Page 62 of Dragon Awakened

His growl is even louder than it was the last time I told him that, and I kiss him again, laughing beneath my breath.

"What? I am," I remind him.

But he's not joking.

"Ember," he says, parting from my mouth. "You have to know you're it for me. You always have been--I just couldn't say it then."

Overwhelming sadness shadows my heart. I always felt the doomed nature of our affair, back when we were together. It pressed on my heart to the point where I could scarcely breathe.

"I know."

"But that's all behind us now," he promises, and it is, isn't it?

He left the Air Kingdom and his toxic family. He did what I always secretly wanted him to do. He gave up his crown and his responsibilities.

He chose me.

So why can't I help feeling like whatever lies ahead of us is going to be even harder?

"We were meant to be," he tells me.

I feel the truth of it in my bones, but I also feel the grief of all the time we lost.

I'm done mourning, though.

When I crash my mouth to his once more, it's with renewed fervor. I'm in charge today. I'm the freaking Shadow Queen's heir, for fuck's sake. His position as the younger prince of the Air Dragon Kingdom doesn't matter anymore.

Everything I ever felt but had to hide--that's over now.

Parting my lips, I dart forward with my tongue, daring to take what I want from him in a way I might not have back before. He groans in appreciation, letting go of my hips to skate his hands up my back and sides. Memories rise up in my flesh as he cups my breasts exactly the way I've always liked.

"So gorgeous," he breathes as he slips a hand up under my shirt. "I love your skin."

I muffle a ghost of a sob. I love his skin, too. Releasing his mouth, I kiss my way across his stubbly cheek, reveling in the burn. I suck on the point of his jaw before gliding my lips over his throat. He tastes the same as ever, and yet completely new.

He tilts his neck to the side, inviting me to bite at the point of his pulse, and I do. His fingers tighten on my breast, and sharp, achy pleasure shoots straight to my swollen clit.

"Thought I'd never touch you again," he rasps, and Jesus Christ, is he really going to make me cry when all I'm trying to do is fuck him?

I scrape my teeth over his collar bone almost hard enough to draw blood, and he gasps.

"Fuck, yes," he breathes, and I do it again and again.

His desire reverberates through our bond, meeting my own and driving it even higher. Sharp need gathers between my thighs, our connection demanding satisfaction in a way that's hungry and raw--and made all the more so by the tumbled-up mess of my emotions for this man.

The best I can, I struggle to stay present, though, focusing on the feeling of his body underneath mine, the heat of his hands and the sound of his moans. Greedy for more, I tug at his shirt, and he releases me long enough to reach behind his neck and pull off his shirt.

He's a feast for the eyes--miles of sculpted, tan muscle stretching out over his perfectly developed pecs and abs. I run my nails over all that beautiful flesh, forcing down another pang inside my chest. We were always so rushed to be together, usually reduced to having frantic, desperate sex in his car or his garage. I had so few opportunities to get him completely undressed.

Well, I'm not wasting the chance to see him naked now.

I tear at the rest of his clothes, and he's only too happy to oblige. I fumble to get the fly of his jeans open, and he lets out another rough sound of pleasure as the pressure on his cock is released. Through the fabric of his underwear, he's achingly hard and already leaking, and deep inside, I spasm with need.

"Off," I breathe, and he lifts his hips, helping me to shove all his offending clothing down.

His naked cock springs free, and is possible to be this horny and this nostalgic all at once?

"Fuck, I missed you," I murmur, and yeah, it's messed up that I find it easier to say that to his cock than to say it to him.

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