The Dragon Stirs by Lynda Aicher

whimpered at the absence. The lack of his warmth made her nipples bead in even tighter pebbles that forced a shiver through her limbs.
    “If you’re not naked in thirty seconds, I’m going to rip those jeans off you,” he growled, the predator in him mere inches from the surface. His pants and briefs dropped to the ground in the next second and she froze, stunned by the gorgeous display of pure male. His muscles tightened and his cock jerked under her blatant appraisal. Her eyes slowly traveled upward from the dropped jeans, over the corded length of his legs to the impressive cock that jutted stiff and wanting from his body, then up over the sculpted muscles of his abs and chest until she reached his moist, open lips and lust filled eyes.
    Undeniably, this man before her was all hers.
    Her dragon rumbled low in its chest and stoked the fire that burned deep and low. Wings spread, it circled, dipped and waited. Waited for more. Waited for what was to come.
    “Ten seconds, Airi,” Louk said, pulling her from the awestruck trance. “Ten seconds, and those jeans are toast.”
    Smiling, teasing, she slowly lowered the zipper, then slid her thumbs under the waistband, hooking her underwear in them, and lowered the two pieces of material together. Her breasts swayed provocatively as she bent to remove the clothing. She took her time stepping out of the legs, taunting him with her body, before she straightened. 
    She shrieked in surprise when his big arms circled her waist, lifted her off the ground and tossed her onto the bed in one smooth, fluid movement. 
    He stood above her, his chest heaving, his hands held tightly at his sides. His eyes made a slow trip over her prone body as he returned the sultry inquisition she’d performed earlier. Her nipples ached again, and she resisted the urge to bend her legs and hide the part of her body that now burned for him. 
    She held his gaze as he slowly knelt on the mattress, the soft cushion tipping and rolling with his weight. He stalked her as he edged closer. “Rule of engagement…fuck, whatever number we’re on now—never taunt a hungry beast if you’re not positive you can take him.” His gaze dipped to scan up her body, the visual trail leaving a path of smoldering embers in its wake.
    Her body arched in its own demand under his hot gaze. She let her eyes close and her head fall back then bit her lip to withhold a moan. 
    “There’s no question that I can take you,” she was finally able to croak out around the sudden dryness in her throat. She opened her eyes to look at him. “The question is if the beast can handle its prey.”
    He chuckled low, the sound deep with barely contained need. “That isn’t even a question, sweet cheeks.”
    He reached out with lightening quick speed and had her flipped to her stomach before she realized his intent. His hands grasped her bottom and squeezed. He groaned then slid his rough palms over the rounded flesh. “The name fits. Your ass is incredible.”
    The moan left her throat, and she buried her face into the pillow even as her bottom pushed up into his touch. His hands were lighting a fire that threatened to rage out of control. He shifted one palm to touch her—soft, stroking, caressing—on the back of her thigh. She gasped as the sensation went straight to her core and made her legs part in a silent request for more. His hand answered her offer and slid up her inner thigh towards the burning ache that needed his touch. 
    “Please,” she begged, moving her legs farther apart. She inhaled, lost her breath and nearly shrieked in ecstasy when one finger ran the length of the aching pussy from tip to end.
    “Fuck,” Louk breathed. “You’re so wet and hot.” 
    He grabbed her around the ribs and flipped her back over like a rag doll. His hand returned to her sex, and he stroked her again. The need spiked low in her gut, and she arched her hips begging for more. One finger stroked into her and she bucked in