Perla is a normal human female. She is NOT a dragon. The scales on her skin are a trick of the light, her shrieks of outrage are due to extreme sexual frustration, and many women need fire and flame play to enjoy sex. All of her idiosyncrasies can be explained.
Frey is a dragon shifter. He has waited centuries for his mate, and he won't lose her to delusions of humanity or to a reckless golden rival. He fought for his territory, and he will fight to the death for his mate. No one messes with a dragon from the Bronx.
Praise for Big City Dragon
"It was an incredibly sexy read, with one steamy moment after the other."
-- 4 Stars from Rasia, Long and Short Reviews
"Frey and Perla make sparks fly in both their human and dragon form. Be prepared for scorching sex scenes, and a great love story to boot."
-- Angi, Night Owl Reviews
"With subtle humor, Ms. Sax beautifully describes Perla's inner struggle to accept that she is a dragon and not fully human."
-- Candy, SensualReads.com
"...a book which contains flying shifter sex will always receive a positive review from me. Plus who doesn't love dragons? I recommend this short smexy story for dragon lovers who like it glittery kinky."
-- BookAddict, The Romance Reviews
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Big City Dragon
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Cynthia Sax
"The Lair is the sex club you're all excited about?" Carly shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing around her beautiful face. "Perla, we have a better chance of being fucked by vampires than we do of getting in. Look at this line."
Perla did more than look. She stood stubbornly at the tail end of the line, right behind a huge, tattooed man getting a pre-party blowjob from his anorexic date. The night air filled with moans and noisy slurps as the skinny woman-child kneeling before him sucked his fat cock.
Perla noticed with satisfaction how similar the woman's black halter top and short leather skirt were to hers, except the brunette accessorized with silver, not gold. She scanned the ladies in the line. Shit. All of them had silver jewelry. She slipped the gold bangles off her wrist and hid them in her clutch purse.
"I'm not spending Friday night in some dark alley, waiting to get my ass whipped by some dungeon master." Carly bent over to wipe a smudge off her shoes, and the obscenely short skirt of her crimson red dress pulled skyward, revealing the curve of her ass cheeks.
"I want some of that!"
"I'd whip that ass!" another man called out.
Her friend, accustomed to being admired, ignored them and straightened. "We should have made the trek to Manhattan."
"You know I don't feel safe there," Perla mumbled. She wanted, no, she needed to enter this club, although she didn't know why.
The tattooed man came noisily, his hips jerking forward. Cum dripped down the skinny woman's chin, the scent of sex flavoring the air, and Perla's need increased.
"You don't feel safe in Manhattan?" Carly snorted. "Yet you feel safe in the Bronx. You make no sense."
How could she explain that the Bronx felt like home? She didn't understand it herself, but after a lifetime of wandering, the moment she'd stepped off the number 5 train she knew she was where she belonged, and she hadn't left the borough since. That was over three months ago.
"The hell with this." Carly left the line and headed toward the metallic silver club doors.
Typical Carly. Perla followed, floating on heels so high she felt like she was flying. As she moved, the fragrance in the air deepened, warming to a tantalizing, smoky musk. His scent. She shivered with erotic delight.
"We should stand in line." That was what normal people did, and Perla was normal. She flexed her fingers. She was.
"Relax. I'm asking how long the wait will be." Carly tugged on her barely-there dress, lowering the already low neckline, her big breasts threatening to escape the body-clinging material. "Hey there, big boy," she purred, giving the bouncer a fuck-me smile.
The big man's dark, almost animalistic gaze skimmed over Carly and landed on Perla. He stared at her as though he saw within her very soul, unveiling all the oddities she couldn't tolerate in herself.
Strong, the judgmental voice inside her whispered. Perla returned his stare, lifting her chin defiantly, silently daring him to comment upon his findings.
The bouncer's lips twitched, and he bowed his head slightly. "ID," he growled, holding out one large paw to Perla.
No one, male or female, ignored Carly. She glanced at her friend. The beautiful blonde lifted her shoulders, her expression reflecting Perla's confusion.
Fine. She'd play along. Perla rummaged through her purse and gave the bouncer her driver's license. "We're not asking for special treatment." She wasn't special, or different, or at all unusual. She was normal. "Simply how long the wait will be."
"No wait for you, Mistress." He handed her driver's license back and turned to unhooked the black velvet rope behind him. "You're in." He batted the air with his big fingers.
"No fuckin' way!"
"We've been waiting for hours!" A wave of protests rose up from the line.
"They're on the VIP list," the bouncer explained, and he opened the door. When Perla didn't move, he raised his thick eyebrows.
He called her Mistress. Had she been mistaken for one of the sex club's dominatrices? Perla frowned. "There must be some sort of mis --"
Carly pinched the sensitive skin at her elbow. "Yes. We're on the list. Thank you." Her friend pushed her forward. "Perla on the VIP list, who would have thunk it?" she whispered, taking her arm as they crossed the threshold, the door closing behind them. "Holy shit." Her mouth fell open.
Holy shit, indeed. The scene was erotic chaos. A giggling, naked woman ran past them, her bare breasts bouncing, chased by three equally clothing-impaired men. A man was draped over a table, his rosy red ass ravaged by the biggest cock Perla had ever seen. The extremely hairy giant wielding the massive cock grunted as he thrust with a savagery that made her wince.
Another woman stood against a wall, her long legs spread, and her wrists and ankles bound, as a tall, leather-clad man whipped her breasts, crisscrossing her dark skin with scarlet welts. She quivered and moaned with her eyes squeezed closed and her full lips glistening. A crowd of men watched, drinks in their hands, bulges in their pants.
"Hey there, beautiful." A tall stranger approached Carly. As she opened her mouth to respond, he kissed her, holding her face.
What the hell? Perla stared at them, stunned and aroused. The scent of sex and smoke and man swirled around her. Her pussy moistened, and she rubbed her thighs together in an attempt to ease her need.
"Ease it with me," a voice whispered in Perla's ear, and a large soft hand ran down her bare back.