Page 302 of Dragon Slayer

Her hand slid up his naked shoulder – he shivered, leaned into the touch – and found his nape, fingers threading through the hair there. “Come here,” she said, so gently, and he leaned down, grateful, to kiss her again.

He loved kissing her. It was lush and unhurried. She lifted into him when he ran his tongue behind her teeth. Pressed her breasts to his chest, skin to skin, and – oh, that was…

He opened his mouth against hers, panting. Her pulse raced against his hands, under thin skin and rib bones delicate as a bird’s. He still wore his pants, but he lay between her parted legs, and he could feel the heat of her. Could smell that she was ready…ready for him to push through his doubt and touch her.

How many nights had he appeared to her as nothing but a conjuring? Wishing he could touch. And now he hesitated.

She pushed both hands through his hair and pulled him down to her, even closer. Took his lower lip delicately between her teeth, andbit.

He groaned. “God. Darling…” His response was immediate, and automatic; his spine moved like a whip-crack, a slow undulation that rubbed them together in all the right places.

The last bit of hesitance evaporated, and his hand slipped up the fretwork of her ribs to cup her breast.

She breathed a small, almost-startled sound into his mouth, and he drank it in; cupped her, squeezed, and drew out a whimper. He thumbed the hard bud of her nipple and she whimpered; her legs tightened on his hips.

She was reacting to him. Shewantedhim.

He trailed kisses down her throat, across her chest, moving over her like a panther. Bolder, hungrier. Salt taste of her skin blooming on his tongue, scent filling his nose; still sick, but not for long, no. He would heal her. He would make herhis.

His hand slipped down between her legs and found her slick for him. He wanted to put his mouth there, so he did, shouldering her thighs wider apart, his hair falling around his face so all he could see, and smell, and taste was her.

He could have stayed there an hour, listening to the pleading sounds she made, feeling the rough scrape of her nails on his scalp. Giving her pleasure like this, hearing her ask formore, Val, oh Godleft him so hard he was panting against her sex, grinding his own hips mindlessly against the mattress.

When he lifted his head to take a breath, she tugged at his hair. “Val. Val, come here.”

His fangs ached, and he couldn’t take a deep breath, and he needed to come, and rational thought was out the window, and…That sounded like a brilliant idea.

He prowled back up her sweat-sheened body and cupped her face; kissed her. Too hard, too deep, too much – but she gave it right back, rising against him like the tide, nails dragging down his back. He could feel the scratches she was leaving; already wanted to turn and admire them in the mirror. That was his mate, his woman; she’d been the one so turned on she marked his flesh.

But later. Later.

Mia followed the lean dip of his back with both hands, until they slipped into the waistband of his pants and she could palm his ass. He gasped and his hips jerked, grinding down into her. She was so wet that her slick bled through the thin fabric. God,God.

He closed his eyes and panted against her mouth. “Please.” Tremors skated across his skin. He felt fevered. He felteverything. “Mia,please.”

“Shh, I know, I know.” Her voice was wrecked. She pushed his pants down his hips and wrapped a sure hand around his cock. Guided him, and then…

He growled when he entered her. She sighed, and she gave, and the hot, slick grip of her around him punched the air out of his lungs.

He hovered over her, unmoving, breath caught in his throat, for a seemingly endless moment, trying not to come right away.

She seemed to know it, murmuring low and soothing, words he was too overwhelmed to comprehend; petting his sides, and hips, and shoulders. Tucking his hair behind his ears.

Slowly, slowly, teeth clenched, he eased back from the edge.

“…Val. Val, I’m right here.”

He cracked his eyes open, and even through a blur of tears, he could make out her face, her half-lidded eyes, and her bruised mouth, and the long line of her throat, bared to him.

She was. She was right there.

With a low, deep purr, he settled over her and began to move. It was a rhythm engraved in his bones, even if he hadn’t often been the one to set it. His hips knew the way to hitch, and roll, and her thighs were strong around them, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs. He tucked his face into her throat, pressed open-mouthed kisses against her pulse, where the scent of her blood was the strongest.

He’d been fucked more times than he could count, but nothing had ever been like this.

When he came, the astral plane tried to take him, its flickering stars and vast black reaches. But he fought it off; he wanted to stay in his body, to feel the wracking pleasure that shifted through him in tides.

Mia made a low, throaty noise, just after him, her walls clenching tight around him. He wanted to drown. And for a little while, he let himself, just drifting.

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