The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(40)
Author: G.A. Aiken

Rhona groaned when Vigholf’s tongue slid inside her, licking her out, and only stopping to tease her cl*t with the tip. He did it over and over, making Rhona’s body writhe beneath his, her hands gripping the back of his head.

Vigholf took hold of her legs, pushing them back and spreading them wide. He held them down while he feasted on her. Rhona’s eyes closed, and she bit her bottom lip. When her body began to shake, he latched his lips around her cl*t and suckled.

Rhona barely held back her scream by shoving her fist against her mouth and biting down on her knuckles. As the first orgasm swept through her, Vigholf continued sucking her cl*t while he pushed first one, then a second finger inside her. He stroked those fingers in and out and tugged on her cl*t until she came again, her body nearly twisting out of his arms.

Groaning, tears in her eyes, Rhona realized Vigholf had moved away from her, but just as quickly he was back, only now he was completely nak*d. Stil dazed, she let the Northlander lift her up and turn her away from him. He pul ed her onto his lap and pressed his hand against her back until her upper body was stretched out, facedown on her bedrol . He pul ed her back a bit more and she felt his c*ck nudge against her.

Rhona took hold of the bedrol , biting down on it, seconds before Vigholf rammed himself inside her.

She choked on a sob, his big c*ck fil ing her, taking her. He held her tight with his hands while he rocked her back and forth. He moved over her, his tongue gliding up her spine, teasing the back of her neck and al while he was stil inside her. He kissed her cheek, her throat, until his lips pressed against her ear. He was panting hard, but she knew he was saying something. She tried to focus away from the next orgasm working its way up her spine to hear him. To hear what he was trying to say to her.

“Everything, Rhona. You are everything to me.”

And that’s when that next orgasm hit, ripping in and through her, leaving Rhona lying there covered in sweat, exhausted and unable to move.

Vigholf grasped her hands in his, held them as he came hard, his whole body tight around hers until he col apsed against her back.

Vigholf forced himself to rol off Rhona before he crushed her. Her arm reached out, stretching over his chest. He pul ed her close until she lay on top, her head resting against him.

They stayed like that for a long time, Vigholf’s hands stroking up and down her sweat-soaked back, his eyes locked on the cave ceiling.

“You know,” he said into the quiet, “at some point we real y must do this while we’re dragon.” He grinned. “I’d love to see what you can do with that delicious tail of yours.”

When Rhona didn’t answer, Vigholf assumed she was asleep. But she moved up until she could rest her arms around his shoulders and bury her face against his neck. Her head lifted a bit, and she said, “I’ve grown ridiculously fond of you, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive you for that.” Then she pressed her hand to his cheeks. “And you’ve become everything to me, too.” Closing his eyes, Vigholf immediately wrapped his arms around Rhona, holding her close.

He final y had what he wanted, but now he’d have to find a way to keep them both alive in order to have even a hope of enjoying it.

Chapter 30

Rhona brushed his hair off his face and Vigholf opened his eyes. Even though they were deep underground, he knew it was morning and Rhona was already dressed and ready for what they had to do.

“It’s time,” she said.

Vigholf nodded and sat up. “Do we have a plan?”

Rhona sighed and headed out of the cavern. “We have something.”

Vigholf didn’t like the sound of that.

They dressed in cloaks provided by the Rebel King’s men that would help them blend better. Since Brannie would be the one retrieving the king’s sister, he gave her a necklace and a smal vial of liquid. “Show the necklace to my sister. If she sees this, she’l know I sent you. Then get her to drink what’s in the vial.”

“What’s it do?” Rhona asked.

“You need my sister awake and alert to help you get out of there. The effects won’t last long, so you’l need to move. But once she drinks this, she’l be strong enough to help you help her.”

“A squad of my men and I wil show you the way to the city gates,” General Varro said. “But you’l be walking in alone. Avoid the city guards. They have a tendency to question suspicious-looking outsiders.”

“And you five look very suspicious,” the king muttered.

“If you are stopped, let the Northlander do the talking. They’re more accustomed to seeing your kind and more likely to let you go. But a Southlander of any kind—you’re in trouble.” He glanced at the king. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.”

Annwyl walked up to the king. One monarch talking to another. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“I hope you’re right.”

As promised, General Varro and some of his men escorted them about ten miles from the main gate. With surprising ease, they slipped into the sea of travelers flowing into the city. As the king had also promised, with so many coming and going at that time of the day, especial y with the monthlong games in progress, it was incredibly easy for them to pass the guards and soldiers without being questioned. Although they did have their stories ready should they be stopped.

Once in, they fol owed the crowds to the stadium, a large, circular building fil ed with stands that looked down over a fight-ready arena and was connected to the royal palace.

Instead of the front entrance that paying customers were going into, however, the five of them went to the side entrance that led into the dungeons, and got into the long line.

While they waited, Rhona turned to her cousins. “Are you ready for this?” And when Izzy didn’t answer right away, Rhona snapped her fingers in her face.

“Huh?”

Good gods. “I said are you ready for this?”

Izzy frowned. “Ready for what?”

Rhona curled her hands into fists.

“Oh! You mean . . . oh, yeah. Yeah. I’m ready.”

Unable to help herself, Rhona felt the inherent need to lecture the girl. “You have to pay attention, Izzy. You can’t be daydreaming or thinking about your next meal. You have to be here. In this moment. Understand?”

The girl nodded. “Aye. I understand. I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Good.” Rhona focused on Brannie. “And you?”

“I’m ready.”

Final y, their group reached the entrance and the table where masters and sponsors offered up the services of their fighters. Here, men would check in those wil ing to fight to the death for money. If the fighter won, glory and riches could be theirs. If they lost, their bodies were dumped in a trash heap and burned at the end of every month. Amazing to Rhona how many of them thought it was worth it, even though they would be fighting against the empire’s greatest pit fighters.

Rhona waited behind Vigholf as he stood at the table. An Iron in human form took one look at him and shook his head. “No dragons today. Only humans.”

“I got humans. Me own private stock.”

Vigholf grabbed Annwyl and Izzy and pul ed them forward. He yanked the hoods of their cloaks off their heads. “Pretty, yeah? And big tits on this one,” he said about Annwyl.

Brannie abruptly looked down at her feet, her shoulders shaking. But Rhona didn’t see what was so damn funny.

The Iron looked up, eyes narrowing in calculation. “Women?” He sniffed a little. “Not worth much if they die quick. Need someone with actual skil s, actual tal—”

Vigholf clicked his tongue against his teeth and Annwyl caught hold of the guard closest to her. She yanked him down and snapped his neck by twisting her hands once. When he fel , his comrade rushed forward. Izzy broke his leg with her shield and, while he was on the ground, Annwyl finished him with a dagger from her boot.

The Iron grinned, feeling absolutely no loss at the human guards. “Yeah. Al right. We’l take ’em.” And with that—the game had begun.

Chapter 31

The tunnels were fil ed with fighters and the ones who control ed or owned them. Annwyl and Iseabail were quickly noticed, the idea of women fighting getting everyone’s instantaneous attention. They were given the standard short sword used by al the soldiers and the short, dark red tunic to wear. On top of that a fancy but rather weak—in Rhona’s estimation—breastplate made of strips of steel and brass fittings that tied in the front, was also added, along with a sword belt, and army sandals. They were also al owed a second smal weapon of their choosing. Izzy chose her dagger and Annwyl a smal useless-looking steel stick. The guards laughed at her over her choice, but stopped when she glared. Not that Rhona blamed them. After al that, the pair were al owed no helmets and they were told to wear their hair down. In other words, the ones running the fights wanted the audience to see that Izzy and Annwyl were women.

By late afternoon, they were up. The guards who managed these fights yanked Annwyl and Izzy away from Vigholf. When he tried to fol ow, he was shoved back, and stared down by an Iron in human form.

Vigholf held his hands up. “Yeah. Al right. But I better get something if the bitches die. They weren’t easy to find.” The Iron sneered at him as only an Iron could and walked away. As soon as the announcement was made that females were to fight, the crowd’s roar escalated tenfold, and Vigholf, using the hand he held behind his back, motioned for Rhona and Brannie to go.

It real y wasn’t hard to slip away; as the king had said, al attention was on the two women entering the arena.

With a last look at Vigholf, his eyes on her as she moved through the crowd of men and dragons trying to see out the steel grates, Rhona took her cousin and did one of the stupidest things she’d done in a long while.

Izzy and Annwyl were seconds from stepping out into the arena when someone grabbed their arms and steel manacles were placed on Izzy’s right wrist and Annwyl’s left. The manacles were locked, a thick, three-foot steel chain stretched between them.

Annwyl snarled, “You son of a—”

“Enjoy, ladies!” The guard laughed and shoved them out into the arena, slamming the gate behind them, trapping them.

They stumbled, their eyes trying to adjust to the bright sunlight they hadn’t seen since they’d entered the tunnels, their ears trying to handle the screams and cheers of the crowd.

“You al right, Iz?” Annwyl asked her.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

They walked out into the middle of the arena, Annwyl looking up into the crowd.

“There,” Izzy murmured. “Over there.”

Izzy motioned at what had to be the royal seats. They were high above the ground, but without anything blocking the view of the carnage below.

The seats were upholstered in velvet and silk, servants hovered nearby, and everyone had fresh fruit, wine, or both.

“I bet that’s her,” Annwyl said. “I bet that’s Vateria.”

It could be. Izzy real y didn’t know. Although she was certain the female was a She-dragon in human form. She wore a tunic of the finest silk draped around her in the fashion of the Provinces, gold and silver flowers entwined throughout her perfectly sculpted silver-colored hair. But stil . . .