Free Novel Read

Max_Through the Portal_Sci-Fi Weredragon Romance Page 5


  “Yes, of course. There’s magic in every world, even yours. But in your world, they’ve either killed it or hidden it under the cover of science so that those who fear it or who would use it badly cannot do so.”

  She could see how science and magic could be viewed as the same thing. She said, “We’ve had a few scientists whose work got used for real evil.”

  “I’m sure.” They stood there, staring at the rocks and the images upon it. “Here, magic is always present. It has to be for this world to stand. If the magic dies, this world dies. It’s as simple as that.”

  As simple as that? She turned her head so she could see his face. “That’s…so how do you keep magic alive?”

  “We just are magic.”

  That phrase made her heart triple time it in her chest. He was definitely magical, of that there was no doubt. He said, “Come on.” He gave her hand a gentle tug, and they walked onward. His lean hip banged into hers, sending little shock waves through her system.

  I want him. That’s crazy as hell, but I want him. Hard on the heels of that came a new thought. Can he read my mind?

  She really hoped not but since she didn’t know for sure, she concentrated hard on clearing her brain of those thoughts, but the truth of them lingered on in her flesh, which was prickly and hot and shivering all over her bones. There was an undeniable wetness in her inner depths. She could not deny that she wanted him; it was written all over and within her body.

  She stopped walking. “Is that a town or something?”

  “It is.” They were at the very edge of a cliff now, looking downward into a fertile valley. “There’s a lot of people there. I’d rather walk in, if you don’t mind. They know of us, of course. Their ancestors came here with us, but even so, a dragon flying in can get them a little nervous.”

  “I bet.” She eyed the steep descent “How do we get down without killing ourselves?”

  “We take the path.” He pointed to a thin dirt track. She followed him to it. He said, “Here, put your hands at my waist and just try not to fall forward. If you think you are going to fall, just go backward. We’d be better off that way.”

  Dry-mouthed at the steep incline and the sheer craziness of walking down an actual mountain, Heather said, “Yeah sure. Fall backward. Got it.”

  Her hands went to Max’s lean waist. A long jolt of desire pulsed through her, stiffening her nipples. His hips rested just below her hands, and she could feel the heat of his skin below the simple shirt and trousers that he wore. That heat was echoing throughout her body, sending off crazy flares of want and need.

  The feel of his hips and waist moving as they started down didn’t help calm that feeling either. Instead, that desire just grew stronger as she felt the flex and release of his long and lean muscles below her fingers and palms. She forgot to keep an eye out and nearly fell, teetering for a moment before realizing the danger she was putting both of them into and righting herself.

  It took every ounce of her willpower to stop paying attention to his magnificent body and to pay attention to the path.

  Max said, “Are you okay?”

  Her feet faltered a little bit. She cleared her throat. “I am. Just a little nervous.”

  He spoke in a soothing tone that made her feel both better and worse. “We’re almost there, and you’re doing great.”

  She wasn’t doing great. Not in this world, and not in her own either. She asked, “Did you want to be king?”

  He stopped walking. He stopped walking so suddenly that she actually walked right into his back. The hard and strong muscles that made up his ass and his back met her body, and she completely lost her breath and her entire train of thought.

  His hands came down and pushed her hands away from his waist. She immediately felt the absence of him. That was an oddity in and of itself, but she didn’t give herself time, didn’t dare give herself time, to question why she felt that absence. They were about three-quarters of the way down now, and the ground had leveled into a sort of ledge. He peered over the side and down at the village below before leveling a direct gaze on her face.

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about it. It’s just the way things were. When we were made, my father was the first, and he was also the leader of the knights that were cursed to be dragons. I guess it was just a natural thing.”

  She regarded him steadily. “A natural thing?”

  A small vertical slash appeared between his eyebrows. “My father came from a time different than the one you live in. Back then, feudal law and rule of blood were common. Kings were born for the most part and others made by war. He seemed to fit both bills, I guess.”

  She could agree to that but it had not escaped her notice that his answer had been evasive and uncertain. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but her thoughts of her own cowardice and career made her say, “If you could choose to be anything you wanted to be, what would you be?”

  He gave her a sheepish smile. “The time when knights lived and fought on your world is over. Those times are over here as well. We’ve managed to come to some sort of peace with the Orcs, and we avoid the elves. There’s really no need to fight so we don’t, but if I had my choice, I’d be a knight.”

  “I think you’d make an incredible knight.”

  He smiled at her. “Let us hope that peace remains and I never have to find out.”

  She gazed down at the small town and said, “I think I can make it from here.”

  He nodded and pointed to where the path bumped sideways and then moved downward again. “All right then.”

  She started walking, striding along right next to him. She wasn’t actually confident in her ability to make it down the side of that mountain; she just knew that if she continued to touch him, she was going to lose her usual inhibitions. There was just something about Max that made her so heated and left her so aching that she was afraid of it. Him too. Any man who could make her feel that way was a man she should not get close to.

  Chapter Ten

  Max was having fun, something not very common for him. Heather was delighted by the small village filled with humans and changelings, half-dragon and half-human beings. She delighted in the stores and in the smell of the flowers growing wild along the meandering streets. He kept watching her face closely, wondering if she had been truthful when she had said that she did not want to have a child with Blake.

  That she had just met Blake, he knew. That she was a rather unwilling visitor to his land, he also knew. But Blake, for all his faults, could be very charming when he chose to be. It was clear that Blake had no thought of abandoning his rather ridiculous plan to have children with either Heather or her crazy friend. That Max also wanted Heather rather complicated things. That he wanted her was not something he could deny any longer.

  However, he had been truthful when he had told her that what had happened had not been Blake’s fault and that it had been unfair. The law had been broken, and that punishment had been severe but necessary. The law never took into account the reasons why someone committed a crime, only that they had.

  The evening was gone now in darkness way across the land. Heather asked, “Are we going to climb back up the mountain?”

  He shook his head. “No. We’re going to walk off to the side a bit and then were going to fly.”

  She asked, “Why do they get so disturbed at the sight of you if they have changelings in their midst?”

  He regarded her carefully. Her lack of knowledge of what went on in that world floored him a bit, but he could understand it. If he had to stay in her world for more than any amount of time, he would’ve been just as confused. In truth, he was always confused by her world even if he was just popping in briefly as he had during that moment when he had accidentally snatched her. He said, “Well, changelings have no powers. They don’t have the ability to fly. At most, they can transform, but they don’t have wings.”

  She stared at him, her mouth agape. “So, you’re saying they kind of look like T-Rex?


  He blinked. “What is that?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind. So, it’s the fact that you fly that bothers them?”

  He said, “It bothers the changelings. Those who do not have flight regret that they don’t. It’s neither fair nor wise to show them what they lack.”

  She said, “I can see that.”

  He pulled her a few hundred yards along the base of the cliff, out of the sight of the glowing lights that shone from the houses. He changed and let her climb aboard his back and then he set off, winging his way toward the castle.

  Her laughter came from overhead, and he craned his neck around asked, “What is it?”

  She said, “I don’t know. I just felt like laughing.”

  He turned his head back forward. He knew exactly what made her laugh. He often felt the same joy while in flight. He could not imagine being a human and not possessed of the ability to fly. He often felt pity for the changelings for their lack of flight. The worst thing that could happen to a dragon would be to lose his wings.

  Some dragons did choose that. They chose to live in the other world as mortals: something else he knew he would never be able to do.

  They landed on the roof. His wings folded and he lowered himself gently so that she could dismount. The phantom warmth of her body lay over his body, causing his to ache all over again and in a way that said the next ride he wanted to give her would be in his bed.

  She stood beside him, the gown molded to her body by the wind. The outlines of her figure, all lean angles and sharp curves, pert and high breasts and gently belling hips, made his rod throb and then throb again. She was beautiful, no doubt, but there were plenty of beautiful females in that world. What was it about her that called to him? That sang like a siren song in his ear and inflamed his lust to the point that he could feel it boiling just below the surface of his skin?

  He moved, meaning to just walk away. Instead, she stepped toward him, and he forgot all the words of caution that had rung through his head just a few seconds before.

  She was dangerous, this human. She could and would change him somehow: he was sure of it. There was no way he was about to kiss her.

  Only he did. His mouth touched her lips and the taste of her ripe and warm mouth sent his senses into overdrive. Her lips parted, and his tongue plunged into the wet and warm depths of her mouth, making him go harder than ever before. His hips arched forward and he felt hers respond to that wordless demand. Her pelvis bumped against the fat and long expanse of his organ, sending even more blood into that girth and making a low growl spill from his mouth.

  She came to her senses it seemed because she moved away, her hands flattening on his broad chest. Even that touch made his lower body pulse and ache with unrequited desire.

  She whispered, “I don’t think we should be up here doing this.”

  He muttered, “You’re right.” Then he picked her up in his arms, cradling her body against his as he asked, “Would you rather go somewhere besides this roof with me?”

  The only thing she said to that question was a vehement yes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Max’s booted foot kicked open the door to his bedroom. She got the impression of far more space and much more extravagant furnishings than what were in her room, but none of those things really registered upon her brain because his lips were back on hers, and then they were gone and she was flying through the air to land on an incredibly soft mattress that yielded under her weight.

  Max’s clever hands found her buttons and then the hem of the dress. It went up and over her head, forcing her to stop kissing him for a moment. Then it was gone, and his hands were on her bare skin, stripping off her bra and panties and leaving trails of shivers in the wake of his fingers.

  Her breath caught in her throat as he licked his tongue down the hollow of her throat and then pressed a kiss right against her pulse. Everything in her responded to that touch. Her fingers curled around the ledges of his shoulders and her legs spread more widely while a small cry came from her mouth. That cry got longer and louder when his tongue, teeth, and lips all moved to her breasts. He tugged and licked at her nipples before sucking them hard while his fingers squeezed the fleshy globes around her areola.

  Her legs kicked out and opened wider as his lean body wedged itself between her thighs, his hands tracing along her ribs and then the soft skin of her belly. Pleasure broke over her, making her bottom jiggle as she tangled her fingers into his coarse hair and arched her hips up higher, wriggling as his breath stirred the wet curls at the apex of her thighs.

  His tongue found her button, making her scream softly. That touch was amazing: it was vital and real and want ran through her body, refusing to take no for an answer as he began to lick her in earnest, his tongue applying the perfect pleasure to that hard ridge of flesh at the top of her hood. Her body rose and fell as she ground herself against his eager face, her heels dug into the mattress and her fingers kept yanking at his hair as friction and heat bloomed into being and then, hard on the heels of those things and far too soon, came an intense and mind-shredding orgasm that sent long gushes of slick oils splashing from her body and onto his face.

  She wanted him. She wanted, badly, to feel that hot and hard staff of his inside her clenching walls and slippery core. But she was not ready to let him do that yet. She wanted to taste him as he had tasted her, to give him the same pleasure he had just brought to her body.

  She flipped herself over, pressing him into the mattress. As she lowered herself to his rod, she found herself fascinated by it. He was huge, so huge that she wondered for a moment if she could take all of him. The starchy masculine smell of a man hit her nose, and her fingers stroked along the vein-wrapped shaft of his organ. It throbbed, and the head went dark and wet with juices.

  She bent her head and let herself collect those creamy drops, relishing the salty flavor that lay on the back of her tongue as she did so. He was too large to swallow so she settled on licking up and down his shaft and fisting it before sucking his head into her mouth and letting her tongue roll around the delicate flesh there to impart more pleasure to him.

  His groan was loud and shattering. She worked harder as his hands cupped the back of her hair and his hips moved up and down in an urgent way that made her heart pound and fresh slippery and fragrant juices spill from her inner walls to collect on her outer lips.

  He yanked her upward, and she straddled him, her center, wet and quivering, poised over his member. She glided her hips downward, twisting them just a bit. His cry met hers and then she was moving faster and faster as he used his hands to guide her into a pace that soon had her panting from not just exertion, but the need for release. She felt her inner folds cup and cradle him and then they let off a trembling spasm that sent more silken fluids spilling from her to coat his enormous staff as she rode it wildly, intent on not just releasing herself but taking him right there with her.

  He released splattering into her sheath. Heather, spent and totally limp, slumped into his chest and he rolled over carefully, withdrawing his now flaccid member from her body as his arms went around her body and pulled her closer still.

  As they lay in bed with their bodies tangled and slowly cooling, Heather said, “I’ll admit I was afraid for a second there.”

  He gave her a long look. “Oh?”

  The corners of her lips went up, and the skin around her eyes crinkled just a bit in a very attractive way. “Well, yeah. I mean I was afraid you’d decide to snort fire into my hair or something.”

  He gave her an amused look. His hand rested on the space right between her breasts and one of his fingers traced up and along her sternum, making her want to wriggle closer. “I try not to catch a woman’s hair on fire. Women can be testy about their hair.”

  Her grin became a laugh. He had a sense of humor, something she never would have believed when they’d met. “True.” She let her hands glide over his smooth hip, enjoying the feel of the muscle and bone below his
skin. “What’s it like to grow up as a dragon?”

  “We don’t change until we’re older, so much like growing up as a human, I guess.”

  That caught her by surprise? “Oh? That’s interesting. In my world, it’s all dragon babies born in eggs and breaking out of the shell fully formed and giant.”

  “No wonder you and your friend said no so adamantly to Blake’s proposal. That sounds incredibly painful. Unless you laid the egg, I guess, but who wants to lay an egg? I can’t say I have ever known a woman who envied a fowl.”

  There it was again. Either he had a sense of humor or zero filters. Either way, it was cute and very witty. Their laughter was shared that time. When they sobered, he said, “And no, it is not like that at all. We are born as humans are, and in much the same manner, just sooner. But there are differences. Those born with powers are taught the law from an early age, so they know what is right and what is wrong. The law is not made to be broken, no matter the reason.”

  “You said that earlier.” She hesitated, but her curiosity got the better of her. “What can someone do to break the law?”

  “There are a lot of laws, and they are all able to be broken. Mostly though, one cannot kill another dragon. One cannot share with a human blood or the dragon heart.”

  That caught her attention. “What does that mean?”

  His hand bore down slightly over her breast. She could feel the steady pump and flow of her heart below his hand, and she drew in a deep breath, letting his hand flatten a little more onto her breast.

  He said, “We are born without a heart like yours. Ours are flesh, yes, but they are more than that too. They are forged in some way that has to do with the spell, and I won’t bore you with the details. We can also give a bit of our heart to a dragon that is dying because the fire in their heart has stopped burning.”