Page 104 of Lost in Fire

“I never thought we’d have this again,” she whispers against my mouth.

Neither did I. The admission stays locked in my throat where it can’t complicate things. But she reads it in my expression anyway—she always could see through my walls like they were made of glass.

She takes my hand, leads me toward the bed. No ceremony, no discussion. Just two people who’ve been separated too long finally admitting what they want.

My shirt hits the floor first. Her fingers trace the network of scars across my chest, mapping damage and healing with equal fascination. When she looks at me like this—like I’m something precious instead of broken—it does things to my control I’m not prepared for.

Her own shirt follows. Pale skin marked with faint scales along her shoulders, catching the light from the window. They often surface when her emotions run high. Dragon traits she’s always hidden, always controlled. But she lets me see them now.

“Beautiful.” I run my thumb over the shimmer of scales beneath her collarbone. They’re warm, almost hot.

Her exhale shudders. “Hargen…”

The way she says my name almost undoes me completely. I pull her down to the bed, desperate to touch every inch of skin she’s offering. She straddles my hips, hair falling around us like a silvery curtain. The scars on my chest press against the softness of her stomach and I forget how to breathe properly.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Her hands brace against my shoulders, eyes searching my face for pain or hesitation.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” I say, pressing my hips up so she can feel the hard ridge of my shaft.

She laughs, but it breaks in the middle. Tears threaten at the corners of her eyes. “God, I missed you.”

“Show me.”

She does. Slowly at first, learning the new map of my body where burns healed and muscle rebuilt itself. Every touch careful, tender. Like she’s trying to store this moment in case it disappears again.

But careful doesn’t last. Not when I arch into her hands, not when her breathing goes ragged, not when the gold in her eyes spreads until they’re pure molten fire. The scales along her shoulders darken, spreading down her arms in intricate patterns.

She’s gorgeous like this. Dangerous and perfect and completely mine.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” She pauses, hands flat against my chest, her body still intimately connected to mine as she presses her mound against my throbbing erection.

“Ask.”

“Among my kind, there’s a way to make this permanent.” Her voice drops, husky with desire and something deeper. “A marking that binds us beyond blood, beyond magic. Something no one can break, not even death.”

I know exactly what she’s talking about and it thrills and terrifies me in equal measure.

My pulse hammers against my throat. “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking if you’ll accept my mark. Be my mate in the eyes of dragonkind.” Her eyes search mine, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen her. “It’s not something I can take back, Hargen. Once I mark you, you’re mine. Forever.”

Forever.

The word sends my mind into a tailspin. It’s the thing we’ve never been allowed to have.

“I’ve been yours since the moment we met.”

Relief transforms her expression. She leans down, kisses me with desperate gratitude, and I feel her dragon rising fully. Scales cover her shoulders now, her spine. Her skin burns against mine.

“When we reach the peak together,” she whispers against my lips, “I’ll mark you.”

The promise sends fire through my veins. I need this—need her claim on me, need the permanence, need something that can’t be broken by circumstance or politics or time. Half sitting, I reach for her, eager to make this real at last.

“Let me,” she whispers, gently pushing me back against the pillows. “You’re still healing.”

I start to protest, but her finger against my lips silences me. With deliberate slowness, she sinks down until she’s grinding against my cock, her weight a delicious pressure. The last of our clothing falls away under urgent fingers.

My breath catches at the sight of her, just as it always does. Pale skin covers soft curves that beg to be touched, full breasts tipped with cherry pink nipples that demand attention from my mouth, the triangle of pale curls that cover her mound.

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