Page 43 of Fire Dragon
His dragon sign pulsed with the same speed. Her own dragon moved within her. She could feel his dragon.
The orgasm hit hard. She cried out as his body arched away from hers. His shouts mingled with every cry and moan of hers until her body simply lost its ability to do anything but collapse.
He eased onto her as well though supporting himself on his forearms.
He kissed her. “Thank you, Emma.”
Contentment flowed through her like she’d never known. She was beyond satisfied physically, but it was the warmth swirling over and around her heart that held her captive. She wanted to stay right here in this place forever, beneath him with his cock buried deep inside her, with his dragon moving over his skin and her own dragon becoming more real and present.
She cupped his face with her hand then leaned up and kissed him. “My pleasure.”
Literally, physically, metaphorically, mystically.
Dragon to dragon.
She released a deep sigh.
The thing she had desired for so long had finally happened.
She stayed lost in the euphoria of the moment, holding him close and caressing his shoulders until she realized how quiet he’d grown.
She eased back enough to look at his face. A crease had formed between his brows. Anxiety of the worst kind tightened her stomach. “What is it? I something wrong?”
“Nothing. I mean, Emma please don’t make more of this than it is.”
His words began to shatter the moment.
“What is it, then?” She’d asked the question before could weigh the wisdom of it.
Slowly, he began to pull out of her. He tucked a washcloth between her legs. This small act, as kind as it was in one sense, left her feeling empty.
He rolled onto his back. She would give him that. He didn’t immediately leave the bed.
All her doubts about him and his inability to be with a woman since his wife died, flooded back. She tried to block the sensations because she knew his fears were only exacerbating her own.
She didn’t feel entirely rational.
She had to think.
She didn’t want the next thing she said to be the wrong thing.
A thought popped into her head. She examined it and felt a faint warning that she should hold back. But she said it anyway. “I wish you could forget your wife.”
The moment the words were out, she knew she’d said the absolute worst thing she could have said to him. Even Logan had talked to her about how raw Liam was about his wife’s death even after almost two decades.
She attempted to backtrack. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be unkind. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I felt you pulling away.”
He spoke quietly. “I guess this was a mistake.”
He left the room and she didn’t try to follow him. It occurred to her that if she had ever desired to end a budding relationship with Liam, she’d found the swiftest, surest way. More power to her, God help her.
She had the worst, most profound insight that Liam wasn’t the only one with issues in their relationship.
She didn’t care about protocol or anything else. She put her thong and club-dress back on and headed out to the lakeside porch.
She was a good flyer and before she could talk herself out of it, she rose into the air and set a course for the hotel. When she was almost there, she contacted Liam with a brusque telepathic message.I’ll be in my rooms at the hotel. Apologies. I’m afraid this is on me. I’ll take my transport back on the caravan.
There was a long pause, then finally, he responded, Message received.
