

  His hips jutted forward as he entered the warm haven between her thighs. She gave a muted cry and slid her thighs high up on his hips. Ry leaned back and glanced down to watch, loving the sight of her squeezing him. Her body clung each time he pulled out to the tip.

  He lowered his head to slide his tongue over her reddened nipples. Dara’s swollen tissues pulsed about his length and she arched against him as he sucked one tiny bud hard. He wanted to sip at their sweetness as if they were small berries.

  Her hips twisted against him and Rylin choked back a moan of pleasure. He gripped her wrists tighter to hold her wildly gyrating body still. “So wet. Deep. Take all of me, Dara.”

  “Come now, Rylin. Come inside me.”

  There was no resisting her allure. Ry drove forward, sinking into her tight core. Her muscles rippled over his shaft as he pistoned faster, burying his face in her hair where he groaned out his release. Dara locked her fingers with his and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me, my sweet lira to be.”

  Their gazes connected and Ry watched as she choked out a broken whisper and came again. Her eyes drifted closed on a soft sigh seconds before he pulled out. Ry carried her limp body to his bed and lay beside her. With his arm about her waist, Ry absorbed every breath Dara took. She slept deeply after the two orgasms he’d given her. He smiled and wrapped himself tighter about her body in the tangled sheets.

  Observing her climaxes rocked him as well. The slight catch in her breath, the surprise in her gaze, and then the fiery red blush spreading across her throat as she gasped out her pleasure. Never had a female shared herself so openly with him.

  The pounding knock at his door had Ry out of the bed and crouched in front of Dara before he thought. He straightened and checked on Dara, who slept on undisturbed. He couldn’t control his arrogant pride at her exhaustion.

  When he opened the door Mikal and Avi stood on the other side. Their dark looks spoke volumes. “Not here.”

  They nodded and stepped back. Ry grabbed his pants, closed the door on Dara, and followed them to his outer office. He dressed quickly. “Tell me.”

  “Another attack. This time against the Green,” Mikal said.

  Avi grunted. “King Varyk will be on a war path.”

  That was putting it mildly. Ry muttered a curse under his breath. “Everything the same?”

  Mikal flashed a grim smile. “She got away. Fought back and ran.”

  Ry’s brows shot up. “Who?”

  “Varyk’s sister.” Avi’s response stunned Ry.

  “We need to stop him.” How did the rogue bypass the search of four talented Kings? “I want to know everything about the attack.”

  “Milana was out for a walk. Her mate appeases her need to hunt by herself. The killer came from behind and was on her before she knew it.”

  Ry prayed for a miracle. “What did she see?”

  “Nothing.” Mikal face conveyed his own disappointment. “She fought, raking his mid-section, and reached for her mate. Santos arrived shortly after but found no signs of the attacker. He didn’t pursue because Milana was visibly shaken.”

  Rage gathered at the female’s narrow escape. “No lira is to be left alone. Tell the others.”

  Avi bowed. “Of course, my King.”

  ***

  Dara drifted in a haze, but woke to gentle lips kissing her on the side of her neck. The weight of a warm arm rested across her hips, and behind her a very hard object nestled against her butt. In a flash, the events of the night before flooded her mind and she relaxed.

  “Rylin?” The kisses ended as she was rolled onto her back.

  “I need you.” Gold eyes filled with lust stared down at her.

  His weight shifted until he came over her, chest to chest, forearms braced at the side of her head. Two things came to Dara’s attention with the move. The first—he was very naked, and second the hard object prodding her was an extremely aroused man.

  “Are you alright?” She braced her hands against his broad chest. There was something different about him.

  Violence added a rippling current to his lovemaking.

  “Someone attacked Varyk’s sister, but she escaped.”

  Sympathy poured through Dara. “I’m sorry. Is she alright?”

  An abrupt nod was his response as well the rough glide of his hard body settling between her thighs. Dara brushed back the dark wave of hair covering his brow. His skin burned hot to the touch, his gold eyes holding her in place with the intensity of his stare. Heat seared along her skin wherever they touched.

  “She is fine. Milana managed to escape.”

  Every word came out in a harsh growl. He bared his sharp teeth and rotated his hips. The firm pressure of his hot length stroked the growing dampness along her center.

  “I-I‘m glad she’s alright. Did she see anything?” Dara couldn’t completely mask the arousal in her voice.

  Rylin rasped his jaw along the side of her face and emitted a low purr. “She saw nothing. It was dark and he approached from behind.” He licked the pulse beating in her throat. “Milana is Varyk’s twin but many don’t know that unlike other female Dracol she can partially shift her limbs with claws and scales. She raked the attacker’s middle.”

  Dara tried to focus on his words but his hands were now threading through her hair and tilting her face up. Warm lips pressed to the spot at the base of her neck. She shivered, her legs shifted as she attempted to get closer to the probing thickness at the apex of her thighs.

  “G-g-good.” Dara lost the train of her thoughts. Rylin adjusted his weight and the tip of his hardness teased with its back and forth glide. She sucked in a breath. “Rylin.”

  He shook his head, the dark strands falling over his brow again. “We will talk of it later. For now, accept me.”

  Dara had no time to agree or disagree. With a short thrust, he pierced her aching core, the slick wetness almost embarrassing Dara with the clear evidence of her own greed and desire.

  Rylin pulled out and caught her chin with one hand. “More?”

  “Yes. Oh, please yes.” Her breath escaped in a rush, the words tumbling over one another.

  He plunged back into her, face tight and hips moving against her. Dara’s hoarse scream ripped free. His sack rasped against her folds as he went deep. Her inner walls convulsed and began to burn.

  Rylin grunted from above, features reflecting the strain. A sense of power filled Dara to see the visible evidence of his reaction to their lovemaking. Rocking with him, Dara clenched her lower muscles and conce
ntrated on matching his hectic pace. His tortured groan was rewarding and to her surprise, Dara laughed.

  Her hand curled around his nape. “Can you keep up?”

  Rylin’s head snapped up and his mouth fell open.

  “Well?” she taunted.

  The leash on his control snapped as he kissed the thumping pulse at her throat. Rylin sucked at the tender skin hard enough to bruise. The strength of his desire for her bordered on violence. He moved lower, gaze on his target. His mouth closed over a nipple, the wet heat zinging up her spine. Dara arched into his touch.

  “Rylin.” His name dragged from her.

  Agony bathed his features. The fast strokes and the harder smack of his thighs against her sent Dara careening into a blinding orgasm. Sparks glared behind her closed eyelids before she collapsed, every breath ripped from her.

  Rylin jerked above her as he bathed her insides with the hot jet of his seed. “I’m The King of the Black Dracol. I will always keep up with you.”

  Chapter 16

  Dara woke abruptly thanks to the loud, raised voices. She recognized one as Rylin and after a moment of hesitation leaped from the bed to tug on her dress from the night before. Grimacing at the wrinkled material and her lack of underwear, Dara followed the sounds down the hall. The muscles in her lower region twinged from the vigorous workout during the night.

  She wasn’t sure how late in the morning it was, but bright sunlight blared through the entire suite. Tiptoeing pass each room, including the one filled with treasure, signaled her attempt at stealth. Dara might as well have given up the effort.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold of what resembled a living area, Rylin and the tall blond from before spun at her approach. Mikal, she remembered. Both men wore dark clothing that molded to their body. Fitted pants and tight sleeveless shirts displayed arms that looked as if they could squeeze a grown man in half. Or an Earth woman with little sense.

  “Dara.” Heat flashed through Rylin’s gaze as their eyes connected.

  Refusing to succumb to the embarrassment of her disheveled state, Dara walked calmly to his side beneath the watchful stare of Mikal. Ry’s arm encircled her shoulders, immediately alleviating some of her discomfort.

  Mikal cleared his throat and shifted his stance, releasing Dara from the penetrating scope of those gold eyes. “We made the official announcement today. Females are angry and their mates justifiably worried. The attack on Varyk’s sister only proves the rogue is not afraid to go after anyone. Now, the King of the Green is up in arms swearing it’s someone from the Black. We’ve lost the fewest number of liras, increasing the suspicion placed on us.”

  Rylin’s chest twitched behind Dara, his frame going rigid. “We need to find him and put a stop to these attacks.”

  The dark tone of Rylin’s voice hinted at his displeasure. Mikal nodded. “I’ll continue my investigation and work with the other seconds for any information that could reveal the identity.”

  “Good.” Rylin waited until Mikal left and turned Dara in his arms. The kiss he placed on her lips brought back the steamy memories from their night together. She’d lost count of how many times he’d reached for her, taking her body. Sometimes with savage intensity, and others with gentleness.

  “I want your things moved here today. I’ll be able to keep an eye on you better while I track the killer.”

  It was on the tip of Dara’s tongue to protest. Moving in with him constituted a big step, but then she reflected on their last conversation when he sought to protect her by pushing her away. Asking her to move in revealed his need for assurance of her safety.

  Rylin nudged her chin with his knuckles. His eyes darkened to a deep amber, only hints of the gold wisping along the outer iris. “I need this.”

  Dara sucked in a breath. Trust. One word with a meaning and implication a mile long. But somehow Dara knew this moment would prove to be pivotal. Yes, she’d almost lost faith when he attempted to chase her away, but the hunger he’d exhibited during the night, the desperation in each stroke as he took her to pleasure time and time again, said more than words.

  “I trust you, Rylin.” Dara turned to fully face him, her arms drawing up and about his neck.

  He growled, the sound creating dips in her belly. Then he wrapped his hands about her hips and tugged her close. “Good.”

  She expected him to say more or to carry her into the bedroom, though she wasn’t sure how much more gymnastics she could handle. Instead, he stepped back after a brief squeeze to her waist and the corner of his mouth curled up. “I’ll send for your things. In the meantime, make free use of my suite. Bathe. Someone will come for you.”

  Dara arched a brow and placed her hands on her hips. “And where will you be?”

  A mask slipped over his features and any signs of humor vanished. “Hunting a killer.”

  ***

  Ry angled his wings to turn toward the clearing and slowed his descent. Below he made out the group waiting for his arrival at the sect boundaries where his land ended. Though he knew of his visitors, territorial instinct had flames licking free of his mouth. Another flap of his leathery, scaled wings brought him closer. The mantle and his essence merged, filling Ry with a burst of power to deal with the confrontation to come.

  He let out a warning screech, signaling his approach, and shifted between one breath and the next, landing on two feet instead of dragon claws. The four men gathered all glared in his direction, the deep rumbles of their displeasure rousing his Dracol.

  Ry tamped down his essence and greeted them in a neutral tone. Mikal and Layne landed on softly padded feet and stood to one side of him. Neither bothered to disguise the aggressive, guttural sounds rolling from their throats.

  Pulling on the non-stop flow of energy from the mantle, Ry clothed all of them in a simple loincloth of black silk with a thought. “I’m here, Varyk.”

  The King of the Green took a step toward him and Mikal blocked Ry’s view with a simple shift in front of him. Layne tensed, his hands fisting at his sides.

  Ry exhaled softly, knowing this was the response his men would take based on the threatening message Varyk sent. It was understandable that he’d be in a rage over the attack on his twin. All of the sects were in arms over the senseless killings. Milana’s mate refused to let her out of his sight until they captured whoever did this.

  “Stand clear,” Ry muttered in an undertone that didn’t travel further than his men.

  Mikal hesitated for a split second before clearing the way. Layne didn’t relax his stance but his snarls ceased. Varyk’s lips twisted as he bypassed Ry’s guards. The two of them walked further away, leaving behind the four Green Varyk had flown with.

  “You cannot tell me these attacks are random. I’ve been hit the hardest. My liras deliberately targeted,” Varyk snapped as soon as they were out of hearing of the others.

  “You know I have no quarrel with you, Varyk. Why would I send a Black to do this?”

  Varyk’s eyes narrowed and a steady stream of smoke leaked from both nostrils. “My land borders yours. Sarkin often challenged me by crossing the set boundaries.”

  “I’m not Sarkin.”

  And that was the crux of the animosity Varyk constantly exhibited toward the Black. It didn’t matter that Ry had ruled with stern order and discipline over the last decade. Simple border battles rarely occurred any more once Ry began punishing the offenders.

  King Sarkin may have turned a blind eye to those things, considering them petty squabbles, but Ry had dealt with each of his men in a manner they couldn’t miss. He wouldn’t countenance pointless attacks and false shows of bravados by letting his Dracol fight other sects.

  “Why should I believe you?” Varyk’s dismissive question had Ry’s claws popping free.

  The Green King smirked at the sign of Ry’s loss of control.

  “You don’t have to believe me, Varyk.” Ry curled his fingers and his claws retracted into the finger slits. “But stay out of my way.”
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  Ry leaned forward and lowered his voice further. The mantle added potency to his words as he allowed his essence to rise. With the full throttle of the Dracol echoing in his voice, Ry declared, “If I find that you impede the search for the one responsible for these killings because you are blinded by past wrongs—I. Will. Destroy. You.”

  Varyk’s gaze flickered. His second lids dropped, blending the man and his Dracol. “You would threaten me? In the midst of a peace talk?”

  “Peace talk?” Ry snorted, unable to keep his Dracol from his tone. The deep hiss and rasp stirred his need to fight, to battle, as was his nature when another trespassed against him. “You sent a demand to meet.”

  Any other time, Ry would have ignored the missive, but with all of the upheaval and murders, he couldn’t afford to appear unconcerned.

  Varyk’s shoulders dropped and he shoved a hand through the loose green hair flowing about his shoulders. “Milana jumps at shadows in our home. Our home, where she should feel safe!”

  Sympathy displaced some of Ry’s anger. One glance at Varyk’s face revealed the pain in his confession. It was no secret the rare twins born of one shell loved one another deeply.

  “You have my vow. I did not order an attack on liras. Not Milana nor the others. I have no gripe with the Green. If one of mine is behind the slaughters, I will mete out appropriate justice. Do you give me the same?” Ry held Varyk’s stare until the man inhaled and backed up.

  “Your vow is meaningless to me, Black Dracol. Stay far from Green territory whilst you solve this.” Varyk ported across the short space, placing them chest to chest. Venom dripped from his words. “You best find him before I do.”

  Varyk turned on his heel, raising his left arm at his men. Between one step and the next, Varyk took on his Dracol form. The huge green raptor wasted no time launching into the air. Seconds later, three Green followed suit.

  Ry waited until he could no longer see their wings in the distance with his raptor vision. Mikal and Layne approached.

  The ends of Layne’s red hair flew across his face. He caught the strands in his fist and held them back. “Did King Varyk have any news to report?”