“Yes, I have days like that, too. Oh, here we are.”
They stopped outside one of the cheaper Darwin hotels. Walking to the entrance, Brimstone snatched open the front door before she could. She smiled her thanks and hurried in.
The eyes of the girl behind the desk widened as she gazed up at Brimstone standing behind Amber. No doubt, he got this kind of reaction a lot.
She read the girl's name tag. “Hi, Suzie, I’m Amber Anderson in room 501. I’ve broken up with my boyfriend and he has the keycard. Is there any way I can have him removed from my room?”
The woman tore her gaze away from Brimstone. “Miss Stone, I…uh, can get you another card, but we can’t do anything about domestic altercations. The room is in Mr Goolia’s name.”
“Damn, I forgot about that, and we paid in advance, too! Can I cancel the room and get another?”
“No.” Brimstone's snapped command made Amber jump. She whirled around and stared at him. “You will come back and stay with me.”
Her eyes widened, and her stomach dropped at the sudden thought of being alone with this large, somewhat odd man. “I can’t do that, I just met you.”
“I will get you your own room. Give me her card key.” He pushed his large frame over the desk, his hand out, the silent demand clear.
Suzie obediently handed over the bit of black plastic.
“Come, we will gather your belongings. Suzie, call us a taxi.”
“Uh, yes sir.” The woman quickly picked up the phone.
Amber blinked as the world spun at breakneck speed. With a firm hold on her hand, Brimstone tugged her towards the elevator. The door opened and he pulled her inside.
* * * *
He fought a losing battle. The moment he got her into the small, confined space, a little more of his human persona and civility slipped with the need to take and claim his little, blue-eyed mate.
Her pale skin, parted pink lips, and fire in her gaze drew him under, like under a powerful spell.
“Look, Brimstone, I don’t know who you think—” He stepped in closer, crowding her into the corner, his hand by her shoulder keeping her contained, not as if there was anywhere to go in a small elevator.
“You like me.”
Her eyes widened, making a face saying, ‘Yeah, so?’ “And?”
“I like you. I want you and I want to fuck you.”
Brimstone wanted to slam himself over the head with his own tail when the words came out of his mouth. Damn dragon balls! Is it too much for my big dumb brain to ask for a little subtlety? He didn’t want to scare her away, and he was doing a damn, good job of fucking it all up.
Her mouth opened, and then slammed shut with a hiss. The elevator door dinged and slid open. She ducked under his arm, exiting the elevator, muttering, “Men suck.”
He followed after her down the hall, watching the fantastic sway of her ass while she stomped towards her room. Brim wondered how else he could fuck this up. He couldn’t. There was no possible way he could screw this up further, so he had nothing to lose.
Running on pure instinct, he grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. He swung her around and lifted her, so her feet dangled, and pushed her back against the wall next to the door marked 501. His chest mashed the softness of her breasts. Damn, she was soft everywhere.
Before she could so much as squeak indignantly, his lips were on hers. The soft, silky warmth of her lips made him groan. He never tasted something so fucking good. He pushed into her mouth with an insistent tongue, and squeezed her arse with his free hand, keeping her pinned with his upper torso.
It was not a soft kiss, or particularly tender—he plundered and possessed, nipping with his teeth, and then soothing with a hot tongue.
Gods, he almost came on the spot when she moaned and kissed him back, her tongue entwining with his, pushing back into his mouth. Hands on her arse, he hoisted her up so the junction of her thighs rubbed against his harder-than-granite shaft, trying to grind through their layers of clothing.
He grabbed her delectable, full arse cheeks with both hands and squeezed, pulling her closer. Her legs and arms wrapped around his waist and neck. He was almost utterly gone until, from behind them, a male’s disgusted voice broke the erotic spell.
“I always knew you were a god-damned, fucking whore!”
* * * *
“Something must be done. If those dragons come back to the King with anything remotely useful, their passage will not be secure any longer.”
Breylla, Demon Princess of the Eastern Hell Realm, tracked the pacing, grey dragon, agitation showing in his jerky movements, clenching fists, and whiny tone.
She let out a long suffering sigh. Despite her demon heritage and quick-to-anger brethren, she always prided herself on being more patient and calculating rather than simply reacting in rage to new challenges placed before them.