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Lolita Lopez: Dead Sexy Dragon

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Lolita Lopez Dead Sexy Dragon

Dead Sexy Dragon: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The last thing dragon shifter Stig Wyvern needs is his dead friend’s kid sister showing up on his doorstep. He’s just minutes away from entering a mating phase. Sharing his isolated house with the young woman he’s desperately lusted after for quite some time is a recipe for disaster. But Cora Cardenas has nowhere else to go. She’s in deep trouble with some really nasty people and Stig is the only one who can protect her. That he’s deliciously sexy and makes her tingle with the simplest of smiles is just a bonus. Cora quickly realizes Stig is hiding something from her. To make matters worse, she’s plagued with breathtakingly naughty dreams starring a shadowed lover who bears a startling resemblance to her host. And just what the hell is going on down in the basement at night? Stig needs to get Cora out of his house but his inner beast has other ideas. He’s found his mate and she’s not going anywhere...

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As Stig gathered the lengths of chain and hung them on their wall pegs, he was troubled by the vivid dream snippets now flashing through his mind. He was a little ashamed he’d conjured up such a dirty vision of Cora touching herself. Despite the shame, Stig started to get hard at the images of Cora sliding tongue-slicked fingers into her tight cunt. Her breathless moans as she came rang in his ears. The urge to work the head of his cock overwhelmed him.

God! What kind of a pervert was he?

Stig shook his head, got dressed, and left the unlocked chamber. He climbed the stairs slowly, his body still sore from its night of punishment. He hesitated on the top step and listened carefully. His highly acute dragon senses picked up on the faint sound of Cora’s deep and relaxed breaths.

Certain she still slept, Stig cautiously entered the kitchen and quietly crept up to his bedroom. His gaze hovered on Cora’s door. Standing in such close proximity, Stig was overwhelmed by her scent. The light, bright smell of freshly cut grass and some kind of citrus tickled his nostrils. And there, even more powerful, was the musk of sex.

That was a scent he hadn’t expected. Stig inhaled deeply and confirmed his initial identification. The smell of her arousal filtered through him, setting his body on edge. He could practically taste her sweet pussy. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips in anticipation. He took a step toward her door before stopping abruptly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His harsh whisper sounded incredibly loud in the quiet house. It was enough to shake him from his lust-induced stupor.

With a gulp, Stig took a step back and tried to make sense of his primal urge. He remembered his dreams. The sight of Cora writhing atop her bed spurred his desire. A troubling thought entered his mind. What if that hadn’t been a dream after all? What if he’d connected with Cora on a much more intimate level?

“Shit.” Stig turned on his heel and shut himself away in the bathroom. He started a hot shower and peeled out of his clothing. A quick glimpse in the mirror and he caught the flash of his dragon’s reptilian eyes. The beast was subdued during daylight but lurked and waited for his chance to strike. If Cora’s smell made him ravenous with need, how the hell was he supposed to control himself in the same room with her?

With a groan of frustration, Stig stepped into the shower and stuck his face in the bracing spray. The blast of hot water cleared his foggy head. After a night forced into dragon form, he always woke a little groggy and confused. Hopefully a shower and some breakfast would allow him enough time to get his dragon instincts under control. He couldn’t risk behaving inappropriately with Cora—or revealing his true identity.

Shit. Cora. What the hell was he going to do about her? She couldn’t stay here—that was for damn sure. Until his mating period ended, it was too dangerous to keep her nearby. She spurred his arousal into dizzying heights. He couldn’t imagine how strong his scent must have been last night. Were it not for the safety of his lair, he’d have been a bright shining beacon for the Knights who hunted his kind.

Thankfully his human form produced very little dragon scent of any kind. The sunlight burned away whatever excess might have clung to him. In the old days, dragons had used the precious daylight hours to move from hiding place to hiding place, their scent signature masked. Shunning—the practice of separating males about to go into heat—had been common among the small tribes. Separate one to save many.

By the dawning of the twentieth century, new compounds were discovered by the alchemists among the dragon communities that suppressed the heat phases. The side effects were mostly intolerable and often dangerous. Stig had requested the drugs to suppress his phases during his military service. Because the Brotherhood of the Green Hide—the dragons charged with protecting their species from the slayers of the Knights of St. George—needed intel and artifacts from areas like Afghanistan and the old buried sites in Iraq, he’d been given permission to obtain and use the compounds.

They’d very nearly killed him. After leaving the service, he’d spent four months at Nico’s manor in a sort of rehab. He’d sworn then that he’d never take the drugs again. Locking himself up in the cell was better than going through that.

Stig wrapped a towel around his waist and crossed the hall to his bedroom. He paused in the doorway. The smell of bacon and brewing coffee made his stomach growl. He backed out and craned his neck at Cora’s door. It stood open and revealed a neatly made bed and stacks of luggage. He fought the urge to go inside and snoop. The odds of finding anything in her bags to tell him why she’d shown up on his doorstep were low. He’d rather not risk being discovered rifling through her things.

The ring of his cell phone startled him. He snatched it off the dresser and glanced at the display. It was Ignatius, the oldest dragon of their cobbled-together tribe and the head of the Brotherhood.

“Yeah?” Stig didn’t bother with the usual “good morning.”

“Any problems last night?” Ignatius was gruff and all business.

“No.” Stig didn’t hesitate. Mentioning Cora’s presence would just piss Ignatius off, and that was the last thing he needed right now. There was no reason for his very, very old friend to get bent out of shape. Cora would be gone by lunch.

“Good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The line went dead. Stig tossed his phone onto the bed and made quick work of pulling on some jeans and a navy blue tee. His work boots and belt completed his laid-back ensemble. Finding out what had brought Cora to his doorstep last night, complete with her entire apartment in boxes, remained his top priority. If she was in real trouble, he’d move heaven and hell to protect her, but if it was something less pressing, she had to get out of his cabin until his phase ended. As he dressed, Stig tried to think of how to approach the subject of evicting Cora from the guest bedroom. It sure as hell wouldn’t be easy.

Downstairs the delicious scents of a home-cooked breakfast nearly knocked him off his feet. His mouth watered with anticipation as he entered the kitchen and swept his gaze over the table near the bay window. Plates laden with his favorites took center stage: biscuits fresh out of the oven, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon strips. Apparently she intended to butter him up with food. Frankly that was a-okay with him.

“Morning.” Cora smiled at him from behind the butcher block island. Seeing her in the same light blue camisole and striped cotton drawstring bottoms from the dream hit him like a punch to the gut. She alternated scoops of vanilla yogurt and berries into rocks glasses. “You don’t have parfait cups,” she explained, and placed the glasses on the table.

“Never needed them.” Stig poured a cup of coffee from the steaming carafe and sat in his usual chair. He grabbed a plate and piled food onto it. Across the table, Cora served herself and sipped apple juice. Bringing up the dreams seemed best done while they were occupied with food. “You sleep okay?”

“Yes.”

Her clipped reply caught his attention. Despite her downward gaze, the stain of a blush was evident on her cheeks. His belly clenched. So that hadn’t been a simple dream. His dragon had preyed on Cora’s psychic energy. That type of thing had happened before but never in such a sexual manner. In the close, cramped quarters at war, Stig often found it impossible to keep from feeding off the dream energy of his comrades. He’d joined his friends on fishing excursions and football games and the like but this thing with Cora? That was all new.

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