The Vampire Queen's Dragon Lord

Chapter 12

Declan knew this was insane. Knew this place had to be messing with his head. The minute he saw her enter the dungeon alone, he'd decided to say whatever he could to gain an ally in this hell. Knew it might be the only chance he had of ever seeing his flock again. He kept trying to tell himself this was all an act. That she'd created the collar around his neck. That she was the reason his parents had been murdered. That she was a means to an end.

Yet as his mouth slid against hers, he knew some part of his brain had completely abandoned his plan, which was crazy. He was going crazy. That had to be the reason he'd looked into her expressive eyes and seen driving need instead of the monster he'd been bred to see. Why he'd reached out and given the little vampire in front of him any measure of comfort he could, even though he was the one beaten and bloody.

On the outside.

Declan's hold on her face tightened as the thought whispered through his mind. As his lips opened and closed over hers, he realized that was what had spoken to him, reached inside and pulled him to her. She was more broken and beaten and, if possible, in more danger than he. True, he'd first touched her for the sole purpose of feeding off her to get his strength back and escape. Yet, ever since that dream, a frightening sense of possessiveness had strangled him like an ever-tightening noose. He'd lived through her fear, her suffering, and wanted to shield her from experiencing anymore.

Beneath his, her sweet mouth softened and moved, tentative yet eager. Although obviously not skilled or experienced, her kiss completely enthralled him and held him captive. Nothing, not even a pistol to his head, could have made him move. To think of one so beautiful left to wither and rot in this horrible place made his chest burn. An anguished sound rumbled from the back of his throat and he palmed the side of her face, smoothing her hair back and holding her closer, tighter, as he allowed his tongue to sweep between her lips.

Anastasia felt the passionate change in his embrace and gave herself over to his kiss. Parting her lips for him, she wound her arm around his neck and held on to him for dear life, trusting him to guide her through the burgeoning storm of unknown rising between them. Declan groaned and bound his shackled arm around her waist, pressing her body tighter against his. Hard metal cuffs dug into her back, but she didn't care. The heat of his mouth, the hungered urgency of his tongue, the fire burning within him, drew her in and kept her there. She felt warm and alive, as if she'd been dead, and his kiss, his touch, brought her into being. The urge to crawl inside him clawed at her, to have his energy, his warmth, feed her until she never felt cold or lonely again.

Something tickled her ankle. Anastasia ignored it at first. However, when what felt like a large snake wound around her thigh, she gasped and pulled back. Coiled loosely around her leg was a long, black....tail? Was that his tail? She lifted questioning eyes to his face. A boyish grin crossed his face and his eyes flitted back down her leg. This time, when it slid high along her inner thigh, she jumped. "What are you doing?"

Clasping his hands around her hips, he pulled her back to him and shrugged. "Think of it as another hand." When his mouth would have covered her, she leaned back. Her eyes stretched wide.

"Really? You mean it....you can feel me...from there?"

He smiled and sat back. A resigning sigh fell from his lips as he rested his weight on his hands on his hips. "Go ahead."

At first, Anastasia wasn't sure what he meant. Then he nodded to her leg and she understood he meant for her to touch his tail. Realized he was giving her permission to explore him. A lick of desire curled through her. Tentatively, she ran a palm over the thick-muscled extension. She'd only seen them used as a weapon and assumed they were little more than armor. Yet the tightly scaled skin felt cool and smooth beneath her fingers. And powerful. So powerful. A shiver danced up her spine as the tail reacted to her touch. The diamond-shaped head appeared almost animal-like, leaning into her palm as she caressed it. A dull tremor rolled along the length of it before the end retracted and shifted. Unwinding itself from her leg, the slender tip slid upward, curling around her wrist.

Anastasia let out a quick gasp as the tail tugged sharply, dragging her into Declan's waiting arms. The moment her cheek fell against his shoulder, he dipped his head, fitting his mouth over hers. Reckless and feral, his mouth caressed and tasted her. When his tongue ran against hers, slick and hungry, Anastasia moaned and clutched his jaw, holding him closer. She knew this was wrong, so wrong, but she couldn't stop. Her hands caressed the planes of his cheeks and jaw as his tongue stroked hers again and again until she was dizzy. Until an ache coiled tight and hard inside her belly, begging for release she knew only he could grant.

The chains jangled as the hand splayed on her side inched higher. Anastasia's breath hitched in anticipation, and then, warm and strong, the heat of his palm covered her corseted breast. The swath of leather did nothing to shield her from the all-consuming intimacy of his touch. A shiver of pleasure shot out in all directions, tingling through every par of her body. Anastasia arched into his hand, pressing herself deeper into his embrace and inviting him to do more.

"Gods, Anastasia," he breathed, dragging his mouth from hers. When he moved to pull away, she reached for him, drawing him back to her lips. He submitted with a groan, crushing his mouth against hers. One arm wrapped around her, holding her to him. The other fell back to her breast, handling her with more wild and intense abandon than before. Her hands clutched his bare back. Hot and hard, she glided her palms over every inch, learning every contour, every hollow, dip and scar.

Scar.

The realization hit her then. They were both scarred, physically and emotionally, from this war. The goddess knew some part of her mind must be cracked and ruined to even be thinking about the lascivious thoughts racing through her mind. But she'd never felt such a heady rush of desire in all her days. Though madness to even entertain, some part of her recognized that this act her body yearned for so badly would heal her in some way. Perhaps heal them both. Make the utterly unbearable existence of life tolerable.

Anastasia shifted away from the wall and leaned backward. Wrapping her fingers around his biceps, she tugged, dragging him down with her. His lips stilled, and a shiver swept through his body. But he gave in, allowing his weight to cover her. The taut line of his body pressed against hers and at once she remembered how right, how wonderful he felt above her. Hitching a leg over his naked butt, she dug her heel into one round cheek, pulling him closer. When his abdomen flattened against hers, he hissed in a breath. His mouth left hers, his head dipping to his chest.

Although stunned at first, she recalled with aching clarity the agony Luthur had inflicted on him earlier. "Oh, your wounds," she said with an exhalation. Unwinding her leg, she moved to sit. However, her back barely made it off the ground before he pressed his lips against hers, stilling her hasty move.

"I'm fine," he said, with a sideways grin she barely saw before her eyes fluttered shut from bliss. A large hand possessively ate the width of her thigh, pulling it back in place around his hip. Declan bent over her, nudging her head with his until it rested back on the dirt floor. On instinct, a hand came up, cradling the back of her head, shielding its blond luster from the muck of the dungeon floor. The rough stones bit into his knuckles, grating the top layer of skin with each slide of his mouth. But he barely felt a thing. In fact, pain was the last thing registering in his body. All his brain seemed capable of processing was the rush of erotic sensations throbbing through him.

Her small hands gripped the base of his neck, pulling him closer as her body undulated in an erotic black-leather wave beneath him. Declan propped one knee between her thighs, using it and his bent arm to hold himself above her. The muscles in his arms bulged and shook with the effort it took to keep from rolling on top of her completely and connecting them from tip to toe. Slowly, as if time was something he had more than mere hours of his disposal, his lips trialed from her chin, across her collarbone and back again, savoring every intense reaction flicking through him with each new perusal of her velvety skin. How her warm body cushioned his with aching perfection. The sweet yet spicy perfume of her skin filled his nose and brought flashes of desire and warmth pulsing through his sore body.

With eyes closed, his acute senses easily identified his scent on her. The silent and potent brand of ownership lingering around her excited him on some primal level he never knew existed. Intrigued, he followed the lingering trace to the bite mark still healing on her neck. A shiver moved through her when his lips and then his tongue brushed it. Declan paused only for a moment to consider if she trembled at the memory of his bite or at the thought of him doing it again, before tasting his way back up to her lips. If he allowed himself to go there, he'd be at her throat, her vein, once more. Gods knew his body needed it. But as mad and lost as he may be, some part of him knew that if he ever wanted to be free of this place, from her, he could not afford to go there again. She was already under his skin after one sample. He wasn't sure if he'd survive another.

By the time his lips sealed over hers, a hand clutched his shoulder, holding him in place and pulling him closer at the same time. One of her thighs lifted higher on his hip, the cool leather sweeping across his heated flesh and sending a shiver up his spine. With that, he finally let himself sink his weight into her and a groan vibrated over his entire body as he nestled against her. Anastasia heard Declan groan, felt the vibration of his entire body and, for the first time, the prospect of what came next sent only white-hot need through her veins instead of icy fear.

Suddenly, the insistent beat of approaching footsteps sounded down the hall. Anastasia frowned. Footsteps meant sundown, which meant.....

"Guards!" she hushed, pushing hard on his chest. A pained moan tore from him when her hand grazed his injury. Yet he still managed to haul himself upright and take her with him seconds before Ivan walked through the door. Anastasia ran a hand through her tousled hair and tried to calm her raging breathing. The soldier's sunglasses-shielded gaze panned the room, instantly settling on them. Their thighs, just brushing one another, their shoulders, turned decidedly inward, and then their faces, no doubt a study in guilt. Anastasia sucked in a breath and scooted away from Declan's side. Flustered, she flexed the hand covering her dagger. Placing it in the holster at her lower back, she shoved off the floor. Brushing off her pants, she did not dare hazard a glance back down at Declan.

Declan.

His name repeated in her mind, causing an unwitting smile to tweak her lips. She knew his name now, knew his scent, his taste. Unconsciously, she lifted her fingertips to her mouth. Her lips burned with the searing memory of his kisses. Anastasia didn't have to look to know he was wearing a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. That he looked too sexy by half, even covered in dried blood and filth.

"What were you doing?" Ivan asked as he looked from the cell to her face.

"Interrogating him, what do you think?"

A dark eyebrow lifted over the frame of his glasses. "Well, you're wanted above ground," he said, before turning to retrieve whatever he'd been sent down there for in the first place.

"Above ground?"

"Yes."

He lifted two crossbows on his shoulder. "There is something going on out there you need to see."