The Dragon From Paris: A Sexy Dragon Romance Read online

  And of course, she agreed to go out to dinner with him the next night. She would be crazy not to.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Clarissa expected the restaurant Abel picked to be good. He could afford the best, after all, so it wasn’t as if he would need to resort to burgers and fries from a roadside vendor, unless it was simply a personal quirk of his. (And though she didn’t say so, Clarissa was quietly glad that didn’t seem to be the case.) So, she had expected dinner to be of high quality.

  She hadn’t expected it to be almost transcendental. Her coffee tasted like it had been blessed by the gods of caffeine, and she was pretty sure she heard someone mention ‘Kona.’ Her soup warmed her from her toes to her ears. Her steak was exactly as rare as she liked it, and the potatoes were creamy and to die for. Even the bread was fantastic, soft as a cloud and with butter sweetened with honey.

  And that wasn’t even getting into dessert, though that came from somewhere else entirely than dinner. That, as well, was something she hadn’t seen coming. The waiter had offered, of course, but Abel had waved the offer off before Clarissa could even give it a thought, and he had given her a knowing look. So, he had something in mind for dessert, at least. A surprise, then. Clarissa liked surprises, so she supposed she was game.

  Even if dessert involved a bit of a walk. It was a nice night, after all. Warm and breezy, with hardly a cloud in the sky. There were no stars to speak of—certainly not in such a big city—but it was calm all the same.

  Besides, the conversation was good, even if Clarissa couldn’t quite relate to Abel’s stories about his siblings.

  “I’m an only child,” she explained eventually. “Honestly, I don’t really have much of anything by way of family. I’ve got my mom and two sets of grandparents, but my grandparents have lived in different states for as long as I can remember. My mom didn’t have any siblings. I’ve got an uncle on my dad’s side—his older brother—and he definitely likes to date women even younger than me, but he’s never had kids. So, cousins haven’t ever really been a thing.” She shrugged carelessly. “I’ve been as spoiled as my mom could afford, but all of my playmates were definitely not related to me.”

  “Did it ever get lonely?” he wondered, and his pace was finally slowing. Presumably, they were getting close to their goal.

  “Not really,” Clarissa answered frankly. She was barely paying attention to the walk at that point, so when they came to a building and slowed to a halt, she hardly even noticed. “I had a lot of friends at school. I only keep in touch with a few of them anymore, but either way, it’s not like I’ve spent my life in isolation or anything like that.” As Abel pulled open the nearby door, Clarissa let him usher her inside.

  And it smelled incredible. Finally, she took a moment to look around, and she realized they were standing in a crepe shop. It was reasonably quiet—it was getting fairly late in the evening—but it still seemed lively, and they were greeted cheerfully as they approached the counter. Clarissa stared with wide eyes at the boards on the wall listing the various options as if she was in some sort of stupor as she tried to figure out what she wanted.

  In the end, she went with a crepe that had melted dark chocolate, cut up mini marshmallows, and a very fine dusting of graham cracker dust. It was probably the least healthy thing she had ever eaten in her entire life, and as they left the shop and carried on walking back towards Abel’s car, it was the most amazing thing she had ever put in her mouth.

  She would admit, she was not dainty about eating it, but she wasn't ashamed. Being preoccupied with how she looked would have been an insult to the crepe, and that would have been unconscionable. The crepe didn’t deserve to be maligned like that.

  Regardless, the crepe had been polished off by the time they made it back to Abel’s car, and as he held open the passenger side door, he wondered in a tone that was far too casual, “So, should I take you back to the hotel now?”

  Clarissa allowed herself a second to think it over. She was pretty sure he wasn’t actually expecting anything else of her. Not really, at any rate. She would feel no guilt if she decided to call it a night there and let him take her back to the hotel.

  But really, where was the fun in that?

  “You could always show me where you live,” she suggested as she slid into the passenger seat, her words coy as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I’m sure we can find a way to keep ourselves entertained while we’re there.”

  She saw his throat bob as he swallowed, and it was a gratifying sight. “You’re right,” he agreed easily, before he closed the passenger door and rounded the car to the driver’s side.

  It was a blessedly brief drive after that, and they began kissing almost the instant they were both out of the car, the entire way from the street, up the stairs to the porch, and through the door. There was no sense in wasting time, after all.

  They began shedding clothing as soon as they stepped into Abel’s townhouse, as if they were leaving a trail of breadcrumbs from the welcome mat all the way to the bedroom. There were shirts on the ground floor, a bra on the stair railing, shoes on the landing, pants in the upstairs hallway, and two pairs of underwear and a pair of tights just inside the bedroom. And all the while, they hardly stopped kissing, and even when they did, it was only for the briefest moments, and only when separating was necessary to finish taking their clothing off.

  They tumbled down onto the bed in a heap, and Clarissa wasn’t even sure who had initiated the tumble. They seemed too in-sync, as if they were both coming to the same conclusions and

  decisions at the same time. It wasn’t important, though. What was important was that they were both on the bed, and they knew what they wanted to do while they were there once Clarissa was on her back and Abel was kneeling over her.

  Their hands explored almost feverishly as they continued to kiss, tongues tangling and exploring. It seemed to take no time at all and yet, simultaneously, almost an eternity before they were

  rutting against each other as Abel trailed kisses along Clarissa’s jaw, neck, and chest. She gasped in a breath when he closed his lips around one nipple and dragged the tip of his tongue in circles over it, and they didn’t truly separate until she curled a hand around Abel’s rapidly stiffening cock and stroked it once, slowly. He inhaled sharply and lifted his head to glance up at her face as she looked down at him and slowly and deliberately stroked him again.

  Their eyes met, and a moment of understanding passed between them. Abel sat up on his knees, and Clarissa rolled over onto her belly. She waited until she could feel his hands wrap around her hips before she gathered her knees beneath herself, and she folded her arms on the bed to rest her cheek on them as he hoisted her hips up, off of the bed. She spread her knees just a bit farther apart as she felt him press two fingers to her dripping sex, but before he pressed them into her, she said simply, “Don’t bother.”

  He blinked at her, eyebrows rising slightly, and she gave her hips a very deliberate wiggle in his hold. “Well, come on,” she coaxed, turning her head to look back at him as best she could. “Or are you not quite as interested as you seem?” she wondered wryly, wiggling her hips once again just for show.

  He didn’t need any more convincing after that, as he lined his cock up with her entrance and thrust in, sheathing himself within her in one swift movement. Clarissa buried her face against the bed to muffle the noise she made when she moaned, long and loud, and she swore her knees very nearly gave out just then, if not for the hold he still had on her hips, holding her off of the bed.

  “Keep going,” she gasped before he could even decide to give her a moment to adjust, and he began thrusting, drawing out until just the head of his cock was still within her before thrusting back in until his pelvis met the backs of her thighs. Each thrust was fast and firm, jolting her forwards each time, so she had to brace her arms against the bed lest her face get buried in the mattress. Despite that, she couldn't help but to gasp out, “Yes, yes, harder, please,” ev
ery so

  often, until it felt as if he was trying to fuck her straight through the bed and to the floor below. She certainly wouldn’t argue if that was the case.

  Granted, it did mean that neither of them was destined to last too long, and Clarissa could feel that familiar heat and tension building in her belly, more and more until it seemed fit to burst. When she came with a moan that was more like a strangled cry, her knees gave out at last, and she knew she would have fallen flat onto the bed if not for Abel’s hold on her hips as he kept thrusting, his rhythm gradually getting more and more unsteady as he approached his own climax.

  He managed only a few more thrusts as he came, pounding into her throughout his orgasm until he couldn’t anymore, and then they simply stilled. Neither of them moved for a few moments, until he pulled his softening cock out and lowered her back down to the bed.

  They were both sweating and panting, chests heaving as if they had run a marathon. Clarissa gradually went limp as she caught her breath, and Abel flopped down beside her, careful not to land on top of her.

  Never before had Clarissa felt quite so sated.

  For a moment, they simply lay there in relative silence, until finally Clarissa sat up. She dragged a hand over her hair and swung her legs over the side of the bed to get to her feet with some

  reluctance.

  “Where are you off to?” Abel wondered, his voice more of a mumble as he rolled onto his side to face her.

  “To collect my clothes before I forget where they all landed,” she answered wryly before she turned to head towards the bedroom door.

  Abel huffed out a quiet breath of laughter. “Fair enough,” he returned mildly. “Just remember to come back to bed afterwards.”

  As if she needed to be reminded. His bed put the bed in her hotel room to shame, and the bed in her hotel room already made it seem as if her own bed back home was stuffed full of rocks. Why would she try to sneak out early when she was pretty sure she could get the best night of sleep she had ever had in her life in that townhouse?

  She collected articles of clothing as she walked, cradling them in one arm until she got to the bottom of the stairs. She dropped them all into a pile there, kicking her shirt into the pile with the toes of one foot almost as an afterthought. With all of her clothes in one place, she wandered from the entryway to the living room, just to take a curious peek around.

  After all, all she had seen of the lavish little townhouse was the path from the door right up to the bedroom. That didn’t exactly count as a tour, she reflected, as she stopped in front of the living room window, and she had no compunctions about giving herself her own abbreviated tour

  instead.

  It was nearly midnight by then, and the neighbors were quiet. Or at least Clarissa was assuming they were quiet. It was entirely likely that the insulation was simply good enough that she wouldn’t have been able to hear the neighbors on either side even if both of them decided to throw a drunken frat party.

  Cars still drove down the road, and every so often someone walked past, hurrying along the sidewalk as a light drizzle began to pick up. But it was quiet, or at least quieter as compared with earlier. There weren’t enough people for her to feel self-conscious about, standing in the darkened room stark naked, at any rate.

  It certainly hadn’t been how she had expected her first night in Paris to go, and never in a million years would she have guessed what sort of surprises that interview held or how amazing the

  second night would be, but she couldn’t exactly say she had any complaints.

  The noise from outside was muffled into silence, and it was peaceful. So really, she probably could have been forgiven for not expecting there to be any interruptions for the rest of the night.

  At least not until she saw something flying towards the window, rapidly getting larger as it got closer. She threw herself aside at the last moment, landing on the floor just as the window burst inwards with a spray of glass, and she scrabbled away, pulling her arms over her head like some sort of shield as she did.

  Her ears were ringing, both from the shock and the smashing of the glass, and it took a moment before she could bring herself to look up and see what burst into the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  There were a few things in life Clarissa never expected to see. Granted, such things had stumbled into her life before, and she had adjusted quickly, and on the whole, she liked surprises. But the creature fumbling back to its feet after crashing through the window looked to be a four-legged reptile the size of a steroidal moose, and the only word she could think to describe it was

  “dragon.”

  She had been quite certain she was never going to see one of those in person and needing to throw herself out of the way before it could crash into her and smash her into pulp was the sort of surprise she was comfortable saying she would never enjoy.

  She had to stare at it, even as she scrambled away from it to huddle in the nearest corner, trying and more or less failing to avoid broken glass on the floor as she went. She could feel the sharp edges biting into her hands as she shuffled backwards.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and curled up even smaller, willing herself to wake up. She was dreaming. That had to be the only answer. Because what was going on couldn’t actually be going on, and there had to be some other explanation that actually made sense.

  Ignoring the fact that she had already felt pain from the glass, she pinched herself a few times, but to no avail. She couldn’t even be surprised. And with that confirmation that she wasn’t dreaming, she cracked an eye open again to actually look at the creature that had burst into the house.

  It had a deep, barrel chest and long, sturdy legs, with a tail so long and whip-like that most of it was still outside the window. Horns sprouted from its head, curved slightly and pointing back towards its shoulders, though with its long, serpentine neck, its horns were still nowhere near long enough to actually touch its shoulders. Spikes started at its nose, running upwards along its long, slightly rectangular face, splitting into a Y halfway up so that the small spikes continued over its eyes, before they finally began to get larger as they clustered around its horns.

  Another row of spikes, larger and slightly curved, trailed from the base of its skull all the way along its neck and spine to the end of its tail. It had wings folded tightly to its back, so tightly that she nearly missed them, if not for the way the membranes were just a shade paler than the rest of its scales. It was a deep reddish shade, and Clarissa might have described it as ruby, if not for the way it changed color as it moved and the light shifted.

  Each and every scale was shifting through a rainbow of colors as it turned its head to look at her, focusing on her with large eyes that were a shade of grey she could only call silver. Its pupils were long and narrow, thinning as if looking at her meant looking towards the streetlight.

  She was pretty sure she was about to be eaten, or mauled, or something like that, and abruptly she wished she had let her mom help with her packing more, just so they could have spent a little more time with each other, and she wished she had gone out for coffee with her best friend at least one more time. Hindsight was twenty-twenty, though.

  Before it could eat her—before it could even take more than a step towards her—Abel came barreling down the stairs like a stampede of one, still as naked as he had been when

  Clarissa left his room. He skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, and she expected him to react with shock or fear. She didn’t expect his eyes to narrow in outrage as he took in the broken glass, Clarissa cowering in the corner, and the unwelcome reptilian guest.

  And then, Abel changed shape. It was as if every bone and muscle in his body contorted, twisting and expanding, until he was just as reptilian as the intruder. He stood on only two wings, but he was just as large with an equally whip-like tail. He had no arms or front legs, and instead his wings had small, grabby claws at the ends of the front-most joints.

  His neck was s
lightly shorter, his head a bit more tapered and triangular, and his horns were curved around the sides of his head like a ram’s. Small spikes protruded from his chin like a beard, and rather than spikes down his back, instead he seemed to be armored. Each of his scales was silver, reflecting light until he shined and shimmered like mercury, though the color darkened to black at the ends of his horns, talons, and claws, and the membranes of his wings were nearly black as well. His eyes were the same pale, clear shade of gold that Clarissa remembered.

  For a moment, they simply stared at each other, and then Abel surged forward. His neck straightened, head lashing out with the speed and surety of a striking viper, and he caught one of the other dragon’s horns in his teeth, forcing the intruding dragon to follow as Abel hauled it right back out the window it had intruded through.

  Slowly, Clarissa shuffled away from the window as the end of a tail disappeared through it, and she peered over the edge just in time to watch both of them launch into the sky, twirling around each other like a pair of flying tops. For an absurd moment, Clarissa couldn’t help but think of those fairy toys she had played with as a child, that spun through the air when she pulled a drawstring.