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Chapter 5

Twyla looked up into Bram's eyes, which were glowing in the moonlight with a gold metallic sheen. The pupils were just slightly elongated, though she didn't think they'd been at the party. It was as if he was too aroused to control his appearance. Every muscle and sinew was taut beneath the smooth skin that showed just the faintest trace of scale lines. Even the fangs were in evidence when he smiled and Twyla hummed her approval. "Perrrrrfect."

Then he started to move and she forgot how to speak.

Even though she was wetter than she'd ever been in her life, his size made sure she felt every bit of his slow slide out and forceful thrust back in. Her back scooted a few inches up the rock and she cried out at the abrasion to her wings.

"Sorry." He leaned over and slid his hands under her shoulders, wrapping the fingers around to hold her in place. He raised one eyebrow and grinned, but didn't say anything when his fingers brushed against the tip of her wings. The move put his face above hers and it was the most natural thing in the world to crane her neck upward, silently begging for his kiss. He gave her his lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth at the same time he pistoned his cock back into her cunt and he swallowed the little whimpers of pleasure she couldn't help making as he fucked her fast and hard.

It was only a few strokes later that their breathing became too labored to maintain the kiss and Bram's head fell to the side while Twyla gasped for air. Before she could even catch her breath, he caught the tendon on the side of her neck with his teeth, biting just hard enough to trigger some sort of pain-pleasure nerve she didn't know she had. At the same time, he slammed into her one last time, setting off the most powerful orgasm she'd ever experienced.

Colored stars filled the grove around them as Twyla screamed and her pussy clamped down on his cock. That must have done it for him, she felt his whole body tense even further, then with one final thrust, he held himself deep and came, the warm wet spurt of his seed jetting into her still-pulsating womb. The eroticism of the moment sent her over another peak and she strained against her bonds and cried his name as the stars exploded in front of her eyes brighter than ever before. The sensation was so overwhelming that the world faded to dark.

Holy shit, she'd passed out. Bram had enough strength, barely, to push himself up with his arms and not collapse on top of Twyla. She was so damn tiny he'd probably suffocate her and that would not be a good way to end what had turned out to be a pretty fucking good evening. Though he still wished he'd had a chance to take the asshole satyrs apart with his bare claws. And maybe teeth.

He pushed up to his knees, then used one hand to brush her tangled blonde curls away from her face. He trailed a finger down to the two small punctures on her throat. They were tiny wounds, meant to mark rather than draw blood and the hormones in his saliva made sure they were already healed shut. What the hell had he been thinking? He'd never bitten a lover before in his life. That was strictly a mating ritual for dragonkind.

Now that he could breathe, could think again, he realized he had to get Twyla out of here. Those cuffs were iron and a lot of the Fae were susceptible to the stuff. It was probably draining her strength even while she was unconscious. He slid off the boulder and examined the cuffs that bound her hands. Swearing at the satyrs, he let his claws out and used one talon to pick the lock on the left cuff. He swore some more when he peeled it away and saw the red angry burn that circled her pale, tender skin. He unwrapped the cuff chain from the longer one that circled the boulder, then climbed back onto the rock and pulled Twyla into his lap to remove the other bracelet. By the time he was done, she'd come to and was smiling up at him.

"Thank you."

He grunted, not sure if she was thanking him for freeing her or for the sex. "You okay?"

She giggled and licked her lips. "Marvelous." She stretched, causing the lower tip of her wing to rub along his cock, which had only gone down to half-mast in the first place. Then she winced. "Okay, a little sore, but I can live with that."

"You've some pretty nasty burns from the iron on your wrists. And I'd like to take a look at those wings in better light, make sure they aren't torn from the rock."

Her eyes darted away and she bit her lower lip. "Busted, huh?"

"'Fraid so, princess. On the up side, I won't need to mess with your memory about seeing mine. What are you anyway? Faery? Pixie? Sprite? You're definitely not a dragon."

"Pixie," she answered in a tiny voice. Then she shivered.

There weren't a lot of pixies running around the mortal realm. They tended to be a bit too flighty for things like jobs and mortgages, but Bram supposed there were exceptions to every rule. He shook off the thought. He could worry about that later. Right now, this little pixie was cold and that was something Bram had the power to do something about. He gathered her close in his arms and sent a warm breath down her spine. Sometimes there were advantages to being a half-dragon.

"Mmm. That was nice." She snuggled into his embrace like she belonged there. "I suppose my clothes are completely trashed, aren't they?"

"Pretty much. Can you conjure yourself some more?" He couldn't remember exactly which magics went with which branch of the Fae.

She wiggled in his lap till her hands were free and her face was no longer burrowing into his chest. Her eyes closed and her lips moved, but nothing else happened.

"Apparently not. The iron cuffs probably sapped things for a while." She cuddled back against his chest, which Bram had to admit, didn't bother him a bit. Well, it bothered part of him, but only because his cock was starting to think about round two. But then she yawned and he knew he was going to have to wait. It didn't for a second occur to him that this might have been a one shot deal. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd be seeing Twyla again. Right now though, he needed to get her somewhere warm, somewhere he could take care of the burns and abrasions.

"Okay, princess, time to get moving." Without dislodging her from his arms, he stood and stepped down from the boulder. "Can you stand?"

"Sure." She unfolded her legs and obediently stood on the ground. After one shaky moment when she grabbed his arm for support, she seemed to be fine, so he let her go and took a few seconds to pull on his pants and step into his shoes. She picked up a small purse that had been dropped beside the rock and he handed her a pair of flip-flops, which were apparently the only things she'd had on that the bastard satyrs had left intact. Then he lifted her back into his arms.

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