Page 37 of Dragon's Flame
She knew it was true. And because it was, so was the inverse—he hadn't touchedanyonein eight hundred years.
“Would you...like to touch me?” she asked, and his head snapped to attention. “Not any place that has clothes on,” she added quickly, because he seemed ravenous. But then she bit her lips and moved to straddle his strong thighs, a few inches short of grinding distance.
“Of course,” he whispered in answer, and reached for her hand.
She was surprised by that—even more when he brought it up and rubbed his face against her palm. His five-o’clock shadow had become stubble, because of course it had—he was the most manly man she’d ever met—and then he twisted her hand so that his lips fell on her inner wrist, kissing her there, his increasingly wild eyes dark on her.
Using his lips to touch her was a technicality, and she knewheknew it, but as his hot breath rolled against her naked arm, she found she didn’t care.
Which was good, because he licked her next—a slow, deliberate stripe. His eyes closed. His breath shuddered. And she knew,knew—he wanted to devour her. Only...
”I’m covered in sand,” she protested, with a laugh, trying to dust off any place his lips might roam next.
He stopped her, catching her other arm, using it to pull her closer, and she went with the motion. “Do you think I would care?”
“Probably not. You do have an air of ‘just released from prison’ about you.”
“Quite right.” His hands slid up her arms, then skipped her short sleeves, to cradle the back of her neck, bringing her the final few inches in. “Let me taste what I have missed,” he whispered, and set his lips on hers.
28
TARIAN
Somehow, some way, that one kiss made everything that had happened to him bearable. His lips touched hers. His tongue pressed in. She allowed it. And then—he melted. Centuries of resistance and fear fell away as he tilted her to fit him better. He kissed her with the kind of longing only one’s mate could possess, and he knew she felt it too, because she leaned forward like she was falling into him at the same time as she rose up to come nearer, right before both her hips and her tongue were pushing down.
He could feel the connection between them, reeling them together, closer than he had ever been, since—since Seris—and he was assaulted by memories. And he felt like a traitor though he was certain he was not. He pulled himself away, staring at her, half in shadows, half in firelight, watching her pulse thunder at her throat.
“Are you all right?” she asked him, running a hand behind his neck, into his hair.
“Yes. It...is just like when a starving man eats too much at once.”
Kenna lightly sighed. “And you know I’m not her?”
“I do. But—I still feel all the same feelings, swirling inside.”
She twirled a lock of his hair at the nape of his neck and teased, “Maybe you’re just fickle,” making him sorrowfully shake his head.
“I do not know how to be untrue.”
She took his face between her hands, and made him look up at her. “I know that, Tarian.”
“How? You yourself said we just met?—”
“Because with any other man in the world we’d already be fucking.” She reached down and took his hands from where they’d slipped away from her in panic, bringing them to her waist above her dress. “I don’t want this if you don’t. I do have some pride.”
He let his hands settle on her, right above where her hips flared. “And what if I want it too much? What if one night’s not enough?”
She brought a fingertip up to rest it on his lips before trailing it in a long line down his chin, and neck. “Stop pressing—and take what you’ve been given.”
And it made absolute sense—because of course, his mate, in whatever form she took, in whatever life she lived, was wise. He reached up for her face again, brought her down to kiss, then wrapped an arm around her, to make her rock against him.
29
KENNA
From here on out, Kenna didn’t think shecouldtell him no—even if she wanted to. Being around him was like holding on to a live wire. The shock had already hit, running straight into her bones, but as long as she didn’t let go, as long as she kept herself in the current, it didn’t hurt. It would only burn when she broke contact.
His mouth pulled at hers until she forgot how to breathe, and when he let her come up it wasn’t any better, because his lips found new places to bite and suck, kissing down her neck, and up her clavicle. His hands roamed like they couldn’t get enough of her—he was acting like a man possessed—and when they reached her shoulders and she felt him take hold of the fabric she managed to say, “Zipper! In the back!” in time, before he ripped the whole thing off.
