but eyes that snapped with desire. She’d never had a man look at her like this. As though she was the most delectable woman in the world.
Outside, the lights of the street gleamed, and there came the cacophony of clattering wheels, trotting hooves, the shouts of coachmen. The street would be packed with carriages, with outriders with torches, all the bustle of a busy Mayfair street.
“Christ,” he muttered. “You are so amazingly tight.”
She breathed hard, trembling. “I am not hurting you, am I?”
“No, my dear. I’m indestructible.”
His words set her on fire. Made her wild and bold. She felt as strong and wild as she did when she became a dragon.
A grin twitched his lips. “Ride me, my dear.”
She did.
“God, I can’t hold it back,” Greystone growled. Then his hips arched up, driving his cock inside to the hilt. She squealed as the thick rod and his huge size filled her completely, pushed deep. Her fingers curled. It was so good. But she didn’t climax.
The duke did. His head arched back, and he howled in pleasure. Then he slumped back on the bench. “Lady Lucy, come here. Turn. Kneel on my chest.”
She hesitated, but he chuckled harshly. “I can support you, love.”
As Lucy daintily got into place, he grasped her hips and drew her forward. The duke held the rod in her bottom and began moving it in long slow strokes. He took it all the way out, then pushed it forward so it made a luscious pop going inside. Then he flicked his tongue over her clit. He suckled her and thrust the rod in her bottom.
In seconds, an orgasm screamed through her. She cried out and he slid his fingers inside her pulsing cunny. She felt her walls squeeze him.
God, she’d never felt anything like this. She was writhing wildly, and screaming so terribly loud—
Then everything went black.
When Lucy dazedly opened her eyes, she was lying on the duke’s chest, and his arms were wrapped around her. He must have eased the rod from her rump, for she didn’t feel it. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair. “There, love. Do you feel all right?”
“I feel wonderful,” she breathed. She should get up. She must. But her feet were twitching a bit, her legs were weak, and she felt overwhelmed with sensation.
Oh goodness, what had she just done?
All sorts of astonishing, erotic, wonderful things.
The duke turned her into something quite different than the well-bred lady she was trying to be. He transformed her into a wanton creature.
She had tried so hard to keep the dragon inside her captured within her tightly laced corset. But for the first time, she wondered if she would be better to let it out a little more often. Not actually change shape, but become wilder and stronger, more sensual, more aggressive, the way she was when she was a dragon.
Sinjin smiled. Lady Lucy gazed at him sleepily. He cupped her cheek, and used the contact to try to look inside her thoughts. Had she been lying? Did she know where his nephew was? Did she know what his nephew was? To his astonishment, thoughts slammed into his mind. The messages were snippets of swift thoughts and he fought to grasp them.
Something quite different than the well-bred lady I am trying to be, she thought. He transformed me into a wanton creature.. . .
Let it out more often... .
Jack, what have you done this time ... how could you hide while we were so worried about you ... please, let me find you safe and sound... .
Will the duke really take me to Jack ... I want to trust him ... but am I a fool?
He knew that vampires could trade thoughts with other preternatural beings, but only when both parties were willing to send their thoughts.
“We will go and fetch your brother very soon.” He said the words softly, the way a mesmerist tried to push his will into another’s mind. And he sent more thoughts back to her. Was there a boy your father spoke about? Did your father ever tell you about a boy named James?
She would not know where these thoughts had come from and, if she knew anything about his nephew, it would trigger her thoughts in response.
They rushed to him. What Father said ... the day before he died ... he had done something awful ... he had tried to protect a child ... and he’d failed ... what if it truly was the duke’s nephew? What if the child he was speaking of was not an orphan or abandoned?
Sinjin’s heart picked up speed and he waited.
Why would Father take his nephew ... I don’t understand... .
With a sharp pain in his head, Sinjin lost the connection with her thoughts. He lifted her hand and bestowed a soft kiss. Damn, but he should despise this woman—this dragon—who was one of the family who had taken James.
But she was so different from any other dragon he’d met. Human emotions were powerful in her. She was vulnerable. But also she deeply loved her brother. He’d tasted the emotion she’d felt when she’d thought about his nephew. It was empathy, worry, fear, pain. None of those emotions suggested she was guilty.
Her father and brother might be vicious enough to hold his nephew hostage as a pawn in the battle between dragons and dragon slayers, but Lady Lucy Drake seemed to be astonishingly softhearted. For a dragon.
Sinjin gently lifted her so she was sitting up. “First we will get you washed up, my dear. Then we will get your brother.”
At which point she would know what he was—a dragon slayer. What was he going to do then? His duty was to destroy both her and her brother. Unless they could help him find his nephew, he was supposed to do it.
For the first time in his life, he felt something other than ice-cold at the thought of carrying out his duty, damn it. He saw Lady Lucy push back her tangled raven-black curls and he felt regret.
7
The Hunt
She had done the most intimate things with this man—she had let him make love to her in the most shocking and scandalous ways. That, she’d had the courage to do, but speaking to him as they sat across from each other in a carriage? Suddenly it was impossible. And being in such a confined space with the Duke of Greystone felt like the most awkward thing in the world.
Lucy folded her arms in front of her chest. Her neck ached from the ramrod stiffness of her spine, but the duke looked far more pained than she. He was slumped in the corner, his head thrown back, his eyes shut. Harsh lines ringed his mouth. He kept making grumpy, growling sounds, like an angered bear.
“What is wrong?” she ventured. “Is it worry about your nephew? I am—I am sure he must be all right.” He must be—surely Father could not have done anything else. “I am sure Father would take the best care of him.”
“Are you?”
How could he make
