Page 51 of Phoenix Falling
IMOGEN
I’d been dreaming about Demetri’s kiss since the moment our lips had stopped touching the last time. We’d seen each other at training, hung out in the dorm reading to Clara and talking—with everyone’s eyes drilling into our backs, it seemed—but there’d been no time alone. When he invited me back to his suite for another dinner, I couldn’t wait to say yes.
It seemed Demetri felt the same way. The second the door was closed behind us, he took me into his arms and kissed me. His body was so powerful, his arms secure, his shoulders perfect for digging into. It was like a dream that a male this gorgeous, this intense could want me, but the evidence was there in the urgency of his kiss and of his body. I might be human—or had been human—but we had the same parts as the Archai, and Demetri’s cock told me quite clearly that he desired me.
Before the urge to go further could take me over, I stepped back. Demetri followed, placing a quick peck, then two on my lips before fully releasing me. His reluctance set off bubbles of pleasure in my belly.
“Please tell me you like pasta,” he said, fingers twining with mine.
I let him lead me toward the kitchen. “If it’s a carb, I love it.”
He laughed. “Good to know. Let’s see what I can do for that.”
We spent an hour talking while he made chicken piccata, his ease in the kitchen filling me with envy. The conversation flowed naturally from one topic to the next, anything and everything seeming to be open for discussion. I tried to stick to neutral comments, topics, not wanting the evening to get too heavy too fast, but the more I delved into Demetri’s mind, the more I loved the way he thought. Let’s face it, not every two-thousand-year-old male was going to have modern thoughts about politics, justice, women and their role in the world, nor did I expect that Demetri had held those views for his full two millennia. That he’d seemed to change his opinions with the times impressed me.
“You’re a dragon shifter?” I asked as we sat with our plates at the tiny table nestled into a corner of the living area.
“Yes.” He poured ice water into our glasses. “How is the chicken?”
I chewed and swallowed. “It’s fantastic. Can you cook all my meals?”
“I’d love to.”
For a moment the air froze, the words registering in my mind, my response just as evident.
Demetri cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, you didn’t.” I couldn’t let him think that. Fiddling with my fork, I admitted, “I was worried that I had made you uncomfortable, actually. I wasn’t sure if I sent my response to your words over to you or managed to keep it in my own head.” I waved the fork in the air vaguely. “Telepathy… It’s still taking some getting used to.”
He propped his chin on his palm, his intent gaze seeming to drill deep into me. “What was your response?”
A blush heated my cheeks.
“Now I really want to know.” Demetri’s smile made me think of a stalking lion.
Be honest.“I was thinking I’d love that too.”
He couldn’t have shown more satisfaction if he had been that lion and finally caught his prey.
We finished dinner, Demetri telling me about his dragon, about what it felt like to fly, to share his body with another being. “I’ve read the myths of humans, their tales of shape-shifters and what they imagined it was like to have an alternate form. What I don’t think they can comprehend is the separateness—animal and male. Two independent beings relying on each other for life.”
“But in the same body?” I asked.
“Yes.” He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “I know it seems strange, but my animal is my companion much as Lyris has been my companion my whole life, except he lives inside me. When I change form, he becomes the primary being and I dwell inside him, sharing the form but allowing him to take the lead. To be free.”
He was right; it wasn’t something I could understand. My gift was a product of my brain, not a separate being. The idea of someone else living inside me was completely foreign, but then, so was the idea of my body changing to a different shape and back again.
I began gathering our plates. “How often do you change?”
“Fairly often.” Demetri took the dishes from me and walked them to the sink. “If not, we both get antsy.”
I thought of something else and giggled.
“What?”
“It’s silly.”
Demetri smirked. “Be silly then.”
