Page 33 of Chase Me

“Please, Jakob.” She took in a shuddering breath. “Please let me come.”

There it was. That's what he'd been waiting for.

He licked her one more time, and stood, not for a second pausing the thrust of his fingers inside of her. Her eyes were screwed shut tight, her little frown clenched between her teeth.

“Ciara, look at me.” This time her eyes flew open.

“Please,” she moaned.

“Let me hear you say it again. Ask me for it, Ciara. Ask me to let you come.”

“Asshat.” She panted. “Please let me come.”

He chuckled. Even now she had a potty mouth and knew how to use it. He loved that. “That’s what I want to hear, my curvy, sexy witch.”

He slid his free hand between her pussy lips and flicked his thumb across her clit in time with his fingers inside of her. Hebent his head and whispered in her ear. “Come for me, witch. Come now.”

Her entire body locked, the final command contracting her muscles. She convulsed with the power of the orgasm. Her pleasure was his, and it was the most beautiful god-damned thing he’d ever seen.

He had every intention of sliding his cock into her and letting her milk him with her heat, come to the pulse of her around him. But she was too hot, and it was too late. He groaned her name and his cock jerked. He came on the stone beneath her ass.

When her body finally released the grip it had on her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

They were both gasping for breath, floating on cloud nine, ten, and eleven. What the hell kind of sex was that? Sex wasn’t even the right word for it.

If anyone was peeping out their windows, Jakob’s body would block their view of Ciara. But they had more problems than any voyeurs that might be around. He’d been stupid to allow them to be so exposed and defenseless with the possibility of more demon dragons around.

Man, he was a complete dumbass for letting his instincts outweigh his good judgement. He could have claimed her in the safety of his home, in the comfort of a bed, instead of shoving her up against a metal pole and taking her like the base animal he was.

He would make it up to her. She would have the finest, softest bed, and he would fill her room with every flower in the country. He would make love to her, over and over, repenting with his body for not treating her properly this first time.

He tugged her ripped dress around her thighs and yanked his own pants back on. “Ciara, love. Let me take you home.”

She didn’t say a word, but let her legs drop and leaned back, pulling away from him. He missed her warmth and her touch immediately.

She pushed his hands away and straightened her clothing herself. The new dragon tattoo shimmered on her neck and shoulder, remaining uncovered by the tatters of her clothing.

The necklace at her throat glimmered, asking him to reach out and touch it. “Is this charm important to you?”

Perhaps he would get a new tattoo to match. He lifted the piece from her neck and the metal disintegrated—no, it shifted, turning into a handful of multi-colored dragon scales.

The First Dragon’s relic. It had been right under his nose all along.

The scales swirled as if picked up by a gentle breeze and scattered into the night sky.

Ciara smacked his hand away and grasped for the chain, but it dissolved in her fingers and joined the rest. “Hey, what did you do to my necklace?”

“You did an excellent job hiding it from me. I don’t know how you did that. Enough of your games. Bring it back, Ciara. What’s yours is mine now.”

“What?” The well-loved doe-eyed look vanished from her face.

He should have thought of that before. Sure, he never expected to have a mate. But the human ritual of marriage would have sufficed. If she wouldn’t give back what rightfully belonged to him, he’d take it back. If they married, what was hers would also then belong to him.

The AllWyr council would have something to say abouthim marrying. The other three Wyr’s would be all up in arms about him having mated anyway. Might as well go big.

“Do not go and get all, all, bossy with me, mister.” Ciara poked him in the chest.

He’d imagined them walking back to his villa, chatting and holding hands. But he’d gone and pissed her off instead. She was awfully cute all riled up like this.

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