Page 37 of Taken By the Dragon Prince (Dragon Lords 4)

Utterly shocked, rendered speechless, she watched the cuff snap open with a sparkle of broken magic and tumble to the floor. Without a word, he unlocked the other one, and it too fell away.

Like a burst floodgate, undiluted power coursed through her veins on a euphoric wave. She gasped at the strength of it. It had been so long since she’d felt the undeniable sensation of potent magic that it was heady. Dizzying. Simultaneously familiar and foreign. Like the slice of her essential makeup that had been cut away had finally been fused back into place.

I’m free.

Their gazes met. The shadows of so many emotions shifted behind his eyes, she couldn’t pinpoint a single one.

I could sift away, and he’d never be able to capture me again . . . and he knows it.

His throat bobbed anxiously as he waited for her next move, offering her no explanation for his actions.

“Why now?” she softly demanded.

He took her upturned wrists and rubbed his thumbs over the tender flesh where her cuffs had been. “Because now I know what is true . . . or rather, I know what is false.”

“I don’t understand.”

He glanced around as though gathering his thoughts. “My memories . . . common sense . . . logic itself . . . insist that what I saw that nightshouldbe true.” He paused. “But then you lied in the pub when you said you killed Lizbet, so now I must reconsider . . . everything.”

It took a moment for his statement to sink in. Finally, she sputtered, “How did you . . . how could you . . .?” Then she recalled him once claiming to be able to tell whenever she spoke a lie. She thought he’d been joking. And whenever he’d called her out on a fib, she’d assumed it was an educated guess because he’d grown to know her so well.

But . . . could he really tell when she was being untruthful? “How are you able to do that?”

His lips quirked into a sly grin, and he bopped her on the nose. “That’s my little secret.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair.”

His smile grew wider, reminding her of the old Khalstorm, the one who used to tease her just before he kissed her senseless, and it sent renewed flutters through her belly.

“Is it safe to assume that you’re no’ going to sift away the moment I turn my back?”

She surprised herself by teasing, “Maybe you just shouldn’t turn your back.”

His smile turned mischievous. “Maybe I should tie you to my bed instead.” Her pulse quickened. “Yes,” his thick, rough accent sent a wave of heat through her. “I think that’s what I should do.”

An erotic shiver danced up her spine, and she marveled at the turn of events.He believes me. Somehow her confession had given him irrefutable proof of her innocence. A crushing weight suddenly lifted from her shoulders.

Lifting her hand to his cheek, she called on her magic for the first time. It came forth like the rushing of a river, illuminating her palm in a healing blue light that seeped into his cheek. He gazed at her with utter trust as his remaining wounds mended completely. Selfishly, she took a moment to appreciate the newly smoothed skin of his brawny chest, surprising a sigh. Then she touched the torque at his neck and invoked a reversal spell. She felt it the moment Rathmort’s spell broke. With a glitter of dying magic, the torque fell to the ground, crumbling to dust.

Eyes widening, Khalstorm gasped as though relieved of a heavy burden.

Before she could pull her hand away, he grabbed it and returned it to his cheek. “I doona know what I want more. To know the truth of what happened that night—I’m ready to listen—or to kiss you senseless, until we both canna breathe.”

Her body simmered with heat, her throat tightening. “If you don’t kiss me now, I fear I will never breathe again.”

Groaning, he folded his arms around her to draw her close and then they were kissing, their lips slipping together with a consuming desperation that was packed full of all the things they wanted to say but didn’t know how.

She went for his belt as he undid the tie of her robe, batting it open and baring her body. Then he pulled back, his pants still half undone, and let out a soft grunt of appreciation as he took in the sight of her. Her nipples hardened under the intensity of his rapt gaze.

“So fucking sexy,” he said under his breath, palming her right breast, kneading it gently. Leaning back on the sofa, her eyelids grew heavy. “Missed these beauties.” He gripped the other one, thumbing her nipple, sending waves of pleasure through her core. “So soft. So lush.” Then he dipped his head to take the hard peak between his lips. She let out a moan. “Need you so much.” He muttered against her flesh. “Never stopped needing you.”

His husky voice made her belly clench. She wasn’t sure if he realized he was saying these things aloud.

“Thought I’d go mad wanting you . . . and hating you.” He tweaked her nipple with his tongue, making her squirm, even as her heart broke from his words. She thought she would go mad from wanting him too, but what if she’d hated him as well. What would that struggle be like?

More kneading. More wicked flicks of his tongue. She began to pant.

“Fantasized constantly about you. Your skin’s even softer than I remember.” He skimmed his hand down her belly. “Did you fantasize about me?”

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