I rolled my eyes and pulled off one boot, then the other, and he stepped out of his pants. He reached down to pull me back up, crowding close again, his heat even more delicious now that he was nearly naked.
“You look like Rambo,” I said on a laugh as he dipped in for another kiss.
“Mmm, is that a good thing?” he murmured against my throat as his hand ventured up my shirt again.
“It works on you.”
He pulled back and quirked his mouth, causing a deep dimple to appear in his cheek. My pulse sped up at the image, his rugged features softened by the ridiculous sight of my bandana and that newly discovered attribute.
Everything about him appealed to me in surprising ways. I usually liked big, burly guys with beards, but despite his complete lack of body hair, I couldn’t resist running my hands over his skin. My palms tingled at the feel of his taut, bulging muscles beneath his smooth skin. But when I closed my eyes, I felt a texture unlike normal skin. If I focused, a velveteen sensation brushed beneath my palms, broken by regular, small ridges.
Tracing one of those ridges, I felt Gray cover my hand with his and guide my fingers in a more deliberate pattern.
“You can feel my scales, can’t you?”
“Is that what that is?” I asked without opening my eyes.
“They aren’t visible, but they don’t completely disappear even when I’m in human form. What do you think? Do you like it?”
“Yes,” I whispered, following a line of the tiny bumps down the center of his stomach. Aside from that faint texture, he felt like a man, and though he lacked the enticing line of hair down his belly that most men had, the scales seemed to converge in a faint ridge beneath his navel. My smile broadened, and I opened my eyes. “I love this part. Your happy trail.”
His eyelids grew heavy as I followed the line into the top of his boxers, pushing my hand beneath. He was so soft, the scales fading into nothing but luxuriant, velvety skin when I reached his groin and wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft. No scales here. When I squeezed, his aura flared bright red, the color obliterating the silver entirely.
“The color change is a cue, isn’t it? Red means you’re turned on. What color is mine?”
“Multiple colors, but getting redder with every second. The brighter it gets, the more magic you build up for release when I make you come.”
A pleasant tingle shot up my spine, and my core pulsed. “And how long do I have to wait for that?”
Without answering, he peeled my tank top over my head and paused to admire my naked chest. He rested his index finger at my sternum and traced the lines of the tattoo that began at a point just between my breasts and stretched down and across, covering the area between and beneath my breasts with a symmetrical pattern of intricate, colorful scrollwork with a six-sided mandala in the very center. He touched the center, and a spark seemed to pass from his finger into my heart.
In a gruff voice, he said, “I’m afraid if I taste you once, I’ll never want to leave. Do you believe in Fate, April?”
He was so earnest I wasn’t sure how to respond at first. I did, in fact, believe in a higher power, though I’d never really given it a name. I suspected there might be more than one, that there might even be minor gods like some cultures believed in, who held dominion over different aspects of the world and humanity. That I was here, half-undressed with this man I’d only met today—who wasn’t even human—was a sign on its own.
“Yes. And I think you must have come into the gallery for a reason, even if it was just to help me understand who I am. I want to see this through. If it doesn’t end, even better. Are you going to finish my lesson?”
He dropped his hands to the button of my shorts, unfastening it and lowering the zipper. His face a mask of concentration, he slipped his hand inside, his mouth quirking again.
“No panties,” he said, smiling fully now. But I was beyond smiling when his fingers drifted through the damp curls between my legs and into the soaking wetness of my pussy.
“Oh, fuck.” I dropped my head back and gasped as he explored my sensitive folds, teasing past my clitoris to circle my entrance with his fingertips. His mouth came down on mine again. He growled into the kiss, his excitement vibrating through me.
His hand still stroking in my shorts, he angled himself against my side, looped his free arm around my back and slipped behind me. “Bend over and take off your boots,” he rumbled into my ear. His hand slipped out of my shorts, and he wrapped his fingers around my hips, holding me tight to his groin. His granite cock pressed bruisingly hard against my ass, digging in as I bent at the hips to obey his command, too aroused to do anything else.
He didn’t move an inch, yet the act of bending over made my ass press harder against him. Every cell in my body lit up from the sensation of that hard length grinding so close to my core. Blood rushed to my head, and I broke out in a sweat, finding it difficult to focus as I clumsily plucked at the laces of my boots. He slipped one hand up to rest at my lower back, running a soft caress up my spine and back down, then hooked his fingers in the waistband of my shorts.
I got my boots untied and slipped them off, but when I tried to stand, he pressed a hand to the center of my back.
“Stay like that for a second.” His smooth, deep voice sounded distracted. I guess he liked these shorts.
Biting my lip, I braced my hands on my knees and craned my head over my shoulder. His aura was the first thing I saw, and the brilliant pulsing red of it made my eyes widen in surprise. It was even brighter than the red bandana still wrapped around his head. He smirked at me and urged me forward. “Grab the counter and hold on. Whatever you do, don’t let yourself come.”
“What? Why?” What kind of kinky game was he playing?
He nudged me forward a little more, and I had no choice but to grab hold of the opposite counter or stand up, but I wasn’t ready to give up on this yet. I ached for whatever was going to culminate from all that red magic he seemed to be absorbing.
“Because you’re not at your limit yet. I want to see how much more you can hold.”
I groaned. “Gray, is it really necessary to torture me?”
“Torture is, by definition, unpleasant.” He squeezed my ass with both hands and stroked his palms down until his fingertips grazed the backs of my thighs, just beneath the edge of my shorts. He traced the crease of my ass inward until he reached my core, caressing with the fingertips of both hands. “Is this unpleasant?”
“No. But, holy fuck, I want more. Why won’t you just fuck me?”
“I will as soon as I find your limit.” He moved his hands back up and grabbed the top of my shorts, tugging them down over my ass. “Or my own,” he said almost to himself when my ass was bare. Then he bent down and dropped a kiss at the peak of my cleft. His lips felt hot, and a zing of awareness shot up my spine. I’d have preferred to bathe before he got up close and personal with my ass, but at this point, if he didn’t care, neither did I.
My shorts slipped the rest of the way down on their own. Gray exhaled a long breath that gusted over my hot pussy, and I let out a whimper and another plea.
“Sweet Mother, April. Your aura is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Every time I tease you, more magic floods into you, but there’s always room for more. Dragons always have a limit. Not a small one but still a limit. Look at my aura.”