The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Slowly at first, gently, giving her body time to adjust to the sensation of his mouth on her. But the taste of her, the feel of her nipple hardening against his tongue, the small sounds she was making in response to his touch.....it was almost too much.

The suction increased.

His tongue circled her breast, and he sucked harder.

His free hand moved to her other breast, cupping it, playing with the nipple there, giving it the same attention his mouth was lavishing on the first.

Morgana’s back arched, and a gasp escaped her.

”Thorne...” she murmured.

For just a moment, the intensity of her response, the sound of his name on her lips, nearly broke his control completely. He sucked even harder, drawing her breast deeper into his mouth, losing himself in the sensation of finally having her the way he’d been dreaming of having her.

Then reality crashed back down.

She was fevered. She was vulnerable. He needed to get her into cold water, not make her fever worse by continuing to assault her senses with his mouth and his hands.

With tremendous effort, Thorne pulled back.

He released her breast with an audible pop.

He looked up at her face, at the fever-hazed desire in her dark eyes, at the parted lips and the slightly swollen mouth that he’d kissed so intensely.

He bent down again and took her lips with his own, kissing her deeply, his hand still cupping her breast, still playing with her nipple, still unable to quite let go of her.

But then he forced himself to pull away.

”We need to get you to the bathroom,” he said, his voice rough, barely recognizable as his own. ”The cold water. We need to break this fever.”

Morgana made a small sound of protest, her fevered body clearly not ready to give up the sensation of his touch.

But Thorne was already moving.

He scooped her up into his arms, her naked body fitting perfectly against his clothed one, and he stood from the bed. He carried her the bathroom.

***

The bathing chamber connected to Thorne’s chambers was as luxurious as everything else he possessed.

The centerpiece was not a simple bathtub but rather an enormous sunken pool filled with water so cold that steam was rising from where it met the relatively warm air of the chamber. It was clearly meant to be therapeutic, a place to recover from battles, to ease the strain of holding a human form when a dragon wanted to break free.

The water was already cold, prepared by servants who understood the needs of their king.

Thorne carried Morgana to the edge and carefully began to lower her into the cold water.

The moment the chill touched her fevered skin, she gasped.

A sharp, sudden intake of breath as the contrast between her internal heat and the external cold shocked her system. Her eyes snapped open fully, consciousness pulling through the layers of fever and desire, her entire body reacting to the dramatic temperature change.

”Shush,” Thorne murmured, his voice oddly gentle given the intensity of what was happening. ”It will help. Trust me.”

He lowered her fully into the water, supporting her carefully, making sure her head remained above the surface, making sure she didn’t slip beneath the cold depths. The water came up to her shoulders, and he could see the way her body was responding to it.

Morgana’s breath came in short gasps, her body trembling, whether from cold or from the residual heat of the fever or from the shock of the sudden change, it was impossible to tell.

But Thorne wasn’t leaving her alone in the cold water.

He remove his own clothes.

His shirt came off first, revealing the powerful muscles beneath, the dark hair across his chest, the dragon runes that covered his shoulders and arms. His pants followed, dropping to the floor, and then he was standing before her in complete nakedness.

And for just a moment, before he stepped into the water, his cock was fully visible....hard, ready, desperate with want, evidence of his absolute inability to maintain distance from her no matter how many times he tried.

Then he stepped into the water.

The cold was shocking even to him, even to someone whose body was accustomed to dramatic temperature changes, whose dragon form could regulate heat and cold with ease. But he didn’t hesitate. He moved directly to where Morgana was standing, trembling in the water.

He pulled her close, her back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her, his hands beginning to move across her body.

But this time, it was different.

This time, there was the cold water between them, creating a new kind of sensation, creating a contrast that made every touch feel electric. His hand came up and cupped one of her breasts.

He began to play with her nipple, using his fingers to circle the hardened peak, watching as it tightened even further in response.

Morgana made a small sound....a whimper, a gasp, something that was pure sensation and response.

His other hand moved to her other breast, and he gave it the same attention, cupping it and playing with the sensitive nipple, feeling the way her body was responding to him despite the fever.

She didn’t push him away.

Instead, she pressed back against him.

Thorne bent down and kissed her shoulder, his lips finding the delicate curve where her shoulder met her neck. He kissed along that line, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling the rapid pulse of her blood beneath his lips.

Then his mouth moved to her neck.

He kissed the side of her neck with the kind of intensity that suggested he was memorizing every inch of her with his lips. His teeth scraped gently against her skin, and Morgana’s head tilted back, giving him better access, responding to him with an openness that made something inside him roar with satisfaction.

His hand continued its work on her breasts, cupping and playing with it but that didn’t satisfied him.

Then his other hand moved downward.

Through the cold water, his fingers found the place between her legs. He adjusted her position carefully, spreading her legs apart....wider, wider still.....until she was completely open to him.

Morgana’s breath caught.

She tried to close her legs, instinctively trying to pull away from the intensity of what was about to happen.

But Thorne’s voice stopped her.

”Shush,” he murmured against her neck, his breath warm against her cool skin. ”Morgana, spread your legs. Let me in. Trust me.”