When he was gone, Aaron told me, “My wife is a powerful Queen in Faerie, and she has the favor of two even more powerful queens. If there’s a way to extend a lifespan — and I’m not verifying there is because I’d break all kinds of rules if I did — it would be one of those secrets you wouldn’t find out about until the queens in question were assured the match was going to stick across the decades and possibly centuries.”
“Vampires marry for a set amount of time,” I noted.
“They do. The extremely long-lived have no fantasy of happily-ever-after, only happy-together-until-we-outgrow-each-other.” He shrugged. “Or until they get on each other’s nerves.”
“What about you and Sophia? You’ll both live until you’re killed, right?”
“Since Sophia’s a dragon now, yes.”
“Are the two of you planning on forever?”
“I’m not open to talking about my personal life.”
I pulled in air and analyzed the scents. I got nothing beyond the fact I was sitting across from a dragon in human form. Not even a hint to his emotional or mental state. I regrouped. I needed to act, not react.
“Hypothetically speaking, if Ember and I didn’t visibly age, we’d have to move before people noticed.”
“Swans and dragons have the option of spending a few decades in Faerie when they get tired of pretending to be twenty-something on earth. Vampires don’t have that option.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dementor
The club threw a huge party for Ember and her teammates two nights before they left for Seattle. They were ranked in the mid-forties internationally, and they’d have to jump about a dozen spots to make it to the next tournament, but they’d never made it this far and the women were beyond excited.
She was off work until she returned from the tournament, so I kept her in my personal playroom the next day, bound to various pieces of equipment. When I’d built the wooden pony, I hadn’t been certain who I’d put on it. It’s a medieval piece of equipment that can do serious damage, which isn’t usually my thing, but the idea of watching a woman ride the narrow wooden plank, leaning forward and back to try to hopelessly find relief for her poor, abused cunt... Well, the very idea of it made my dick hard. I was looking forward to watching her ride the pony long enough to truly feel it.
Ember spent four hours on it, and she was crying twenty minutes in. She begged, she sobbed, and she rode it exactly as the historical accounts said she would.
But she never uttered her safeword.
It’s a damned good thing she can get off during painful sex though, or she’d have never been able to orgasm and change the next morning. Her pussy and asshole were so damned swollen I wasn’t sure I was gonna get my dick in. I didn’t even try for her ass, I just put a bunch of donuts on my dick and then bounced her on it until she came.
She’d been so uptight about the derby tournament, and about being turned into a dragon, someone had to do something, so I took her mind off her worries. We spent a good part of the last day in our animal forms, just chilling, and then changed back in time to make ourselves a feast.
I was preparing steaks while she cut potatoes, comfortable in my large kitchen. We worked well together.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Taking my mind off all the shit I was letting stress me out. The team is as good as we’re ever going to be. We’ve practiced. We know what we’re doing, and if we lose and I get turned into a dragon next week instead of next month? Then I get to fly with you on my back sooner rather than later.”
I kissed the top of her head. “And I’m looking forward to riding a dragon.” She was wearing one of my shirts, and I lifted it and popped her pussy right over her clit. “In more ways than one.”
“Sophia thinks we should do a binding ceremony before I’m turned.”
“We can do the binding after dinner, consummate it tonight, and then fully consummate it in the hotel after you’re through skating.” We’d be staying a few extra days in Seattle after the tournament — I’d booked us a few days at a BDSM themed B&B.
“Tonight? You don’t have to think about it? You’re sure?”
“I am. Is there a ritual designed for swans and other species? Or shall we make it up as we go along?”
“We can start with the generic ritual and add to it, as far as I know. Sophia didn’t warn me about what not to do, so I assume whatever we decide will be fine.”
“Let’s work through it and see what we come up with, and then maybe you get her on the line and double-check?”
“Yeah,” she bumped me with her hip. “Good idea.”
Ember
I have more power than the average swan maiden, and it occurred to me this might be something I should’ve told him. It had caused a problem with one of Able’s cousins when he’d whipped me bloody. We’d had a magical... I don’t know. Like when the battery connections are hooked up wrong and sparks fly. It hurt, but he got the brunt of the damage because I was clearly more magical or powerful or whatever than him.
“Bears don’t have royalty, right?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve only had magical reactions with members of a royal family. Sometimes it’s bad.”
He lifted his brows. “Able?”
“No. He was strong enough to hold my power down. His cousins...” I shrugged. “Pretty sure I was stronger than a few of them, but it only showed up when blood was involved.”
“We’ll be fine. Our energy has combined more times than I can count when we’ve orgasmed together. My power likes yours, and I’m pretty sure yours likes mine.”
I smiled. “Yeah, mine is a little addicted to yours, I think.”
“Prick our fingers and dot each other’s heart?” he asked.
Muscles I hadn’t realized were tense, relaxed. My shoulders settled. I breathed easier. “Yes. Perfect.”
“What were you worried about?”
“I think I was making it more complicated than it has to be. Whips and stuff. Swans and owls can both go a little overboard in how they draw blood.”
“If we were doing a ceremony where you gave yourself to me, sure, but we’re going into this as equals. You submit sexually, but you have your free will and you can stop me with a word. You’re mine, but I don’t own you. I’m yours, but you don’t own me. I love you and you love me. I vote we keep it simple — couple of drops of blood over our hearts and we exchange energy. I don’t need any promises from you, but I’m open to adding some if you need something from me.”
Part of me wanted a promise of monogamy, but I wasn’t ready to ask him to make that oath in blood.
“How’s this for wording? I love you. Body, mind, and soul, no matter the form.”
Tears came to my eyes and I couldn’t answer around the huge lump in my throat. I managed a larger-than-polite swig of wine before I told him, “That’s perfect. Simple, but it says it all.”
“Where would you like to do it?”