Mason stood and walked over to the door, grabbed the handle, and pushed it open. He came face to face with the one man he wanted to avoid. Grant tumbled over into the room. Water from the outside storm dripped down his face. He pushed up onto his knees and looked directly at him.
The smell of blood and vomit attacked his senses. He hissed and started to examine his mate. A large hand-shaped bruise marked one cheek. The side of Grant’s face was puffy. Blood dribbled from his swollen lip. Smoky gray eyes silently pleaded for help.
Mason let the anger surge through him. For the first time in awhile he felt something other than guilt and regret. The moment the other man fell through the door the burning rage ignited the flame. He would need the fire to keep him focused to make sure that no one ever hurt his mate again.
“Am I interrupting?” Grant asked. He tried to make the question sound casual, but there was a tinge of fear in the wizard’s voice. Grant’s eyes widened as he, too, must have heard the sound. Then he tried to smile, but instead winced in pain at the slight movement of his lips. “Can I come in?” he asked, wrapping his arms around his body. Technically, he had already tumbled into the room. Grant’s sharp mind normally picked up on those types of things, but he wasn’t focused.
Mason held the door open. Grant grabbed the door frame and tried to pull himself up. The blood around his wrists and the purple around the palms of his hands indicated more damage.
Uncontrollable rage tore through Mason as the reality set in. Someone had abused his mate, had left him bloody and bruised. Mason leaned down and picked Grant up. His mate loved books and learning. He spent little time exercising and building muscles. Mason didn’t care if he wasn’t physically strong. He had worried that others would pick on Grant and possibly hurt him, but his mate was one of the strongest wizards he’d ever met and Mason had met a lot. After all, wizards had tried to use his race to gain power and become stronger. It was one of the reasons wizards and dragons didn’t get along.
“Thanks, I’m not sure that I had the strength to stand. I crawled up the stairs.” Grant leaned into his chest.
“Crawled?” He eyed his mate, looking for more damage. “Is there something wrong with your legs?”
Grant bit his lip. He looked like a man that had said too much. “Something’s wrong with my ankle.” The tone was low and barely audible.
Mason sat Grant in a chair. He pressed gently on both ankles. “Does that hurt?”
“A little. I cast a spell to keep the pain away.”
Mason’s eyes shot up to look directly at Grant.
Grant’s eyes darted around the room. He looked like a cornered animal ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
“A spell won’t fix the damage,” Mason said in a serious tone. The guilty expression on the wizard’s face told the dragon shifter that Grant understood what he’d done. If Grant kept using the part of his body that was injured the damage would only get worse.
“You understand the risks?” Mason wasn’t about to let Grant off that easily. The sheepish look on his mate’s face indicated that he did understand the risk.
“Okay, let me look at it,” Mason said. Now wasn’t the time to push the subject. He moved down his mate’s leg and reached for the swollen part. He untied the white tennis shoe and slid it off his mate’s foot.
Grant hissed. He closed his eyes tight and braced for more pain.
Mason froze, gently holding the damaged leg. “The spell?” he questioned. Grant shouldn’t have felt pain with the spell.
“The pain spell has started to fade. That’s why I had to crawl up the stairs.”
“Good. The risks of using such magic could leave you crippled.” Mason tried to control the anger at both Grant’s attacker and at Grant. It seeped out a little into his voice. Wizards never used spells to heal. Their magic relieved pain. He’d seen wizards collapse after running on sprained ankles and fractured bones not allowing the pain to stop them. If he and Grant were fully mated, the wizard’s ass would burn. To use a spell to silence the pain should have been forbidden. Pain alerted a person to an injury. The worse the pain, the more the damage. It was a simple survival technique, but Grant had thrown that away and blocked the pain, denying his body the chance to heal.
Grant closed his eyes. “Crippled or dead. That was my choice.” He laughed, but the cold chuckle held no humor.
Mason reached out and touched the swollen cheek. Right now his mate didn’t need more anger. “What happened?” he asked.
The wizard looked away. “It doesn’t matter. I got away.”
“Please,” Grant said again.
The desperation and longing was too much to watch. Mason closed his eyes. Tonight he wouldn’t refuse his mate. He leaned in and captured Grant’s lips. His lips parted slightly. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue in. The kiss deepened. A moan filled the room. Mason pulled back, nibbling on Grant’s lower lip.
“I want you.” The confession was spoken in a low, deep voice. Mason slid his hand down, caressing Grant’s back.
“I want you too. I want this.”
Mason kissed Grant again. This kiss demanded his mate’s complete surrender. Control was lost as the frantic desire took over.
He pushed Grant down on the couch. He covered his body with his own, forming a protective shield over his mate, trying to let him know through touch that he would never be hurt, scared or alone again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Grant nodded. Doubt was visible within his passion-filled eyes, but he moaned and arched his back.
Mason ignored the hesitation and uncertainty. He slowly stripped Grant from the large terrycloth robe. Grant groaned and tried to help, but managed to wrap his arm in the sleeve. He laughed. Grant pouted. Soon he had the robe off of Grant’s body. The smaller man lay on the couch, naked and hard with eyes blazing.
Mason leaned down and pressed kisses up and down each leg. Then he spread them before placing tiny bites on Grant’s inner thighs. When Grant moaned and grabbed at his hair, he had to force the smile away. Mason wrapped his fingers around both of his mate’s hands and moved them toward his mouth. He kissed Grant’s bruised wrists.
The anger started to build at the sight of the dark purple marks. He felt the change as his eyes started to focus. He let part of the beast forward. He felt his tongue change. With the change came part of his magic. He used his saliva to lick the wounds. The bruises started to heal. He moved down Grant’s leg and pressed his tongue into the swollen flesh to speed up the healing. The swelling subsided as the ankle rapidly began to heal.
Grant’s eyes widened.
He rubbed each foot, trying to sooth his mate’s nerves. “It’s different for each dragon, but my dragon can heal. We are magical beasts.”
Grant reached for his shirt. Mason watched the smaller man undo each button with a focused determination. He looked up into Mason’s eyes with a hunger that threatened to eat him. Mason smirked. Grant couldn’t deny what he wanted. Soon their lips met and the gentleness changed to demanding and domineering. He attacked Grant’s mouth, possessing every part of his soon-to-be lover.
They weren’t going fast enough. He reached down and rubbed Grant’s cock. Their mouths connected as he stroked the hard shaft. The cock bounced up and hit Grant’s belly. He leaned down and licked the tip, tasting the pre-cum. He sucked the tip and pushed his tongue into the tiny slit as his fingers moved underneath. He pushed a finger past the tight ring of muscles. His other hand massaged the balls, twisting them as he continued to suck on the hot tip. He pulled away and Grant sat up and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.
Mason’s cock pressed painfully against the zipper of his pants. He pulled away and kissed Grant’s forehead. He wanted nothing more than to sink balls deep into his mate’s willing body.
“I need to get lube.” He held up a finger, silently telling Grant to stay on the couch.
He walked to the bathroom and pulled out the unopened bottle. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and walked back into the living room to fully claim his mate. There was no going back, but he’d worry about that later.
Grant’s eyes widened when he reentered the room. His hard, fat cock stood proudly nestled in a nest of dark curly hair.
Grant’s eyes continued to take in every inch of his shaft. Dragons had longer, fatter cocks. Something Grant seemed to only now realize.
Mason moaned as Grant’s pink tongue licked his lips.
He opened the bottle of lube and spread the liquid onto his fingers. He turned Grant over and pushed past the tight ring of muscle.
One finger and then a second finger joined it. Grant slowly lowered his body down on the fingers, fucking himself on them.
He looked back at Mason and arched an eyebrow up, silently asking if that was it.
Mason couldn’t hold back any longer. He poured lube onto his cock and lifted Grant’s leg up. One thigh rested on the side of the couch and his arms rested along the back. The inviting sight made his cock harder. With one hard push he rammed half of his shaft up and into Grant’s tight opening.
He stilled as the tight passage clenched around him. He rubbed Grant’s side.
“It’s hot.” Grant bit his lip. His hands grabbed onto the back of the couch.
Mason slowly pulled out and then gently pushed back in, sinking deeper inside.
Grant started to relax as he gently moved inside of his mate. Soon the wizard met each thrust as his balls slapped against Grant’s ass.
Grant leaned back and continued to ride him. He rubbed his waist, but allowed Grant to seek out his own rhythm. Satisfied that his mate had adjusted to his cock, Mason increased the pace, setting a hard but steady rhythm.
Grant moaned as the cock deeply penetrated his ass. “More,” he cried out.