Page 43 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

"Show me," she demanded, eyes burning in the dim light. "How to touch you."

The order, so fucking bold, cracked something deep inside. My control—years of discipline, battle—frayed. Gone.

"Everything," I admitted, my voice thick. I cupped the back of her neck, felt the short silk of her hair. "But here …" I guided her hand to the base of my wing, where the scales were thin. "And here …" Under my jaw, where hide was softer.

Her touch grew bolder. Each stroke sent jolts through me. The heat between us wasn't just mine anymore. It poured off her. Her scent thickened. Rich with a desire I knew even without being human.

We hit the sleeping platform. I let her guide our fall onto the silks, wings flaring to soften the landing. She landed on top of me. Her weight, solid and real, drew a satisfied rumble from my chest. Her surprised laugh—sharp, precious—rumbled against my scales.

"Sorry," she said, but she was grinning. "Still getting used to … all this." She waved a hand vaguely at my wings, my tail. Me.

I traced her smile with my thumb. Watched the firelight on her face. "Me too,vrakasha. You break every rule."

My honesty seemed to catch her off guard. Her face shifted—unguarded, open—just for a second. Then she lowered her mouth to mine again, stealing my breath.

Her fingers found the buckles on my battle harness. Fumbled a little. I helped her, shedding the armor fast. Each piece hitting the floor made me more aware of her. Her scent. Her heat. The way her breath hitched when my bare scales met the air.

"Can I?" I asked. My fingers hovered near her shirt.

She nodded. Sharp. Quick.

I moved carefully. My claws could rip this flimsy stuff easily, and I did, cutting her shirt away around my gift. The harness I'd made was still there. Leather on bare skin. Possessive heat flared in me. Mine.

"Leave it," she ordered, seeing me reach for the buckles. "I like how it feels."

Fuck. That almost broke me. My free hand clenched the silk bedding, claws sinking deep. I was fighting for control.

Her pants came next. Gone. Leaving her in just the harness and some light wraps underneath. Leather against skin. Firelight on her curves, in the hollows. An image burned into my brain.

Forever.

"Your turn," she challenged. Her fingers went to the ties on my own pants.

I helped her. Lifted my hips. Let her strip the last barrier away. She sucked in a sharp breath when my cock sprang free, hard and flushed. She stared. There was no shame. Her eyes tracked the thick length, the obsidian scales giving way to pulsing flesh, the slick bead of need at the tip.

"Yes," she murmured. Curiosity mixed with something else. Hunger. "Please."

Her fingers touched me. Feather-light. Exploring. A growl tore from my throat. My hips bucked. Her eyes widened, not with fear, but satisfaction. Fierce. Matching mine.

"Show me," she repeated.

I guided her hand. Showed her the pressure, the rhythm. Her fingers—smaller, smoother than any Drakarn female's—on my sensitive flesh. It was almost too much. She bent her head. Her tongue flicked out, tasted the head of my cock. My control shattered. Gone.

With a snarl, I flipped her. Rolled her underneath me. Careful, but fast. Her startled gasp turned into a moan when my mouth found the pulse beating fast in her throat. I tasted my way down her body. Learned her sounds. Where she sighed. Where she gasped. Where a light scrape of my fang made her curse and arch her spine.

My tail slid between her thighs. Found her heat. Teased the sensitive flesh there. She was wet. Ready. Her body was honest. Her scent—human musk, mixed with pureHawk—drove me wild.

"Please," she breathed. Raw. Needy.

I lifted my head from her breast. Met her eyes. "Tell me what you want."

"You," she answered. There was no hesitation. She was reaching for me. "Inside me. Now."

The demand. It was straightforward. Fierce. Just like her. No games. Just need. Matching mine.

I positioned myself between her thighs. My cock ached. Needed to claim her. Possess her. But deeper than that … I wanted to please her. Worship her. Make this mean something.

"Look at me," I commanded. Needed to see her eyes when I took her.

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