Page 32 of Drawn By Dragonblood
I clutched the throw around me, forgetting all about the steaming tea in my other hand as every cell in my body honed in on him. My desire to freeze the image in my camera’s lens to drool over later grew as strong as the one insisting I draw closer to him.
The sunlight glinting off his damp skin brought to mind the dragon from my dream, the scales I had writhed upon, and the story Elijah had told us about Blood Born walking the earth. Arousal, thick and wet, rose between my legs, and I should have turned away, taking my focus and thoughts off Elijah.
My feet remained rooted to the cold stone, growing numb as I continued to stare at his liquid movements and the powerful muscles of his thighs. The bulk of his shoulders rippled as well as the muscles lining his stomach. The bulge hugged by tight shorts came fully into view as he turned sideways.
Shifting weight on his bent left leg, arms stretched out, he lifted his gaze.
Pale eyes met mine, stalling out my ability to breathe.
Elijah held the stance, unmoving as we stared at each other in the morning light, the sexual tension spanning the distance between us and intensifying that need to draw closer to one another.
I could taste his sweat on my tongue, could smell the brimstone and cinnamon scent of him in the air. My body leaked arousal down my thighs.
For Elijah, not my husband.
Heart squeezing as though in a vise, I spun and hurried back inside. I felt like a cheating whore, drooling and dripping over another man when the love of my life?—
Jon stood at the top of the stairs, shirtless, bleary-eyed, and scratching his balls through his shorts. His face lit as his gaze landed on me, his slow, easy smile with flashing dimples lovely and so much more than I deserved. “Looks cold out there.”
“Mmm,” I hummed an affirmative and, tipping my head down to hide my hot cheeks, hurried into the kitchen. “Coffee?” I asked, my voice shaky.
“Fuck yes.”
I poured the rich brew into a mug, my hand trembling.
Jon wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Hey, baby.” I couldn’t turn, couldn’t let him read my face. God knew what he would think of the desire crashing around inside of me and without doubt showing in my eyes in the thin press of my lips.
My husband nuzzled beneath my ear, his hard length resting against my lower back. “Missed you this morning.”
I snorted. “Your dick did, you mean.”
“Not just this.” He nipped my lobe while grinding against me. “The bed was cold. Empty.”
“Sorry,” I whispered, my guilt intensifying even though I’d left him with good intentions.
“Don’t be. Enjoy the fact I’m addicted to everything about you. It’s a good thing I can’t get enough of my wife, isn’t it?”
“Mmm,” I agreed, my eyelids fluttering shut as he licked over my neck.
“Why are you so goddamned delicious?” He groaned the question.
I laughed lightly as he nibbled on my flesh, my insides jittery, an absolute mess.
“Want to take a bite out of you. Mark you with my teeth so the world knows who you belong to.”
The possessiveness in his tone made my pussy pulse but also rekindled that worry in my head.
Was he quietly staking his claim, reminding me I was his alone?
I should have turned in his arms and assured him of my love, but the memory of how Elijah’s presence had seemed to call to me from the sunbathed cliff made my soul restless.
“Gotta pee,” I said, slipping out of Jon’s hold as he reached for the coffee I’d prepared for him.
And wipe the evidence of my lust for another man from between my thighs.
I hurried up the stairs, Jon’s trailing gaze lifting the hairs on my neck.
