Listening, Collin heard the heart that beat inside every song ever written. The rhythmic magic that had created the first melodies. Awed, he almost forgot about the men. His hard-on. His need.Until, with a lush sway of their hips, the two dragon men turned to one another, keeping their arms twined around each other’s waists, and began to dance. Not a slow, sissy, semi-ballroom dance, either. No gentle, fairy-foppish swaying around.Thisdance? Pure sex in motion. These dragons flowed around each other as if each was starving and the other a banquet. Strong, solid hands, nails sharp as claws, raked up arms and down long, lean backs. Chests pressed hard enough together to melt and become one. Collin could see both had erections as rampant as his own, obscenely thick and swollen tight. They were worth a second, third, fourth and more look, as they appeared to be somehow ... different. Pointed. Sharp?Logically, the sight should have re-awoken Collin’s sense of self-preservation, well and truly honed from use. He should have run out as fast as possible, getting as far away as he could, his own hard-on shrinking down to limp meat.Not so. Collin felt his stomach twist with a spear of wanting. It didn’t matter who these creatures were, or if he believed them to be real. He only knew he wanted them. Immediately.The dancing dragons, however, didn’t seem inclined to share. Yet. Still far too wrapped up in one another. Grinding their dagger dicks into thighs and groins, thrusting and jerking. Their faces went slack with lust even as they lit up with fire and passion.Their hands grew rougher. Nails tore through fabric and left bloody trails on skin. They laughed at the sight. The smaller, paler dragon man bent to lap up crimson trails --drops that glowed like fire berries on his tongue before he swallowed.Coals began to burn in Collin’s gut. He choked back the urge to get up. Run to them. Join in. But not yet, he knew; again, just somehow knew. He had to see it all first. Understand what he was getting into. The tiny bit of his mind still able to think agreed.The men glanced at him once, warning him off, underscoring his thoughts.It isn’t time yet.Soon, though. Soon.Collin held back a groan of pure, aching needand waited. Watched. As eager for the dance as a dying man for one more
chance at life. He drank deeply of everything he could see as they put on their show. Jerking together, losing their rhythm just enough to let him know they’d lost control, as well. Deliberate sweeps of fingers turning into frantic digs and scratches.They kissed, fangs scoring lips. The blood that trickled out burst ablaze, curling around their mouths and spreading fiery tendrils over their cheeks. Dancing up into their hair. Forever flickering among the shapes of men, dragons, and plumes of flame.