Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Sander closed his eyes, testing the sincerity of her words. Yes, she spoke the truth. She was more than willing to give herself to him.
Him. Unworthy of her perfection. Disfigured beast destined to roam alone.
He sighed, the struggle not to give in to his doubts was great. Es Meus. He felt his Dragon vying for control. The great white beast demanded he claim her. Es Meus, the growl grew louder in his head.
“Noelle, if I, if we do this, I do not think I-”
“Shh, Sander, I want this, here and now, with you.”
She flexed her hips against his hand and loved the way his eyes closed on his groan of pleasure. She reached down the length of his body boldly with warm, gentle hands.
He watched as she tugged his briefs down and used her foot to push the material all the way down. When he was bare to her, she gasped with eyes wide and bright. She bit her lower lip and ran her hands over the swell of his cock.
Sander hissed as she stroked him tentatively. She opened her legs wide and wrapped her feet around his calves pulling him closer. Her lips touched his chest and moved upwards, traveling until they met his. Her woman’s warmth spread open and willing beneath him. All rational thought left his head.
The scent of her arousal wafted into his nostrils, the cinnamon and ginger spice seemed to roll off her in waves. Sander wondered if she’d taste of it. He bent his head and sucked on her lips, gentleness gave way to passion and soon they were both panting.
Her fingers found his chest. She traced the slightly raised, blue mark that sat there. Normals likened it to a tattoo. It was so much more, and it sat there in the shape of a rose, though small and closed, like a bud. Her hands caressed it, and to his shock, the thing stirred.
He watched her eyes widen, she felt it too. Sander knew if asked, he’d be forced to tell her the truth of it. He wasn’t ready for that yet.
His Dragon roared in his head as he opened her legs wide and pushed his hardness into her soft, untried body. She gasped with the pain of her first time, and Sander swallowed it with his kiss. He hated having to hurt her.
“I am so sorry, love, but it will be better now,” he kissed her softly and held her in his arms. Then he moved ever so slowly, so carefully, inside of her. He eased himself inside of her. Stretching her slowly to take all of him.
“That’s it, mi bellus, open for me,” he gasped and rocked his hips. She was so tight, his little minx, so slick and wet with her desire for him. The feel of her hot channel as it squeezed and stroked his shaft brought him to heights he’d only ever dreamt of.
She felt like heaven. Even his Dragon roared his pleasure inside his mind’s eye, the beast demanded he mark her, claim her now. Give her the sapphire rose. Es meus.
“Sander.” An excited little scream left her lips, and he knew she was close, so close to fulfillment. Pride filled him as he held her tightly and pumped his hips. He thrusted in and out, seating himself balls dip into her hot core, reveling in the sweet, honest innocence that was all her.
She scraped her nails down his back and arched pushing her breasts up. He licked one and the other, sucking on the tips, taking and giving pleasure as he never thought he could. But that was all he could think about, making her cum, giving her all he could to ensure her satisfaction. Grrr. Es Meus, the beast roared in his mind’s eye.
Her body seemed to sing for him. She was so beautiful, so attuned to him, moving with him, not against, opening for his touch. As if she was created for him alone.
Sander lost himself to her scent, her touch, the warm, wet feel of her as she squeezed his shaft, milking him for all he was worth in the heat of her pleasure.
“Es Meus,” he growled aloud at the same time she tensed and called his name. His body throbbed as he erupted inside of her. His teeth elongated, fangs sharp, but he stopped himself before he could bite down and mark her. No.
His Dragon roared in his mind’s eye and though Sander’s body was sated the frustration he felt was enormous. He had no right to claim the sweet little minx. She didn’t know what he was.
Noelle moaned under him and looked up with her lovely blue eyes. That sweet expression was like an arrow to his chest. He felt himself harden again but removed himself from her body before she could react. He wrapped her up in the soft, heather-gray blanket and pulled her against him.
“I’m not cold,” she said and took his face in her hands. She was sweet and soft and tired. Her blue eyes sparkled when she drew his face down and kissed him. Sander broke the kiss. Shame and anger welling inside of him.
“I, uh, I’m sorry, Noelle, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I shouldn’t have seduced you-”
“You didn’t. I mean, I wanted you, didn’t you want me too?” Hurt and confusion marred her beautiful face, and Sander’s guilt doubled.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I wanted you, hell, I want you now, but I’m not what you think-” He frowned when she interrupted him with a giggle and a wide smile. That smile made his heart squeeze. You are a cad, Sander Falk.
“Oh, that. But I know what you are, Sander, it’s okay really.”
“What is it you think I am, little one?” He smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. She couldn’t possibly understand what he was. Dragon. Broken. Maimed. Untouchable. Unable to mate.
“A Werewolf,” she gave him a knowing look, but Sander sat straight up in bed. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. The little minx.
“It’s okay, my father was a Werewolf. I know all about you-”
“Noelle-”
“It’s okay. I know Rafe Maccon, the Alpha of the Macconwood Pack. And he knows I know about you guys-”
“Noelle. Stop-”
“But really, Sander, it’s fine. I can keep your secret. You don’t have to be afraid of that with me.”
“Noelle, I’m not a Werewolf.”
“You’re not?”
“No, you amazing little minx,” he kissed her and laughed though his heart was surely breaking, “I’m something else.”
“What else could you be?”
“I’m a Dragon.”
Stunned silence was an expression he never truly understood till now. Noelle sat up, beautifully mussed and stared at him. Her eyes roamed over his body as she tried to come to grips with what he’d said.
“A Dragon?”
“An IceDragon to be exact.”
“What does that mean?”
“Get dressed.”