Memoirs of a Dragon Hunter Page 14

  He rolled over, looked hard at me, and then pulled me up against his chest. “If I were Sasha, I’d tell you that you need a hug, but I’m not, so I’ll just give you one instead. Let me know when you are sufficiently hugged.”

  Despite all my anxieties, I found myself snuggling into him, breathing in his slightly lemony scent, relishing the warmth of his chest. “Oh, thank you. This is nice. And I don’t like being touched a lot, but this is really enjoyable. Your chest is very—hoo!—and your tattoos are awesome.”

  Ian grimaced. “I appreciate the compliment, but their existence is not something to admire.”

  “Oh really?” I traced a finger over one of the symbols that was branded into his flesh. He stopped me by kissing my fingertip. “Why is that?”

  “They are, for lack of a better explanation, a visual reminder of my bondage.”

  My eyes widened. “You’re in bondage? What does that demon lord make you do? Horrible things to innocent people? Are you a hit man??”

  “No, and before you ask if I torment mortals, the answer to that is also no. For the most part, Anzo uses me to eliminate her competition’s demons, and recently I graduated to being her eyes in the mortal world. She expressed a desire for me to claim various items for her.”

  “Items like what?”

  He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Relics. Artifacts. Historical objects that for some reason she feels the need to possess.”

  “Ah.” I had the sense of him withdrawing emotionally, and wracked my brain for something that would provide comfort. “Is there any way to get rid of your tie to the demon head honcho? I’d be happy to help if there is.”

  Surprise flitted through his eyes, followed by a warm glow of what might have been appreciation. “There is a way to break the bondage, but there is nothing you can do to aid me in that respect. Thank you for the offer.”

  “It’s nothing, although I am very sincere in my offer to help.” I was silent for a moment. “I’m being nosy, aren’t I? I’m sorry about that. It’s just that I always seem to have questions about people, and you’re more interesting than most, so there are lots of things I’d like to know. Plus, it gives us a way to learn about each other. As a teacher, I know the importance of bonding with your student so as to make the learning more effective. Am I asking too many questions?”

  “You are asking a good many, but you are overwrought. And now I’ll answer one for you: demons do not come back once they are dispatched, if you are worried about that. If you break their form, they can return in another one, but dragon hunters are unique: our demon/dragon duality gives us the ability to destroy them permanently. It’s our raison d’être, if you will, although I’ve never heard of one doing it with the demon’s own sword…”

  I sighed a happy sigh and relaxed against him, feeling a drowsy sort of contentment. “We come back, though, right? Dragon hunters?”

  “We can, if the circumstances are right. Did your sister tell you she would return?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah.”

  “What does that ‘Ah’ mean?”

  “It means that she would not tell you that if it wasn’t the case.”

  I had a feeling he was keeping something from me, being selective with what he said, but I couldn’t figure out a way to ask him without blurting out an accusation. “Oh. I don’t want to have sex, Ian. Well, to be honest, I do, but I’m not going to. Do you want to hear my reasons why?”

  “Of course. I wait with bated breath for your reasons.”

  I settled in against him, one distant part of my mind marveling that I felt so comfortable with him. Normally, it took me months to get to this point with a romantic partner, but Ian was different. He was…Ian. I took his hand and ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “First of all, I’m not the sort of woman who jumps into bed with the first handsome, tattooed dragon she meets. Second, I don’t like to be touched.”

  “I can see that you don’t,” he said, grunting a little when I pushed him backward a smidgen and pulled his other arm out from underneath him so that it could go around me.

  “Third, I don’t play games, and you do.”

  “In what way?”

  I tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn, and pressed myself tighter against his chest, tucking my head under his chin. “By telling the deceased Falafel that I was your girlfriend. You sure do know how to kiss, though.”

  “Thank you.” Amusement filled his voice, something that made me feel wonderfully warm, almost as warm as the sensation of his arms around me.

  “But mostly,” I said in between a series of yawns, “I’m not going to have sex with you because if I do, you’ll leave, and then I’ll be heartbroken.”

  “You have a lovely opinion of me,” he said drily. “Why do you think I’d leave?”

  “Because other than one boyfriend who had a lot of psychological problems, all of my hookups have bailed after a night or two of rolling in the sheets. Either I’m really bad at sex, or I make men nervous.” I pushed myself back from his chest and peered down at him. “I have issues, you know.”

  “I know,” he said gravely. “But since I have my own issues, yours don’t particularly horrify me. Do you want me to make love to you?”

  “Yes,” I said, wiggling my legs against his. “But I’m not going to.”

  “Because you don’t like to be touched?” he asked.

  “Because it would ruin us working together.” I snuggled back into his chest, sighing in relief. “Maybe someday, but not now. I have far too much to learn from you.”

  He may have replied, but I didn’t hear it. I drifted off to sleep happy and content that I had made a decision, a wise decision, one that my adult self approved of.

  That contentment lasted all of three hours, until I woke up lying on top of Ian, my borrowed tank top having ridden up so that my bare stomach was plastered all over his. My legs were caught between his thighs, and worst of all, I could feel the heat of his groin against mine.

  It made my intimate parts do wondrously tingly things, sensations I hadn’t felt in a long time. I took a deep breath in preparation for peeling myself off Ian, but his low groan had me freezing. “Are you okay?” I asked in a whisper, not wanting to wake him up if he was dreaming.

  “Not in the least bit. Stop wiggling against me in that seductive manner.”

  “I’m not wiggling anything.”

  His hands clamped down over my hips, making my little “trying to scoot off of him” movements obvious. “You’re trying to drive me insane. Don’t deny you are—for the last twenty minutes, you’ve tormented me every way possible, clearly trying to push me past what’s bearable. Admit it, admit that you are trying to drive me mad with desire.”

  “I was asleep.” I peeled myself off his stomach and sat up, pulling my legs out from between his and sitting astride his thighs. “I’m sorry if I was tormenting you in my sleep, but I didn’t intend anything. Hoo boy. Sitting like this did not help things, huh?”

  I looked down to where a very obvious bulge in his pants was pressed up against the thin material of my sleeping shorts.

  He made a choked noise that didn’t contain any actual words.

  “You’re really…wow. Do you mind if I touch?”

  “Why not?” he managed to get out, a touch of hysteria about the words. “It seems entirely reasonable given that you’ve been sleeping on me for the last hour, torturing me with your soft belly, and your breasts, and the way you breathed on me. Why not touch my dick? Would you like me to get it out for you so that you can really torture me?”

  “I have no intention of doing anything so heinous.” I gently stroked the bulge. It grew bulgier. “It’s just that…hoo…that’s seriously impressive. I’d ask to see it, but that’s probably going too far, huh?”

  “Veronica.”

  I gave it a gentle squeeze and enjoyed the way he sucked in half the air in the room. “Hmm?”

  “Do you want to have sex?”

  “I don’t w
ant to ruin our relationship,” I said, wishing I could just peel off his pants and have at it. I wondered if his offer to do just that was meant in earnest, or if he was being sarcastic. In my sleep-muddled state, I couldn’t tell. “It means a lot to me that you’re teaching me.”

  “It’s your decision,” he said, his voice as rough as rocks grinding together. “But I’m willing if you are.”

  I gave him another friendly squeeze. “Will you promise that it won’t affect my training?”

  “I promise.” His hips twitched underneath me.

  “Well…I shouldn’t. The sensible me recognizes that. But the impulsive me that I’ve been trying to cultivate, because my therapist says it’s good for me to be spontaneous, says what the hell, let’s grab the bull by the balls and go for the gold. Or some such metaphor. So if you’re sure you’re good, then I am, too.”

  “I know you haven’t had too much to drink, but are you always this uninhibited in the middle of the night?” he asked when I reached for the waistband of his pants, his hands on mine keeping me from yanking the pants right off of him.

  For a moment, I thought he had changed his mind, but then realized he was making sure I was aware of the choice I was making. “I’m sleepy and my mouth says things before my brain approves, but I know what I’m doing, yes. Although I suppose I should be worried about my sword injury.”

  “What sword injury?”

  “The one the demon— Oh. It’s gone.” I twisted around to see the spot where Falafel had stabbed me, but the injury had healed. As if by magic! the dramatic part of my mind said, all but adding a drumroll after that sentence to emphasize it. I told my inner drama queen to chill, and since my side was no longer an issue, returned to what was important. “Do you happen to have any condoms? I don’t, and I’m not really comfortable going at this without some form of protection for diseases. My IUD will take care of the rest.”

  “I do have some, but I mentioned that dragon hunters are immortal. We don’t catch mortal diseases.”

  “Yeah, but…” I made a vague gesture, unable to put into words the discomforting thought of sex without a layer of latex between us.

  He didn’t answer, but rolled over to dig around in nightstand drawer, emerging with a strip of condoms.

  “Oh, good,” I said, relieved. “Now I can really go to town on you without worrying.”

  “I don’t know whether to be offended that a condom would make such a difference, or intrigued by what your idea of going to town is. I think I’ll go with the latter.”

  “Good choice.”

  I was at the waistband of his pants before the sane part of my mind could ask me what I thought I was doing. I ignored it when it pointed out all the reasons I’d given a few hours before, ignored common sense, ignored even the anxious animal who warned that I knew little about Ian, and that for all I knew, he could have bizarre sexual fetishes. None of that raised a concern in my sleep-muddled, lust-filled state. All that mattered was the man lying beneath me, and my own needs, which were fast overwhelming my mind.

  With his help, we got him out of his pants, and me out of my shorts and tank top, leaving me just in my undies.

  “So much to play with,” I murmured, taking my spot back on his thighs, my hands immediately taking possession of his balls and penis. “It’s amazing how soft and hard this can be at the same time. And you’re uncircumcised.”

  “I am. Is that a problem?” His voice was very breathy, as if he was inhaling on every word.

  “No. Luckily for us both, my somewhat sociopathic ex was also uncut, and he taught me what to do with the extra bit.”

  His hips bucked upward as I let my fingers run wild on the scenery, stroking the soft squishiness of his balls before moving up to slide skin around on his decidedly not-soft penis. “Veronica, would you mind if we didn’t talk about your ex’s dick right now?”

  “Sure,” I said, looking up with concern. His voice sounded tight and a bit higher than normal. “Is something wrong? You look like you’re having another painful gas bubble.”

  “I didn’t have one the first time you said that,” he said, giving a little laugh before grabbing the sheets beneath him with both hands and moaning. “Christos, woman, if you keep doing that, you won’t have to worry about a condom.”

  “Oh, should I stop?” I released his genitalia, giving them a gentle pat of approval. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be grabby.”

  “I wouldn’t mind taking my turn,” he said, pulling me up along his body, so that my entire front side was pressed up against him. He nuzzled the tops of my breasts with cheeks that were stubbly enough to send shivers down my back. “Do I have your permission to explore your body as you’ve explored mine?”

  “I didn’t really explore. All I did was play with your naughty bits,” I said, arching my back when he slid his hands between us and caressed my breasts, his thumbs rubbing on my nipples. Another shiver went down my back at the sensation, and I thought to myself how different touches could be. Where my former lover was prone to just grabbing my breasts and squeezing them (until the day I did the same with his testicles), Ian’s touch was gentle, teasing me with heat that stirred up an inferno within me.

  “I’d like equal time, if that wouldn’t upset you,” he said, rolling us over so that he was on top. His mouth followed his hands along my breasts, making me moan and writhe with delight.

  “You can do anything you want,” I said in between gasps. He moved his kisses to the valley between my breasts, his hands drawing intricate designs on my belly and hips as he shifted downward. “Except oral sex.”

  He looked up at that, his face level with my belly button. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m very much so.” I twined my fingers through his hair, reveling in the smooth coolness of it. His hair felt like a cross between silk and water, sliding over my fingers in a way that made me restless.

  “Why?”

  I tightened my fingers on his hair, giving his head a little shake. “Are you kidding? There are so many reasons why it’s just a no!”

  “Name them,” he said with an obnoxious amount of patience in his voice.

  “Sure. One, it’s just ew! I mean, ew! Two, I don’t wax. I am au naturel, and as any fashion blog will tell you, men do not like women with the full complement of pubic hair.”

  He looked down at my pubic bone. “I don’t mind it at all. To be honest, I think it looks silly when women carve little strips into it. Next objection?”

  “It’s ew!”

  “That was number one, and I don’t see anything ew about your vulva.” He pulled back enough to prod around in the area in question. “Everything looks perfectly normal to me.”

  “Ack!” I said, letting go of his hair to flail my arms about. “Stop looking at it!”

  “We’re going to have difficulty engaging in sex if you don’t want me to have anything to do with your vagina,” he said, sliding a hand up my leg and kissing a path up the inner thigh. “I hope you don’t prefer alternate entrances, because that doesn’t interest me much.”

  “Oh, good goddess, no!” I shuddered at the very idea. “And I don’t mind sex, normal sex, it’s just the idea of you putting your face in there…bleh!”

  “Right,” he said, kissing the other leg’s inner thigh so it wouldn’t be jealous. “Then we’ll just do this the standard way, shall we?”

  “Please. Also, do you mind if I don’t oral you? Because that’s…” I grimaced and indulged in some vague hand waving.

  “Ew?” he asked.

  “So very,” I agreed.

  “I will never ask you to do something you don’t wish to do,” he said, kissing a line across my belly and carefully nipping my hip. “Somehow, I am guessing you want to be on top.”

  “If you don’t mind,” I said. “Honestly, Ian, I feel like I should apologize to you for all my weird hang-ups. If you don’t want to do this after all, I’ll understand.”

  “Don’t be silly. You aren’t weird, just
, I suspect, inexperienced. And perhaps the recipient of less than stellar lovemaking in the past. No, do not tell me what your almost-sociopath boyfriend used to do—this is our time. You do what makes you comfortable.”

  He rolled off me and spread his arms, inviting me to frolic on the playland that was his delicious body.

  “Be sure to tell me if I do anything you don’t like. Er…should we get you dressed up?” I hesitated when I sat back on his thighs, eyeing his crotch.

  “You had your hands all over me before. Is something wrong now?” he asked, handing me the package of condoms.

  “No, I don’t mind touching you, but I don’t want to get all caught up in the proceedings, and then, you know, one thing would lead to another, and boom, you’d be all up inside me without anything between our naughty parts.”

  “You keep saying that phrase,” he mused, watching while I slid the condom down onto him, giving his penis another encouraging pat when I was finished. “Do you find genitals naughty?”

  I fondled his balls again, gently, ever so gently scraping my fingernails up his inner thighs and across the balls themselves. “Do you really want to get into psychotherapy now? Because I was thinking about bone jumping.”

  He waved his hand toward his penis. “Be my guest. I am suitably clad, and awaiting your actions.”

  I shifted forward until my knees were around his hips, positioned him, and sank down. The sensation of him parting my heated (and very welcoming) inner parts was enough to make my breath hitch in my chest. “Hoo. You are really…there…aren’t you?”

  “Very much so,” he agreed.

  I enjoyed the sensation of him being so firmly inside me, when it struck me that something was missing. I stopped focusing on my inner self and looked up worriedly. He was lying passive, his hands resting on my thighs, but there were no flames in his eyes, no sense of the heat that I’d experienced a short while ago. “Hey,” I said, moving upward to dislodge him. “The first time is supposed to be super-hot. Exciting. Breathless. Why are you none of those things?”