23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Maeve

I woke up in Taran’s bedroom, surrounded by curved walls made from rough exposed stone. The room would have given me medieval vibes if it hadn’t been for the subtle high-end tech scattered around it.

Where is he?

The deep purple satin sheets felt too real on my skin for all of it to have been only a dream. They were cool and sleek and whispered with every one of my movements .

I got up to have a closer look at the gorgeous paintings hanging at intervals on the walls, not caring for now that I was naked.

You’re alone and Taran seeing you like this might give him ideas on how to fill the time.

It was the weekend. With the grand re-opening about a week away, I had nowhere to be and nothing to do for the next two days. Except for him.

The painting on the far left showed a terrifyingly beautiful Minotaur whose hard stare made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up even though I knew it was just a piece of art.

The one in the middle was of a naked woman lounging on a diwan and a Satyr plying her with grapes, his goat’s legs spread and a pointed bright red cock poking out from the middle of his fur.

Okay.

It was the third painting that drew me out of bed. It somehow looked even more realistic than the other two.

The enormous canvas barely contained a hulking black Dragon rearing on its hind legs and roaring, maw stretched wide.

It stood in stark relief against the full moon behind it, black scales glittering silver in the cold light.

“Wow,” I breathed and stretched out a hand as if to touch it.

“I’m glad you like it,” a quiet voice said from behind me and I spun on the spot.

Taran leaned against the rough stone doorframe, two cups of coffee in his clawed hands.

Nope, this is the most magnificent piece of art here .

He wore a casual shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons undone, exposing his chest covered in scales the same colour as the ones of the dragon in the painting.

“My mother commissioned this piece. Please don’t tell anyone, but it’s my favourite.”

He came over to where I stood rooted to the spot.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked quietly when he was standing right before me, handing me one of the cups.

“I did. What about you?”

He traced the curve of my cheek with one claw. “Like a hatchling.”

Automatically I raised my face to his, drawn in by his beauty and strength, his otherworldly magnificence.

Coffee could wait; kissing him couldn’t.

“Good morning,” he murmured, pressing his shapely lips to mine in a lingering kiss. I was torn between trying to crawl under his skin and tearing his clothes off.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he murmured into the kiss, giving me a slightly rueful grin. “Stuart will be here with our breakfast in a bit.”

“Shit, I should probably get dressed before then.”

“Or you can hide in the bathroom until he’s gone,” Taran suggested.

“And have breakfast naked?” A snort escaped me.

He plucked my cup from my hands and put them both down on a sleek console table. Then he cradled the back of my head in one hand, wrapping the other tightly around my back, his large palm resting on one of my ass cheeks.

“You could sit on my lap and let me feed you,” he whispered as he buried his face in my hair .

“Don’t tempt me, Scales,” I moaned as my nipples rubbed over his chest.

“Oh yes, sweetling. I will forever tempt you.” His tongue darted out to lick the spot where my pulse hammered under my skin. “I will always hunger for you.”

Taran talking of ‘forever’ and ‘always’ should have scared me after we’d spent just this one night together, but somehow I felt the same way about him.

It’s not scary because it’s him.

“Get into the bathroom. He’ll be here in a minute. I’ll come for you when he’s left.” With a light swat on my ass, he sent me into his ensuite and I closed the door behind me.

Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I grinned at my reflection. My skin was glowing and two large love bites bloomed under my collar bone.

Didn’t even realise he gave me these.

Through the door, I heard Taran talk with his butler, heard plates chink and cutlery clatter, but I was more interested in inspecting the room. I’d barely noticed anything last night.

It was fucking massive, about as large as Tiff’s and my room together, with a walk-in shower, a small pool that looked like someone had plucked it from a forest clearing and placed in here, two washbasins, and the toilet behind a discreet wall in a corner.

Maybe we could take a dip in his pool later, but food first. I was starving.

We burned a ton of calories last night .

“Sweetling? He’s gone,” Taran informed me, holding the door open for me and eating me up with his gaze.

He followed me to the table by the glass doors, took a seat, and pulled me into his lap.

“Are you warm enough or do you need a blanket?” He indicated a fluffy plaid on a second chair.

“A blanket sounds great. Then you can grope me under it,” I whispered, gently nibbling his neck.

His hard dick dug into my ass, determined to get to me through his slacks. I managed to raise myself up and straddle his lap, facing him.

“What about food?” he groaned desperately when I wrestled his hard length free and guided him inside me.

“It can wait,” I moaned, sure I wasn’t going to last long with my clit grinding on his bumpy bit. “I can’t.”

“You’re so tight, sweetling. Are you ready to come for me again?”

“Yes,” I gasped, rolling my hips experimentally and cursing under my breath at the stimulation.

Taran planted his feet firmly on the ground, taking hold of a fistful of my hair and using it as a handle to grind my body down on his as he began to fuck me from below.

It took me an embarrassingly short time to come, holding onto his horns for dear life, his nose between my breasts and grinding on him to chase every last morsel of friction he could give me.

A dangerous snarl shook his body when he came inside me, his cum so much warmer than my body temperature.

“Oh fuck, Scales. I think I’m addicted to your bumpy bit and your dick. ”

“Bumpy bit?” he huffed, licking sweat from my skin.

“No idea what it’s called but I love it.”

“Bumpy bit,” he repeated as if to settle the matter. “That’s the anatomically correct term for it. I have an implant, by the way. Got that a few weeks ago. I wanted to be prepared, I guess.”

“God, you’re the cutest. I totally got carried away…by a massive Dragon last night. Sorry, we should have had this conversation before.” I kissed his nose. “I’m tested, healthy, and use an app to track my cycle, but it’s awesome that you got an implant. I appreciate that so much.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. But now, let me feed you, sweetling. And afterward we can have a bath, if you want. Or frolic some more.” He winked at me and lifted me easily off his dick.

Copious amounts of his cum flowed out of me, making me groan and soiling his slacks, but Taran didn’t seem to mind. With a satisfied little grumble much like a cat who’s just found a box to fit its body into, he started cutting a pancake into pieces and plying me with it.

“I could get used to taking my breakfast like this, sweetling,” he told me when we’d polished off the plates.

“Same,” I snorted, snuggling into his broad chest.