Page 50 of Fated to the Grumpy Dragon
He dropped his hands, making to go.
“Rhyse.”
For a man as large as he was, Rhyse could start or stop moving scarily fast. As he did now, simply ceasing his movement. Waiting.
“I …”
Reaching out, I grabbed his arm. Pulling him back around.
“Yes?” he asked, meeting my eyes, letting me see into his gaze as he waited, nervous anticipation in his mind.
“Can we?” I cleared my throat as the words cracked my voice. “Can we try, I mean? It’s clear we’re both … you know. And if I’m stuck here, then …”
I tapped the scale to emphasize what I meant by that.
“I don’t want you to feel stuck here, Emma,” he said softly. “I want you to want to be here.”
“Right now, I know where Iwantto be,” I said bluntly. “And I can’t fight it forever. There’s something dragging us together. We should at least see if it’s … good? If we’re compatible? I don’t know. This is insane, but I—”
He cut me off, leaning down and in to kiss me fast and furious, backing me up until I was pressed against the cool stone of the side of the house.
We pawed frantically at one another for several long minutes. Then he pulled back an inch or two, eyes flicking open to watch me.
“What do you think?” he asked breathlessly. “Is there any compatibility there?”
It was half real, half tease.
“Ithink,” I said, one hand sliding down his shirtless upper body and over the waist of his pants, “you should stop asking questions.”
Rhyse’s reply was stolen away as my hand found what it was looking for.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emma
“Be careful with that,” he said, voice deep and throaty as I stroked the growing bulge in his shorts with the palm of my hand.
“Are you that fragile?” I teased, looking up at him.
Way up. This close, he towered over me. Smothering me with thick pecs, hard abs, biceps of steel, and shoulders so broad they should be encircling me.
I’d felt small before. But until Rhyse, I’d never felttiny. Not in a sexual manner. My breathing was deep. Labored. The intensity of the desire Rhyse put off attacked me like the waves did the cliffs below us. It pulsed, stronger and stronger, merging with my own rising heat and taking on a life of its own.
The heat of his body. The cool of the shaded stone. The rough prick of the freshly split wood on the backs of my legs. His sweat. My wetness. His cock. My hand.
His lips found my neck. I moaned up into him as he lifted my shirt clear of my head, tossing it aside. Taking a break from his cock, I ran both hands down his upper body, each muscle a different part of him to explore.
My bra disappeared. I didn’t even realize it was happening, I was so caught up in it all. My breathing was heavy, bordering on moans.
A finger teased one of my nipples, and I hissed, a smile creasing my face. For someone so large and so intense, Rhyse had the lightest of touches. He kissed down my neck and across my collarbone, dipping toward my breasts before coming up to cover my mouth with his.
I moaned into his mouth as both his hands found my breasts, his thumbs rubbing my hardened nipples.
“Fuck,” he ground out from clenched teeth as I returned one hand between his legs, enjoying the hardness of his cock, constrained as it was by his shorts.
We both went for the other’s pants/shorts at the same time. Our hands collided, and we looked up to find the other staring at us.
Laughter ensued at our mutual clumsiness.
