2. Sebastian

I smooth my hands down the lapels of my perfectly tailored tuxedo for the thousandth time, resisting the urge to loosen my bowtie. It suddenly feels like it"s strangling me. Which, come to think of it, is a pretty apt metaphor for this whole ridiculous situation.

Don"t get me wrong, I know the importance of doing my part for the good of the species. Dragons may be at the top of the proverbial food chain, but even we"ve got to worry about going extinct if the bloodlines run dry. That"s why this whole arranged marriage thing started in the first place—to ensure the continuation of our lineage.

Unfortunately, the test-tube baby-making thing doesn't work for us. So here I am, a superior genetic specimen all dressed up with no place to go but down the matrimonial path.

I steal a glance toward the ornate double doors that lead into the main chapel, tapping my patent leather shoe impatiently. Where is this woman, already?

I have no idea who I'm marrying today.

The Brides for Beasts program did their best to match me with someone "suitable" based on my bio stats and preferences, but let"s be real. They have to be scraping the bottom of the human barrel to find potentials for this whole farce to begin with. So my hopes aren"t exactly high.

At best, I"m picturing some wide-eyed attention-starved bimbo who can"t resist a taste of fame and fortune, even at the cost of shackling herself to the first moneybags who comes along. At worst...well, it doesn"t take a lot of imagination for a guy like me to envision plenty of horror scenarios. Let"s just say I"ve seen the darker side of humanity more than once in my corporate dealings—thieves, embezzlers, cold-blooded sociopaths. I"ve got a billion reasons to be skeptical of the motivations of members of the human race.

But hey, I"m nothing if not a pragmatist. If this gets me a warm body to satisfy my draconian urges and a womb to plant my seed in, it"s a small price to pay. And if my bride happens to be a money-hungry succubus or secretly plots to poison me and make off with my fortune...well, whatever. Let"s just say I'm not anticipating any happily ever after storybook ending. Low expectations, that"s the key.

The chapel doors finally creak open and I stiffen, craning my neck for a first glimpse of the woman I"m about to be saddled with.

And blue skies above, when I finally lay eyes on her, my hardening cock nearly splits my tuxedo trousers right down the middle.

Even from my vantage point at the altar, I can tell she"s utterly breathtaking. Her jet-black curls just brush her bare, silky, brown shoulders. Her full lips are slightly parted, and those slim curves hugged by delicate white lace...sensational.

The scent drifting off her glistening skin alone is enough to make me half-delirious. Sugary, comforting, yet with a faint spicy undertone that"s downright intoxicating.

It"s official, my scales are throbbing and my tail is aching to burst forth and knock over the entire pew section. My inner dragon wants out in the worst way, if only to crush this svelte little vixen against me so I can lick every square inch and impregnate her with my fiery hot?—

Whoa, there. Down, boy. At least let the poor woman say her vows first before you devour her.

I practically drool as she approaches until she"s standing right in front of me, gazing up with those inquisitive hazel eyes. My throat constricts and it"s all I can do not to reach out for her and drag her to me in a crushing vice.

There"s a charge, a magnetic pull radiating between us that I haven"t felt in...well, ever. It should terrify me, but somehow it only heightens the fever in my blood.

"Hello there," I murmur, my voice already thickened with a husky undertone. Not exactly the most eloquent line, but I"m losing brain cells by the second just breathing in her heavenly aroma.

Her smile deepens becomingly, a faint blush reddens those perfect cheekbones.

"Hi." She swallows, giving me an appreciative once-over that sends a fresh nuclear blast of desire surging through me.

I have to admit, I may have underestimated the benefits of this whole arrangement.

The officiant, some bespectacled middle-aged dude, clears his throat pointedly and launches into the usual treacly vows. Not that I"m registering a single word, mind you. I"m too busy fighting the overwhelming urge to lick the glistening sheen of gloss off my bride"s lower lip.

We say our "I do's" and next thing I know, I'm prompted to seal this deal with a kiss. Hell yes!

Happy to oblige, I grip my new wife by the waist and pull her flush against me. She lets out a soft gasp, her generous breasts flattening to my chest, and suddenly this entire marriage thing becomes a godsend.

And then our lips meet, and that spicy-sweet essence of hers floods my senses completely. It"s scorching, electric, sizzling through my veins like I"m guzzling liquid fire. Every nerve, every fiber of my dragon self is utterly ignited in that searing moment. My clawed inner beast roars in triumph, wings beating violently as if to take flight.

This was no mere genetic lottery or computer-matched pairing. This...this female was made for me alone. Whatever forces are at work, whether fates or stars or just dumb luck, it doesn"t matter.

I now understand why the other dragons go on and on incessantly about their mated females. I always laughed and called them whipped, but I get it now. I get why they happily accept the label.

I drink in her lush mouth and her little mewing sounds, letting out a feral growl from deep in my chest as I crush her lithe form ever tighter. And when my bride finally breaks away, her pupils blown and chest heaving for air...I"m not the least bit sorry.

She is mine.