Fire in Her Dreams – Fireblood Dragons Read Online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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One eye flicks open, and he studies me.

Aha. "So you're faking," I tease in my best seductive voice. I feel a little silly, but at least I'm getting results. I slink forward, regarding him. He's got multiple eyelids, it seems, and I watch as one lowers over his eye, but not all of them. Is he watching me more than he wants to let on, then? Interesting. "Maybe you're in there after all. Deep, deep inside."

The dragon doesn't move a muscle. He's completely still, and I get the impression he's watching me to see what I'm going to do.

I'm actually not entirely sure what I'm going to do. I'm winging it, and hoping that I'll stumble into some success. Look for the gold in his eyes, Rachel had advised me. She'd told me about the bite, too. That Mhal has to bite me and pour venom into my veins so my scent changes and so I'm fully bonded to him. That after that, we'll have a mental link that overrides everything, even Azar's mind control. I'm a little worried about the whole “venom” thing, but Rachel looks fine, so I hope it'll all turn out okay.

I'm not exactly flush with alternatives.

I move up to Mhal's side and whisper his name. Nothing. Not even a twitch. I put my hands on his scales, rubbing them and petting like I would a horse, and I feel a little…foolish. How is this going to get his engine revving when it's not doing anything for me? I'm supposed to somehow arouse him, but treating him like an animal isn't exactly filling me with lust. I run my hands over his scales as I think, scratching and petting. It's like petting rock—there's no give to his scales, and no indication from the dragon that I'm there. After a few minutes of this, I give up.

Rachel said if it didn't work, to shove his head between my thighs and let him breathe in my sent. I squirm at the thought, as it seems more than a little awkward. I'm tempted to run for the doors to see if he'll react if I try to escape…except I tried that before, and Mhal didn't move. And it's not like I can escape anyhow. They're chained on the other side.

I wish I had a pair of panties to use, since dragons seem to love them so much.

I pause. Of course.

I glance over at Mhal, who I suspect is watching me and pretending that he isn't. If he's scent-driven, I need to give him my scent. If I want to turn him on, maybe I need to be turned on, too, and grinding against a dragon's nose isn't going to do it for me.

I'll have to take matters into my own hands. Literally.

I make a nervous sound in my throat, shaking my hands out. "Okay. Okay. I'm totally doing this. I can do this. I can. It's just performance art for someone I like very much." I glance over at the dragon. "Someone hidden deep, deep deeeeeep down inside."

It's something I've only ever done in private, and never as often as I'd like. My dad was always at my side for the last seven years, protecting me, which made touching myself impossible. Now that he's gone, I've been living in the barracks with the other women, which also makes it difficult to get a moment alone. Touching myself has always felt like a secret, forbidden sort of pleasure even though it's featured in all the dirty books that Manda loves to read over and over again.

I suddenly wish I'd spent less time sewing and more time reading.

Okay. Enough stalling. I take a deep breath, glance over at the motionless dragon, and then pick my blanket up again. I spread it out on the floor nicely, then sit down on it. I take another deep breath, steeling myself, and then lie back, my knees bent.

I mean, it's not really a performance if the dragon isn't paying attention, right? In essence, I'm here by myself. At least, that's what I tell myself to get through things. I remain where I am for a few moments, doing some calming breathing, and then slide my hand down my bare belly.

It feels…decadent. Forbidden. Maybe it's that forbidden aspect that makes it so appealing, but my pulse quickens and I stroke my skin again. And again. I move my hand downward, the other caressing my breasts. I take my time, stroking my skin and trying to enjoy myself. I also absolutely do not look over at Mhal to see if he's paying attention. If he does, great. If not, I should at least get an orgasm out of things before they kick me out of the fort.

My hand moves to my pussy and I slide my finger deeper into my channel, searching for my clit. The moment I brush over it, the sensation is so intense that I gasp and my legs curl up, my body tensing. Oh, fuck. I wasn't expecting it to be that strong, but I must be worked up with all the tension of my situation. With a little whimper, I stroke my finger against the side of my clit again, trying to repeat the intense sensation.


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