Page 22 of Dragon Heir

“Should I call you professor?” he taunts. “Or would you rather, Master?”

“What do you want, snake?” I ask, baring my teeth and letting them go a little sharp.

He does the same, his amber eyes flicking toward where Vynessa is sitting, her head in a book. “I’ll tell you what we don’t want. We don’t want a war. But I’m getting the sense you don’t share that sentiment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, making the asshole chuckle. “I’m just spending some time here teaching. Why don’t you crawl back to Your Highness, snake?”

“Now I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just spending some time learning.”

With that, he’s gone. Even though I know what his ilk can do, he still leaves me blinking after him.

A war.

When my gaze rakes up Vynessa’s long, strong legs, it almost seems worth it. She’s wearing a skirt today, as if to tempt me further. I imagine hiking it up, pinning her to the wall, piercing that sacred veil of hers.

Then I’d be executed.

But it would be too late. Our heirs would reign. My lineage would forever be royalty.

Then the full implication of the snake’s words settle in. He knows. After all the secrecy and lies, after sending the girl to be raised by hapless humans, after sending her to one of the most remote areas of the kingdom for her formative years…

He knows.

The queen must be informed at once.

I turn away to do so, only to stop myself. What if this is a test? I glance around the library, settling the torrential gale that’s whipping up inside me into a slow breeze. Bradley might have said all that to see if I’ll go running to the queen. My attempt to protect Vynessa might further confirm her identity to our enemies, not to mention it would leave her unguarded, and lead them straight to Her Highness.

I need to be calm, and I need to be careful.

Even though my dragon is telling me to scoop up Vynessa and hurry her away to safety, I continue walking around the class, wasting everyone’s time until I can dismiss them. It’s the longest class I’ve ever taught, and I’ve taught some tedious subjects. At long, long last, I tell everyone to go home and rest, and it’s over.

Instead of leaving, Vynessa sits motionless in her chair, watching me. And damn it, I can see her energy shimmering just under the surface, the tension waiting to be unleashed, the desire burning white-hot in her eyes. She’s going to reveal herself to the world if I’m not careful. I lean back against the edge of a table and watch her gaze move down my body, settling at last on my crotch.

My body responds to the hunger in her eyes, desire building within me. But I hold myself in check, watching her squirm. Watching her thighs clench and unclench, her fingers squeezing the arms of her chair.

She breaks first.

“So what’s my punishment?” she asks.

“Your punishment?”

“For skipping class,” she reminds me. “You told me to see you after…”

“Yes.”

She gives me a coquettish smile. “Are you going to spank me?”

Her bravado hits me like a flame of frostbite from an ice-dragon’s mouth. I want to stride towards her, grab her arm, and drag her up from her chair. I want to spin her around and pin her to the table. Spank her ass until she wears the mark of my handprints like a glowing blacksmith’s brand while I wreck her in every delicious, devious way imaginable.

But even I’m not that selfish.

I prowl forward, circling her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I would,” she says, twisting around to look up at me with those fuck-me eyes.

I stop behind her, gripping her chair to keep my hands off her. Fuck, it’s hard not to give in. Her big, luminous eyes beg me to take her. She leans her head back, letting it fall against my groin. I suck in a breath, my hand flashing out to circle her throat. Her skin is burning like fever under my palm, but it’s still smooth and soft. Slowly, I draw my hand up her long, graceful neck until I’m holding her jaw.

Her heartbeat flutters like wings under my fingertips, her blood rushing with heat. Her lower lip begs to be touched. I indulge myself this once, running my thumb across it, a groan building in my throat at the softness of her mouth. A mouth I want to claim for my own.