Her Dragon Protector (Alpha Protectors Book 6) Page 3

  I’d been fighting a losing battle since the train, trying to convince my head—and my cock—that this wasn’t a good idea.

  Need lit a fire inside of me and I ground to a halt, dragging her to me and securing her against my chest. Dropping the bags, I slid my hand down her back, over the bump of her bra strap, following the length of her spine until my palm covered the swell of her ass. “Playing games?” I growled. Gripping her ass, I dragged her closer, her soft stomach cushioning my aching cock. I wanted to lift her up and fit the thick length where it belonged, to push her against a wall and grind my burning need into her until she gasped and pleaded for me to take her. I wanted to—

  Her soft moan shattered the fantasy.

  I blinked away the flames that clouded my vision.

  Her lips were parted and moist, her head tilted back and throat exposed. As if in offering.

  If I were to take her—make her my mate—that is where I would mark her. A shudder ran through me as I imagined sliding my fangs into her throat as I drove my cock deep into her pussy.

  Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks, then she opened her eyes. Green fire burned in her gaze, flames flickering and jumping, licking at pupils dilated to black orbs.

  “Your dragon,” I whispered, unable to do anything but stare.

  Swirling in the green depths, a dragon reared its head, its wings spread and fire spewing from its mouth in a glorious display of pure power.

  A green dragon. Not bronze, or gold, or silver like every other dragon I knew. Green.

  What I hadn’t truly believed until now hit home. Her brother was right, the scrolls told the truth.

  She was a Seer.

  The only one left of her kind.

  Which meant she would never be mine.

  Chapter Seven

  Astrid

  The way he was looking at me, with a raw hunger so intense that for a brief second, I couldn’t breathe.

  A hunger I also felt, the ache between my thighs relentless and foreign.

  Then his words registered.

  “I don’t have a dragon,” I protested, my voice weak with uncertainty.

  “You have. And she’s glorious,” he murmured, his certainty washing away any lingering doubts from my childhood. If he could look at me like this, then maybe I wasn’t broken. Maybe I wasn’t a failure or a freak.

  I watched as emotions played over his face, trying to guess the thoughts behind them. It had never been like this with anyone before, the excitement and uncertainty of not knowing what was coming next was both thrilling and unnerving. One of the reasons why I was still untouched at the decidedly unfashionable age of twenty-six was that knowing exactly what a guy thought of my thighs or my stomach, or what he’d like to do to the woman sitting at the next table kind of ruined dates. And therefore, anything that might follow. The other reason? It sounded silly, but I hadn’t met anyone who I wanted enough. Until now.

  Mesmerized, I held my breath. Will he kiss me? But even more important, will I know what to do? My stomach flipped with anxious anticipation, zings of fire streaking through my veins and turning up the heat.

  “Astrid…” he murmured, a furrow forming on his brow. His jaw clenched.

  No, no, no! Don’t clench! I willed his mouth to relax, even better, to mold itself to mine.

  But it didn’t. “We’re going to miss our flight,” he eventually said.

  Air escaped me in a disappointing whoosh. “Screw the flight?” I said hopefully.

  A startled chuckle escaped him as he regarded me thoughtfully. “We could shift and—”

  “I can’t shift.” I thought he’d understood, but maybe I hadn’t made it clear. “I’m a defect, a shifter that can’t shift, a reject of nature, a—”

  “Don’t.” The vehemence in his voice cut through my list, one I’d only just begun. I’d had many years to come up with names for exactly what I was.

  I shrugged, masking the pain I always felt with feigned nonchalance. “It is what it is.”

  “You don’t get to call yourself those names.”

  “What? That I’m a mistake? That I should never have been born. That I represent what all shifters fear. Face it, Trent, I’m an abomination. That’s why I left.”

  His face darkened, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. “Don’t you ever describe yourself like that again!” He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. Flames leaped in his eyes. “Your clan called you those things?”

  Shit. He looked ready to kill someone, or at least tear something apart with his bare hands. His skin rippled and his muscles bulged under my hands. The heat escalating to scorching level. “No, they only thought them.”

  “You will point these people out to me.” It was an order, one hissed through gritted teeth.

  I stroked a hand down his chest, petting him in an effort to calm him down. He appeared to be about thirty seconds away from shifting, and a humongous dragon in the departures lounge at Heathrow Airport would be kind of hard to explain. Or hide. “Trent, it’s okay. They don’t matter to me,” I murmured in a low voice. And they didn’t—at least, not anymore. At first it had stung, but over the years I’d grown to like myself and accept who I was. And who I wasn’t. The whole going home thing had dragged it all back up, that’s all.

  He took a deep breath, grabbing my hand and holding it on his chest. “I can’t bear the thought of you believing what those idiots said.”

  “I don’t. Not really. I’m okay with who I am. And if nobody else can accept me, then that’s fine too.” Except you, I wanted to say, but couldn’t.

  “Oh, no worries there. They’ll accept you, you can count on it,” he muttered in a voice that was void of all emotion.

  I peered at him, trying to read his face, but he wasn’t giving anything away. “What do you mean by that?” Just having to ask was weird. When he didn’t answer, I gave him a little shove. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Something that looked a little like pain crossed his face. “I know it’s a lot to ask, given that we’ve only known each other a few hours—”

  I checked my watch, blinking in astonishment. “Just under five hours.”

  He nodded, then his eyes narrowed as they took in my chunky watch. One that had obviously once belonged to a man, the silver casing scratched and battered with age and use. Before he had a chance to question me, I carried on, “What did you want to ask me?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes,” I answered without hesitation. I had a strong suspicion that this strong, powerful man was my true mate, that fate had chosen him for me. So, it wasn’t a choice whether to trust him, or not. I just did.

  He blinked, thrown for a brief moment by my instant reply, but didn’t question it. He continued, “Then trust that I will always put your happiness above everything else.”

  Well. What could I say to that? I nodded, a plan already hatching.

  “Good. Now, we really are about to miss our flight.” Grabbing my hand, we sprinted for the gate.

  Eight hours of forced proximity to Trent? Yeah, I don’t mind if I do.

  Chapter Eight

  Trent

  It took me exactly thirty-seven minutes to know for certain I was screwed, and nearly half of that was waiting for takeoff, then taxiing down the runway. Somehow I had ended up with the window seat, and if I wanted to stand and stretch my legs, I’d have to slide past Astrid. So, I’d settled in for the long haul.

  But she certainly hadn’t. When we’d first boarded she’d wriggled around in her seat, her thigh pressing and rubbing against mine, then she’d leaped up to grab something from the overhead locker, her ass swaying in front of my face like a hypnotic pendulum.

  It had taken every ounce of control I possessed not to grab that plump, delicious ass and plant it on my lap where it belonged.

  No. Not where it belonged, dammit!

  I resisted the urge to smack the side of my head, not wanting to encourage more curious
looks than we’d already been getting. It was like the damn humans on this plane had never seen a 6’5” man crammed into economy class before, all side glances and hushed whispers. Maybe we should have waited for a later flight and traveled business class.… I nearly asked Astrid what they were thinking, but decided I didn’t give a fuck.

  And then there were the flight attendants. Their glossy lips shone extra slick with a fresh coat of whatever it was they’d plastered on, their slim uniform clad hips wiggling their way down the aisle toward me, the predatory gleam in their eyes surprisingly effective for humans.

  And that’s when Astrid had growled.

  If she’d been in dragon form, her wings would have spread, her tail would have lashed back and forth, and her fire would have burnt the Barbie doll attendants to a crisp.

  Staking her claim.

  Fuck, she was hot.

  So, I did what any sensible, red-blooded man would have done in my situation.

  I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep.

  That was six minutes ago. I knew, because I’d been counting the seconds, trying to shore up my grip on reality while studiously ignoring the way her thigh pressed against mine. Her unique scent perfumed the air, swirling around me and dragging me kicking and screaming into a full on speculation of whether her brother would kill me the second he saw me, or if he’d make me suffer.

  Wait! Her scent?

  I sniffed the air, tasting her on my tongue. Ripe cherries and smoky incense; rich and sweet and complex. But she’d come up a blank when we’d first met … it had to have something to do with her dragon only now awakening.

  “Trent?”

  “Hmmm?” I murmured, mulling the idea over. But why now?

  “I’m scared of heights,” she said, her voice trembling.

  My eyes flashed open as I turned in my seat to look at her.

  Her bronzed skin had paled and tension bracketed her eyes, her fingers turning white at the knuckles as she clasped onto the chair arms for dear life.

  I tried to imagine what it would be like, to have never experienced the pure joy of soaring through the open skies, the wind coasting beneath my wings and lifting me higher. The exhilaration of diving to the earth, knowing that with one single beat of my wings I could spin and roll and avert my impending collision. A hollowness ached inside my chest for what she had never known. For what had been stolen from her. I covered her hand with mine, peeling her fingers off the chair arm. “Your dragon wouldn’t let you fall.”

  “I don’t know her. Why would I trust her?” There was a note of petulance in her voice, and I couldn’t blame her. If my dragon had abandoned me for so long, then I’d be a little pissed and unsure too.

  The cabin lights dimmed, the people around us settling in for the long flight through the night.

  Nudging her chin back up with my hand from where it had dipped, I continued, “She’s a part of you, you just need to get to know her.”

  “Will you help me? When we arrive home; back at Jewelcrest?”

  She assumed that because I had come to find her that I was a part of her clan. But what could I say? She was staring at me, her eyes filled with hope and trust, and I couldn’t abandon her to her fate. Wouldn’t. I owed it to her to see her through what was coming, even though it was the last thing I wanted to witness. My molars ached as I ground them together, self-preservation warring with the need to see her safe and happy. I would have to stand by and watch as men fought over her, vying for the right to claim her as their mate. Strong and important Alphas from clans all over the States, each desperate for the chance to win her hand.

  To take the Seer as his mate and form an alliance with the Jewelcrest Clan.

  But she knows all this, remember? Fuck, you just gave her a play-by-play!

  Guileless emerald eyes blinked at me, the glimmer of hope fading in the wake of my continued silence.

  “Yes. I’ll help you with your dragon.” And then I’m gone, I added silently, hoping that she understood.

  She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. She glanced down, her smile widening.

  My thumb had been swirling a lazy path across the back of her hand, my body betraying me with its need to touch and connect with her.

  She leaned forward, a loose strand of hair grazing my arm. “Can you help me with something else?”

  Sweet motherfucking hell! Peeling my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I dragged my eyes up from the plumped up mound of her breasts. “What, Astrid?” The thread of control I clung to was fraying before my very eyes.

  “I’d like to try something.” Her eyes dipped for a second, her throat working as she swallowed.

  “Tell me.” I barely recognized the hoarse whisper as my own.

  “I—I want to join the Mile-High Club.”

  So do I … my dragon piped up.

  I dug my free hand into the chair arm, the metal warping beneath my fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I eventually forced out, ignoring that my mind was screaming yes!

  Her lips parted.

  My grip tightened, the chair arm groaning. I surged to my feet, my head slamming into the overhead locker. Hunching over, I gave it a rub while shoving a hand in my pocket, hastily hiding my rapidly thickening cock. “I need to go to the men’s room,” I muttered.

  “Yes! That’s exactly where we need to go!” She jumped up and the already tiny space shrank even further, every spare inch filled with her gorgeous curves and nibble worthy skin.

  “No!” It came out as a roar.

  Passengers craned their heads to stare.

  Didn’t she know I was two seconds away from throwing her down onto the floor and mounting her like an animal?

  I sank back into my seat. “We can’t do this,” I offered. It was weak, as if my subconscious knew I’d already lost the fight. But why was I fighting it?

  Because I knew once would never be enough, not with her.

  Sinking down next to me, she squeezed my hand. She took a deep breath and I instinctively braced myself. “I know you want me, and I want you, so why are we playing around?”

  Her words sank in, striking a chord deep within. Then it hit me. “You know?”

  She nodded.

  Had she seen it; was I fighting something inevitable? Was I a fool for resisting?

  What if she’s your true mate? After a taste, could you give her up?

  Worse—could I stand never knowing the truth?

  Chapter Nine

  Astrid

  He looked like he wanted to devour me. Whole. A musky scent tickled my nose, followed on it’s heels by the scent of grass, conjuring images of a garden awakening after the sun has burned off the morning dew.

  His hand trailed up my arm, fingertips grazing my bare skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Cupping my chin, his eyes captured mine. “You’ve seen it? Us?”

  I couldn’t speak. A small moan escaped as images slide into my head. Images of limbs entwined and writhing, Trent capturing my groans with his lips, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. His strong, muscular frame braced over me, beads of sweat snaking down his chest, captured by the ridges of his torso. Vision me follows the trail with my tongue, the salty taste of his skin dragging another moan from my lips. My legs fall open, spreading wider to accommodate the thrust of his hips as he flexes above me, the feel of his cock thick and hard inside me. Vision Trent growls, punctuating the primal sound by dragging me to him. “Mine…” he whispers.

  Eyes flicking open, I stared at him. The real him in front of me. “What was that?”

  “What?” His eyes slid away, shadowed with secrets.

  “You said I was—” I swallowed hard, the memory of him moving inside me so real I could almost still feel him.

  “Christ, Astrid…” he groaned, his pupils dilating as he scented the air.

  “You called me yours: mine.”

  His hand on my chin tightened, the tension in his jaw threading through his body. “I’m sorry,”
he muttered, then his mouth crashed against mine, his lips firm and hot and sliding in a brutal quest to taste me.

  On a gasp my lips parted, yielding to him.

  A throaty groan rumbled through his chest as his tongue slid between my teeth. His hand moved to my hair, fingers sliding through the messy knot and holding me in place as he plundered and demanded that I give him everything.

  This is what it’s like to be kissed! The thought drifted through my mind, chased away by the frantic urge to get closer, to nip and taste and take. My tongue ventured forward and was immediately captured by his in a coiling dance, our lips moving and sliding. My breath mingling with his, I slide my hand across the chair and into his lap, tracing his muscular thigh through the heated denim.

  He was so big under my hand; muscular and firm—he could snap me in half. My own body was soft and jiggled more than I liked, but his was hard to the touch. And he was so hot he almost burned. I needed to get closer, to feel more of him. My hand slid higher as I leaned toward him, my back arching and my thigh hooking between his in the cramped space.

  Two seconds later I was straddling his lap, his mouth moving in a determined path down my throat in little nips and bites, his tongue swirling over my skin.

  His hips thrust up as his hands pinned me in place.

  My head fell back on a soft cry, the feel of him grinding against that secret place almost too much to bear. “Trent!” I half whispered, half moaned, wanting to see the look in his eyes. To know that he felt the same.

  The gold flames had swallowed up the soft brown, widening as they crashed with mine. Time stood still for a split second as we stared at each other; his eyes mirroring my exhilaration and wonder at finally finding the one.

  My true mate.

  Then I was sat back in my own seat, nursing a case of whiplash.

  “What the—”

  “We can’t do this.”

  I rounded on him. “What?”

  He held his head in his hands, eyes squeezed shut. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as he struggled to calm down. “I don’t deserve you.”