For once, I thought being an orphaned slave would keep me safe. Yet when the dragon princes come for their promised bride, Lady Cordelia, they take me too. Why? Because they are immortal assholes who like to hoard.

But when Cordelia is killed, the dragons have a big problem: if they return without a human mate, they’ll lose their throne.

So we strike a deal. I play bride in exchange for my freedom. All I must do is survive the bridal trials, manage the mating mechanics, and remember that dragon royals are killers, not friends.

All I must do is not fall in love.

Dragons’ Captive takes place in Lunos, the world of Alex Lidell’s best-selling Power of Five novels. Expect spice, fated-mate bonds, powerful dragon shifters, and a fake relationship that turns all too real. Ready to be stolen away alongside Kit? Then one-click Dragons’ Captive now!


“Breathe and behave.” With one hand on the small of my back, Cyril spreads the cool viscous gel over my backside. His motions are swooping and just the right mix of firm and gentle to let me know he’s in charge without punishing. My body can’t help but react to the attention. Especially now, when Cyril’s touch slides up along the inside of my thighs. Higher. Higher. Any more and the skin he’s tending is going to become moist with more than just salve.

I wriggle. “That’s good. Enough.”

He chuckles softly. “Have I told you about a dragon’s sense of smell?” he whispers into my ear. “It’s nothing like a human’s.”

I try to pull away again. My skin is starting to tingle and it’s getting difficult to keep still. To keep from humiliating myself further. “Let me up. Please. I don’t like this.” Lie. Lie. Lie.

“Your scent says very much otherwise,” he says. His finger brushes the inside of my soft thighs, sliding up toward my folds. Need and heat rock my body, taking my breath away. A desire that I can’t stop spreads from Cyril’s touch and slides all through my nerves. He clicks his tongue knowingly. “It is a very bad idea to lie to a dragon.”

“I’m not…” I cut off with a gasp that turns into a mewl.

“Let me show you why.” Cyril strokes my sex with his fingers. Arousal so potent I feel dizzy spills into my blood, my body twisting about with need and pleasure I have no control over. It’s especially disconcerting considering I’ve never found pleasure at a man’s hands before. Didn’t think it was possible.

“You are so sensitive.” Cyril’s voice is filled with appreciation. “So decadently responsive.”

He strokes unabashedly between my folds, and my back arches. Sensation rushes from my sex to my breasts, which are suddenly heavy with need. Despite myself, my hips start to undulate. Forward and back, forward and back. The tender, belted skin on my backside and thighs now burns with an ache of a completely different kind, the kind I never imagined existed. Molten heat turns to pleasure. Burn twists to need.

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