Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

ecstasy.
    “Fire,” I gasped, and he complied, his dragon fire sweeping down my flesh as he pulled me forward to catch his cry of completion, my muscles tightening around him in absolute pleasure.
    What seemed like an aeon later, I pushed myself off his chest to give him an unhappy look.
    “Why do you frown at me?” he asked, rolling us over, his leg heavy over mine as he pulled me tight against him. “I just gave you such intense pleasure I thought you might wrench off my cock.”
    “I’m frowning because not only did you break Pavel’s nifty leather handcuffs, but you took over and wouldn’t let me do all the things I had planned to do.”
    To my surprise he grinned as he kissed my forehead. “You were too much for me, mate. I would have spilled my seed if you hadn’t mounted me when you did.”
    “It’s very hard to be disgruntled with someone when they tell you that you’ve given them pleasure,” I said, sighing with happiness as I snuggled into the warmth of his body. “But now we’re going to have to buy two sets of the leather cuffs, one for Pavel, one for us.”
    “Three sets. I shall get a smaller set for you. And perhaps a few other things. I will ask Pavel for recommendations.”
    I smiled, kissing his shoulder, content for the moment to leave the worries of life behind and just revel in the fact that Baltic was in my arms, safe and happy.

Chapter Eight
    “ H eya, Solders. Whatcha doing?”
    I set down my cup of coffee and gawked at Jim as it and Pavel came in from the area that contained the garage. “Gawking. What on earth are you wearing?”
    “Kilt!” Jim did a little twirl so the material spun out. Sure enough, the demon was wearing a kilt and a muscle T-shirt.
    “By the rood, man! Don’t do that before I’ve had my coffee!” I tried to expunge certain images from my brain. “Why are you wearing a kilt?”
    “Pavel took me to buy it in town,” Jim answered, plopping itself down on a chair at the kitchen table and helping itself to a fresh-baked scone. “Ooh, orange cranberry—my favorite. Pavel, my man, got any marmalade to go with it?”
    I looked over Jim’s head to where Pavel was pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Why did you buy Jim a kilt?”
    He shrugged and gave me a half smile. Pavel was dark-haired and dark-eyed like Baltic, but slightly shorter and a bit stockier. He’d been one of Baltic’s elite guards for centuries before they had found me, and although I knew he had some interesting ideas of what constituted sexual fun, he was also profoundly devoted to Baltic and the best cook I knew. We spent many a long hour discussing the finer points of cuisine, much to Baltic’s amusement.
    “The demon said its nuts were being squashed in Baltic’s jeans. It kept wanting to take off the trousers, and I figured its presence was going to go down easier if it didn’t have its dick hanging out.” Pavel gave me a long look. “Do I want to know why the demon is here in the first place? Baltic isn’t going to be happy about it.”
    “Yes, but there’s something else he’s going to be a whole lot less happy about, so Jim’s presence won’t really matter. Besides, it’s just temporary. We can take Jim home when we pick up Brom.” I took a big sip of coffee, feeling it was better to face Baltic caffeinated than otherwise.
    “Oh?” Pavel asked, looking suddenly wary.
    “It’s . . . uh . . . kind of complicated.”
    Jim snorted, its mouth full of scone. “You can say that again.”
    “I was just sitting here waiting for the explosion, as a matter of fact.” I gave both of them a smile.
    Pavel left off looking wary and went straight for worried. “What sort of a—”
    Upstairs, a door slammed, followed immediately by a bellowed, “ Ysolde! ”
    “That would be it,” I said, quickly draining my cup before getting to my feet. The thunder of footsteps stamping down the back stairs warned of Baltic’s imminent arrival.
    “Enter the deranged wyvern Baltic,” Jim muttered, taking another scone.
    Baltic appeared in the doorway, his eyes glittering with an obsidian light, his jaw set with a firmness that boded ill for anyone who crossed his path. He started toward me, pausing when he saw Jim.
    “Hiya, Balters. Like my kilt? Pavel got it for me because the ol’ meat and two veg were gettin’ antsy being stuffed away in your jeans.”
    Baltic turned his gaze to me, and I knew at that moment if he could have shot death rays from his eyes, he would