Dark Heart of the Dragon Read online

  Beautiful.

  He wanted to find out more.

  Suddenly, he wanted to stay on the island.

  Suddenly, he wanted to watch.

  Suddenly, she came undone.

  The woman came hard, crying out, falling back on the stage. She moaned and writhed and it was all Dean could do to hold back his own orgasm. He shouldn’t come here. He shouldn’t come on the floor. He shouldn’t come in the dungeon.

  He shouldn’t.

  But he did.

  He thought of the woman with the beautiful hair, with the sweet smile, with the tender face. He thought of the woman and her magical moves, of the way she had entranced him without speaking a single word to him.

  He thought of this, and he came, and then she spoke again.

  This time, it was to him.

  “First time in the club, big boy?” She said. “The mops are over there.” She was pointing to a corner closet and suddenly, Dean noticed she was staring right at him.

  Only, she no longer looked aroused.

  And she definitely didn’t look happy to see him.

  Fuck.

  3

  Renee wasn’t sure why she hadn’t called him out sooner. She’d known the moment the man had entered the room. She could hear his heart beating from across the room, even over the music. Nervous little guy, wasn’t he?

  Only he wasn’t little.

  She saw that when she finally looked at him.

  Cock in hand, he looked like he’d gotten caught sneaking treats from the cookie jar, but he hadn’t been sneaking desserts. He’d been caught jerking off to her movements on stage, and she had loved it. She had loved every second of it, but that was wrong.

  The whole thing was wrong, but she had been beyond caring. She had been too aroused to stop, too excited to slow down, and then she had come. She’d come harder than she’d come in forever.

  Was it because she’d come for him?

  Oh, he hadn’t spoken to her. He’d obviously been trying to stay quiet and unnoticed, but she’d come for him just the same. She’d felt his eyes following her body as she danced. She’d felt his gaze on her.

  It hadn’t made her feel gross or disgusting. Usually, if someone was leering from the shadows, it was because they were a pervert, but she didn’t think this guy was. She thought he was something else entirely and she planned to find out.

  His eyes had popped open when she yelled at him. Good. She felt justified. She felt like he deserved to be a little surprised. Hiding in the darkness? What kind of a Dom was he, anyway?

  Oh, yes. He was a Dom.

  That much was obvious.

  He stepped from the shadows. His cock was still out and he had come in his hand. There was some on the floor, too. He really had gone all out making a mess, hadn’t he? Silly man. That’s what he was: silly. She tried to focus on the word, tried to make it fit him because deep down, Renee realized she was stepping into something that was way over her head.

  He wasn’t silly.

  He was incredible.

  “Pardon me,” he said, and wasn’t that polite? “I’m Dean.”

  “Are you introducing yourself to me while you’re covered in splooge?” She was incredulous.

  “I suppose I am.”

  “Renee,” she answered. “Mops are there,” she pointed to the closet again and turned, looking away from the man. Dean. His name was Dean. He was tall and he had short, dark hair. He was the opposite of her in nearly every way, she thought, so why was she so intrigued by him?

  He was a dragon, to be sure. He was a shifter, like her, but he wasn’t from the island. She would know if he was. She knew all of the dragons. She at least knew all the Doms and Dommes and submissives who were players at the club. That was part of her role, after all.

  She had to learn who she was playing with, learn their interests, learn what made them tick and what made them come. It was all part of the fun of playing at a sex club.

  Renee focused on turning off the music and cleaning up her whiskey glass. She walked to the bar, suddenly very aware that she was naked. It hadn’t seemed so bad up on stage. She had been performing. She had been in the moment.

  Now, as she made her way across the very quiet club, she felt cold and a little embarrassed. She shouldn’t be shy about her body. Dragons rarely were, but she couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious about the way she looked.

  She was small for a dragonwoman. Most of her peers were tall and lanky. They were lean and muscular and tan, but she wasn’t. Renee was different. She was petite and small. Pale. She was all wrong for a dragon and usually that didn’t matter, but today-

  “Are you all right?” Dean’s voice broke into her thoughts and she dropped the whiskey glass. It shattered loudly and before Renee knew what was happening, Dean had her in his arms. Swiftly, he moved her away from the glass and set her on top of the bar. She felt like a toy or a precious doll.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered. “Thanks for saving my feet.”

  “Anytime. Sit tight and I’ll get this cleaned up.”

  She knew better than to argue with a Dom. She knew better than to insist she’d take care of everything herself. Oh, she was every bit the Dominatrix when she was playing, but in real life, sometimes Renee wanted to be taken care of, too.

  Dean was quick and efficient. He cleaned up the glass and returned the broom and the mop to the closet.

  “All better,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “What are you doing here?” She blurted the words out, quite conscious of the way he was looking at her. He was dressed and she was naked: a situation usually reserved for submissives and their masters. This wasn’t how Renee usually handled herself in the club. She thought she was alone, so she had let her guard down. Now she felt off-kilter, somehow. She felt a little uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt.

  Dean, however, did not appear to be uncomfortable. He had tucked his cock away, to Renee’s slight disappointment, and his shirt was tight across his abs. He was fit, even for a dragon. She liked that, liked the way he looked. Usually, she dated women. They were small and soft like her, but Dean was all muscle. She kind of liked that, even just a little.

  “I’m going to teach classes for Master Anthony.”

  “Is that right?” She raised an eyebrow. “What sort of classes?” She hadn’t heard anything. There were occasionally conferences and classes at the club, but she hadn’t seen anything on the schedule for awhile, and Anthony hadn’t asked her to assist. That was a bit odd. Renee always volunteered for that sort of thing.

  “Don’t be upset,” he said.

  “I’m not.”

  “You smell upset.”

  “Are you scenting me?”

  “A little.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’s weird,” she said, whispering the word.

  “I think you like it, at least a little.”

  “No,” Renee insisted. “I don’t like big, scary dragons…scenting…me.”

  At that, Dean chuckled loudly, and he stepped behind the bar. He grabbed a glass and poured himself whiskey, then made Renee another.

  “To new adventures,” he said, and she smiled. She could drink to that.

  “To new adventures,” she raised her glass and drank. It was her second, and it was a generous portion, and she began to feel a little bit tipsy. She shouldn’t fly back. Dragons usually processed alcohol pretty quickly. It took more than a drink or two to get them buzzed, but she hadn’t eaten all day, and she was tired, and maybe she’d had more than she thought.

  “How long have you been playing at The Dungeon?” It wasn’t a particularly clever name for a club. Anthony should change it. He should call it The Spanking Room or The Naughty Palace or something else.

  The Dungeon sounded scary.

  Intimidating.

  Dark.

  While it was all of those things, tha
t wasn’t why most of the dragons came to play. No, most of them came to explore, to relax, to have fun. They had dark desires. Who didn’t? But they weren’t bad people. They didn’t want to come and torture unwilling victims: they wanted to play with their beloved partners.

  “A few years,” Renee told Dean. “I came with my girlfriend at the time. Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a bit of a switch, and I’d never Dommed before.”

  “A switch, huh?” Dean didn’t look surprised.

  “You pegged me for that,” she said.

  “I thought you might be, but it’s always dangerous to make assumptions.”

  “I don’t tell people,” she said.

  “Why’s that? Afraid they’ll lose respect for you as a Dominant?”

  “I am. A little.”

  “Just a little?”

  “I’m also embarrassed about it,” Renee said. She wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth, but the whiskey was loosening her tongue. She never opened up to people like this. Not really. Not usually. Hell, not ever.

  “Why are you embarrassed, cupcake?” She was sitting on the bar with her legs criss-crossed in front of her, and Dean was to her side. She turned and let her legs down so they were on either side of his, but she didn’t say anything. She just held her glass.

  Why was she embarrassed to admit she liked submission as much as she liked domination?

  How could she explain it?

  Renee liked to dominate women but submit to men. It was weird, she thought, and she didn’t think much was weird. Most people had one desire when it came to power plays in sexuality. Most people knew with certainty they were submissive. She didn’t. She liked both. She had both needs, and that scared her, made her uncomfortable.

  She knew why she thought it was weird, though.

  Crystal.

  It always came back to Crystal.

  “I had a girlfriend,” she said. Once again, the honesty was flowing. “We came to the club together, played together, had fun together. I topped and I think I did a pretty good job. I wasn’t perfect, but then, you know, newbies never are.”

  “Of course not. There’s a learning curve.” He rested his hands on her thighs and she didn’t push them away. She liked the way he touched her, liked the way his palms felt on her skin.

  “We were serious. We lived together, only slept with each other. You know the drill.”

  “I do.”

  “But then someone asked me to sub for him, and I wanted to. I thought if I talked to her about it, things would be okay. I thought she’d understand I had this need, this desire to explore another side of me.”

  “But she didn’t think it was okay.”

  “No,” Renee tried not to let her tears loose. Why was she telling this sad-ass story to Dean? She never told anyone the real reason her relationship had failed.

  “What happened, little one?” Dean placed his hand on her cheek, and she felt the wetness from her tears.

  “She called me a freak. Said I was a bad Domme. She said she couldn’t be with someone who was so weak they needed to submit to another person. Even though she was my sub, she hated it, I think. Maybe I was a bad Domme. Maybe I just didn’t see the signs that she wasn’t happy, but she left me and she left the lifestyle. The last I heard, she was dating a human, but we haven’t kept in touch.”

  “That sounds really painful.”

  “Yeah. Pathetic, really.”

  “It’s not pathetic to ask for what you need. If you’re going to be in a relationship with someone, you need to be willing to be upfront with the other person. Sometimes that means you aren’t monogamous. Sometimes it means you play with other partners. That’s all right, sweetie. It’s all right.”

  He wrapped his arms around Renee and she felt safe. She felt so safe. He was a stranger to her, yet the connection between them was undeniable. It had been a very long time since Renee felt safe with another person.

  She liked the way it felt.

  She cried for a few minutes and Dean just held her and pet her hair. He let her finish, then he kissed her forehead and took away her whiskey glass. She watched as he took the glasses to the sink and washed them, then placed them to the side to dry.

  “I think it’s time to go home,” he said.

  “I can’t fly,” she whispered. “I drank too much.”

  “You let me worry about that, little one.”

  He guided her from the basement, from the dungeon that smelled of leather and sex and fun, and he took her upstairs. Once they were outside of the mansion, Renee found herself staring at the stars. She couldn’t quite look away.

  Long ago, after her relationship had ended, she used to look at the stars and wonder if Crystal was thinking of her at night. Soon she realized it was stupid, that this sort of thing only happened in fairytales and bad romance movies. Of course Crystal wasn’t thinking about her, wasn’t wasting any time pretending to focus on the memories they’d made together.

  “Renee?”

  “Yes?” She looked at Dean. He was peeling his clothes off and folding them neatly. She tried not to stare at his cock. She couldn’t help it. It was long, thick. She wanted to reach out and wrap her hand around it. Touch it. She wanted to touch it, wanted to touch him.

  “Have you ridden a dragon before?”

  “Of course I’ve-“

  But then she blushed, because she realized he meant had she ridden a dragon. He didn’t mean had she ridden a dragonman.

  “What was that?” Dean set the clothes in the basket that sat by the mansion’s front door. There were a variety of outfits available in the basket for anyone who flew here in dragon form, but who needed something to wear once they reached the club and shifted back into their human body.

  Then he walked to her.

  Dean stood in front of her. He was so close she could reach her hand out and grab his cock if she wanted to.

  And oh, she wanted to.

  She shouldn’t want it. It was wrong.

  She reached.

  She slipped her hand around his length and held him.

  “What are you doing, princess?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She squeezed, rubbing her hand up and down his dick. He was hard. Thick. He hissed and she knew he was aroused. Needy. He wanted her to keep going, and so did she.

  So she did.

  “I think you know exactly what you’re doing, little firecracker.” He whispered in her ear, and she didn’t move. She stood still as he kissed her earlobe, her neck. Then he pressed his lips to hers and everything changed.

  She saw fucking stars.

  Dean’s lips were sweet and soft on her own. He kissed her gently, like she was precious, and it made Renee’s heart hurt because it had been so long since she felt like she was important or special. Usually, she was the one making other people feel valued. Usually, she was the one making other people feel like they had worth.

  Now Dean was offering this to her and she wanted to take it.

  She shouldn’t, she thought. It was all so fast, but she was always so careful and precise. Every part of Renee’s life was planned and sometimes, every once in awhile, she wanted to just let loose and be bad. Naughty. She wanted to be a little bit wild and tonight, she wanted that to be with Dean.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she stroked him faster. He had come just a little while ago. Could she make him come again? She wondered if she could. She wondered how fast she could make it happen.

  She rubbed, and he kept kissing her, and her heart soared right before it crashed. He pulled away and she protested with a whine, wondering why he was stopping. She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want him to make her stop. She didn’t want him to make her pull away because this was the most exciting thing she’d done in forever. This was the most wild she’d been and she loved it.

  “I love this,” Dean whispered. “But we should go now.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “Me neither,” he said, and she thought he was
telling her the truth. “But it’s late, and you’re a little drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  “But…”

  He silenced her with another soft kiss, a quiet one.

  “Climb on my back and I’ll get you home.”

  He took a few steps back and he shifted. He was gorgeous: big and high and silver. His scales twinkled in the starlight, and Renee couldn’t resist the urge to pet the dragon. He lowered his body and she climbed on his back. She sat close to his head and wrapped her arms around his neck, then they were flying.

  Soaring.

  Sailing.

  They then were over the center of Dragon Isle and Renee wondered how she’d never done this before in her entire life. She was a dragon herself, but she’d never ridden someone else, and to Renee, it was the most magical experience she’d ever had.

  4

  He was no good for her.

  For any girl, but especially her.

  Renee was sweet and tender and eager, and she had been perfectly responsive beneath his touch. How long had it been since he felt anything like that? How long had it been since he felt anyone like that? Years. Since before his wife had left. Since before he'd fucked up his marriage beyond repair.

  Barbara had been everything to him, but he'd screwed up. He'd focused on work and he'd put his job first. He had to. At least, he thought he did at the time. Now he was torn between realizing she had moved on and feeling regret that he hadn't done more to save their relationship.

  He hadn't wanted to be with another woman romantically in years. Fucking women was great, but he felt protective of Renee. He wanted to keep her safe and comfortable and his. As she pressed her body against his spine, he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to do this all of the time. He wasn't one for carting women around, but this was special and sweet and different. She was drunk, and she couldn't fly, and he wanted to protect her.

  He didn't know where she lived and he didn't ask. Instead, he flew right to his own home. It was a small, modest cabin he was renting on the island until he found something more permanent. The no-frills cabin had a single bedroom, but that was fine. He could sleep on the couch.