by Naomi Sparks
It doesn't matter if sending her home would endanger my existence or even that of my crew. And it suddenly hits me that she is more important to me than myself already. More important to me than my crew. How the hell had that happened?
There's no way I am sleeping. I sit up and watch her as she sits in the dark, arms wrapped around herself. It isn't that cold out there yet, but sitting on the cool ground can't be comfortable. I wish I knew how to get through to her, how to make her understand that I’d sooner cut off my own arm than see her hurt.
Maybe I should tell her how I'm feeling. It can't hurt, can it?
I leave my tent and walk toward her to stand beside her. The others have retired for the night, and the fire is completely out, so it's quite dark. I can see in the dark as well as I can in the light, but I know she can't, so I try to make noise with my movements. The last thing I want to do is startle her.
Hearing my approach, she looks up at me. Tears trail down her cheeks and guilt twists my stomach. I kneel down beside her and reach out to wipe away her tears. Shockingly, she actually lets me do so. Her eyes are wide, and I wonder how much of me she can see in the dark.
"I need to be honest with you," I say. I'm almost afraid to speak more, afraid to shatter this moment. Especially since she is letting me stand with her without trying to run away. “I think you may be my mate—the woman I am destined to be with. You are the first woman I’ve met in nearly two millennia who makes me feel… Like this,” I finish, lamely. Modern men could probably explain it better. Maybe. But I don’t have the words. “If you still want to leave after you’ve promised never to reveal our secret, I will let you. Kidnapping you wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”
A short, guttural noise that might have been an almost-laugh escape her lips, but she doesn’t say anything.
"I want to be with you. I desire you more than I can express. I have to fight against my baser instincts every moment that I'm in your presence,” I say. “And it’s taking all of my self-control not to take you right now.”
She cants her head to look at me. And for the first time today, she actually looks interested in hearing what I have to say.
"It isn't safe for you to be around me if I lose control. And beautiful, the more time I spend around you, the closer my control comes to breaking." I want to touch her so badly, but I don't dare. "I need you to promise me that you won't betray me, betray us. Then you can return to your life, and I can go back to mine."
The tears have stopped, even though her cheeks still reflect the wetness in the starlight. She still doesn’t say anything. But she is paying attention, actually listening.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, studying every line of her face and jaw. I don't want to forget any of it. Anything about her. "I don't want to send you home. But if that's what you want, I just need you to promise me that you won't share our secret."
She watches me for a long moment, and it takes every bit of the willpower I've honed over my long life not to break the silence between us. To not demand to know what she's thinking. To not reach for her and drag her back into my tent.
Finally, she moves. She goes to her knees from where she's been sitting, moving slowly and just a little awkwardly like maybe she sat there too long. But still she doesn't speak as she edges closer. I force myself to remain still. Then she leans in close and presses her lips against mine.
Shock reverberates through my body. Of all the things I expected, a kiss wasn't one.
And then all thoughts leave me. I kiss her back, trying desperately to control the hunger inside of me so that I don't scare her. But her need for me seems to be fierce as well. And her kiss goes from exploratory to demanding. She slides her hands into my hair and then grips it, hard.
I growl, low in my chest. But it doesn't scare her, if anything it seems to spur her on. I pull her body close to mine, and she wraps her arms around my neck.
I'm so fucking hard it takes everything in me not to just push her onto the ground and tear off her pants. Thrust into her and bite her to claim her as mine. I would have if my crew hadn’t been so near. But I know that Kyra wouldn’t be thrilled come morning if I did.
Kyra is crawling on me, practically climbing on me. So when I carry her to the tent, she doesn't resist. She just wraps her legs around my waist and continues kissing me.
Once we get inside the tent, she pulls at my shirt, and I let her pull it over my head, but I still her hand when she reaches for the button of my jeans.
She looks up at me, a question in her gaze.
“Are you sure?” I ask her, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand. I want this more than anything I’ve ever wanted. But I can’t take advantage of Kyra if she isn’t sure. Just the idea of hurting her any more than I already have makes my chest tight.
“This is the only thing I’m sure about in the whole damn world right now.” Her voice is raw and strong. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you.”
That’s all I need to hear.
I undress her quickly down to her underthings, pausing to admire her breathtaking body for only a moment, needing to quench the desire burning me up from the inside. Then I kiss her again, sliding my tongue between her lips. I need to slow this down, but the desire to claim her is so strong it threatens to overwhelm me.
I move my lips to her neck, kissing and licking my way down to the spot where I bit her. Tenderly, I press my lips against that juncture between her neck and shoulder. She shudders beneath me, and I can smell her desire. Just as strong as my own.
It takes all of the self-control I’ve acquired in my very long life not to bend her over right now and rut her with abandon with my teeth buried in her neck, giving her the mating bite whether she wants it or not. The urge is so strong I have to force myself to take a deep breath.
I must slow things down.
I take a step back and finish undressing her. Goddamn is she beautiful. My cock jerks to attention at the sight of her perfect breasts, her long legs—far too long in the best way possible for someone so petite—and every feminine line of her beautiful body.
“Do you know how stunning you are?” I ask her, voice soft.
She blinks at me, and I see a touch of a different kind of fear in her gaze. A fear to trust. A fear to believe. A fear of something far more powerful than my dragon form.
I bend down and nibble her ear. “I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life. And love, I have had a very long life.”
In answer, her arms come around my neck, and she shifts so that she can take my mouth with her own. Aggressively passionate, she says with her body what she cannot voice in words.
Gently, I urge her to kneel with me, then help her to lay back on my sleeping bag. Desire is so strong her in gaze that I’m tempted to take her now. But I can’t. I want her—need her—to be fully satisfied. Fully sated.
I need to make sure she craves me like I crave her.
So I kiss my way down her neck again, down the sensitive inside of her arm. I press my lips against her palm and watch her move restlessly beneath me.
“Please,” she whispers, eyes locked on me and cheeks red.
I know what she wants. But I can’t give her that yet. Instead, I caress her breasts gently, before sliding my calloused thumbs over her nipples. They stand proudly, and I lower my head for a taste.
She moans beneath me, but I won’t be rushed. Knowing now that she wants me like this has given me the ability to control my own desire better. I move between her breasts, sucking and nipping and teasing her as she grips my hair and curses under her breath for me to take her already.
Instead, I lick and nibble my way down her stomach, then nip at her hip bone. Finally seeming to understand what I’m doing, she stills, not even breathing.
Holding her thighs open, I take a long breath, feeling myself go even harder at her womanly scent. Her desire is keen, and I when I slide a hand over to cup her sex, her wetness coats my fingertips.
She’s r
eady for me. But I still have to taste her.
I rub her little nub with my thumb, drawing a gasp from her. Then I move closer and dip my tongue inside her waiting heat.
“Faris!” she shouts. She may have woken the others, but I don’t give a damn. I couldn’t stop now if an army tried to come between us. Waking a few nearby dragons and a human woman isn’t nearly enough to even give me pause.
I lick her and kiss her and suck on her little nub. I dip a long finger inside of her while using my forearms to keep her open for my feast. She writhes and scratches and murmurs incoherent things. My rhythm builds, and her legs close around my head as she fights her own orgasm. Trusting me even enough for that seems to be something she is loathe to do. But I don’t stop. I need to feel her come before I take her fully.
“Faris, please!” she cries out, then I feel her body shudder with release, her sweet pussy milking my finger even as I swirl my tongue around her clit, drawing her orgasm out as long as I can.
Before she can recover, I move. I yank off my pants and then kneel back between her legs, gripping my cock. A sheen of perspiration covers her whole body, and she looks ravaged.
But we’re just getting started.
I kneel between her legs, and massage her breast, still stroking myself as she watches. Then I kiss her neck and caress her body until I feel the need stir in her again, until she starts moving beneath me, moaning for me again.
She reaches between us and grasps my cock gently. I hiss and rock into her hand, loving the feeling of her soft skin wrapped around me in a confident grip.
“If you don’t get inside me right now, I’m going to do something very violent to you,” she murmurs in my ear, her tone so sweet compared to her words.
“Are you, now?”
“Yes,” she replies, tone dead-serious.
I grin, almost tempted to see what she might do. But I can’t wait any longer either.
I let her guide me to her core, then ever so gently, I push inside of her waiting heat.
God. Damn. Her tight, wet pussy wraps around my cock, and I roughly thrust into her the rest of the way, unable to hold back. Kyra moans beneath me, her hips rising to meet me. Filling her fully, I pause and catch her eyes.
The wonder there is echoed in my own soul.
I begin to move, slowly sliding in and out of her body. She moves with me, our bodies in perfect synch. I press my forehead against hers, lost in the moment. Her nails dig into my ass, and I move faster.
I want to flip her over. Drive into her from behind. Dig my teeth into the sweet flesh of her neck and claim her. My mate. Mine.
“Faris!” My name is a cry from her lips, and I feel her whole body shake with the force of her orgasm. Her sweet womanhood milks my cock, and I thrust into her again and again, wild in my need to claim her, the need to come inside of her. But I can’t mark her. Not yet. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much my dragon screams I must.
My release hits me hard, and I hold her close as I come into her body. Her arms wrap around me, holding me, too.
After a long moment, I roll to my side, taking her with me. I don’t care that we’re a sweaty mess, I need her skin against my skin. But idly, I wonder if she’ll still be here in the morning.
Exhausted, we sleep.
8
Kyra
I wait until Faris is sleeping—giving it a good half hour after I'm certain before I risk moving. And who am I kidding? I’m not certain until then that my legs will even support me.
Holy hell what a night.
No. I can’t let myself think about it. Not now. Not when I could still lose my nerve. Pushing my thoughts aside, I slip out of Faris’s arms, taking great care and moving very slowly so as not to wake him. I go to where our clothes were piled and flung during our passion.
Once again, I force myself not to think.
From his belt, I pull a knife he seems to wear at all times from a small scabbard. And then I use that knife to cut the rope around my ankle. I dress quickly, not bothering to grab my underthings lest he hear me.
I snag his motorcycle keys and tiptoe away.
The tent door flaps shut behind me and I hold my breath and freeze. But only a slight snore from another tent disturbs the peace of the night.
As quietly as I can, I tiptoe in the dark to where Farris’s bike waits. I wince at the loud noise the motorcycle makes. But before I can hesitate or allow myself to look back at the tent, waiting for Faris to appear angry and in the buff, I accelerate back to the road. And I thank the stars that I had insisted Dez teach me how to ride a motorcycle years ago.
And that dragons are heavy sleepers.
But no monsters jump out at me. And I expect them to, all the way back to Juniper. Once I get back to my apartment, I park behind my apartment building in an area not easily visible from the street. I don't want Dez to see Farris’s bike if he drives by my house. Nor do I want Dez to see it if him comes looking, although Juniper isn’t big enough to really hide in should he decide to come looking.
I shiver and the thought and head up the stairs. Then I let myself into my apartment.
I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. I don't even know what I want to do right now.
Why had I turned to Faris? Slept with him? I couldn't explain it, not even to myself. It made zero logical sense. But the need he'd spoken of when he talked about mates and other things—I felt it, too.
I still feel it.
He spoke of not being able to maintain control. And logically, if it was true, it should be because of his dragon. Because no matter the beautiful, amazingly sensual body he walked around in, he wasn't really a man. But the loss of control wasn't just because of to the dragon inside of him, I didn’t think. Because I wasn't Dragon, and I had felt the same way when he’d taken me into his arms—utterly out of control.
In that moment I had needed Faris on a level that I've never experienced before. Needed him in ways I can't even explain to myself.
The thought, the feelings, are unsettling. But I guess they aren’t any more unsettling than everything else that is happened the last couple of days.
Stepping into my apartment feels weird. And I'm antsy. Like the space no longer feels right. Too small.
I shake my head at the thought, and head for the bathroom to run a bath after locking the deadbolt behind me—as if that would do more than delay Faris’s true form. I've always been settled by laying in the tub and giving myself permission to not think.
As I slide into the water, I hope against all hope that this time it will work as well.
The warm water immediately relaxes me. My whole body aches. Between the run, the passionate encounter I’d initiated with Faris. Muscles are sore that I didn't even know I had.
As I'm soaking in the hot water, I glance at a bottle of lotion sitting on top of the vanity. And something else that is been bothering me comes to the forefront of my mind.
I focus on the lotion, on the bottle of mouthwash next to it. I feel ridiculous, but I maintain my focus, trying to move them with my mind. My eyes finally settling on the mouthwash and suddenly, the bottle starts to vibrate, and then slides a couple of inches across the counter.
I shriek. And the bottle shoots across the counter to hit the floor. Mouthwash flows freely everywhere. And I stare at the mess, dumbfounded.
Had that really just happened? I can't be sure. But as I stare at the mouthwash, it doesn't disappear. Instead, covers a whole section of my bathroom floor and soaks into one of the rugs.
I close my eyes for a long moment and take a deep breath. But when I open my eyes, the mess is still there.
Not trusting if what I saw was real, I try to ground myself in the normal. I pulled the plug to drain the bath, and I get out and dry off quickly. Grabbing my robe, I truck to the kitchen to grab paper towels and some spray cleaner. I pick up the mouthwash bottle, and clean up the mess. After sopping up what I can, I fold the now wet and sticky rug and set it on top of my hamper.
Once the mess is cleaned-up, I stare at the floor for a long moment before hopping into the shower. After a quick scrub, I walk to my room and lie down on the bed. My thoughts, my emotions, are scattered. And I'm doing my best not to think about anything—let alone thinking about accepting the reality that there are Dragon shifters in the world. That there is magic in the world.
And that I have enough power of some sort for Faris’s dragon to recognize me as a potential partner.
I do my best not to think about any of it. And I especially try not to think about what I'd done to the mouthwash. It's all so overwhelming, and I just want to sleep more than anything. I've never had a longer couple of days in my life. But no matter what, no matter how hard I shut my eyes and do my best to empty my mind, sleep won’t come.
I roll to my side to try to get more comfortable, opening my eyes. A picture frame sits on my nightstand—my favorite picture of my parents. In it, they are holding each other and laughing at some shared joke. They look so happy, so vibrant, that their joy has always made me smile when I looked at the picture in the past. But I can’t quite bring myself to smile now. I feel numb. Completely overrun by the last two days and everything I’ve seen.
I was such a little girl when they passed that I really don't remember them very well. But the picture is always made me feel closer to them. As if it gave me a glimpse into the real people behind the faces I can't remember no matter how hard I try.
Suddenly, the picture flies off the nightstand and lands in my hand. I gaped at it. I hadn't even consciously thought about bringing it to me. How the hell is this possible?
For a long moment, I'm dazzled by this ability. And then it hits me. I hadn't meant to move the picture. It just happened. What if by remembering, by consciously trying to use my power, I had woken something inside of myself?
What if I can't control it?
If it happens again—around someone, anyone—it could cause a panic. Or worse.
For the first time, I understand why my grandfather refused to believe that I could move things with my mind. Even though, as my memories get closer and closer to the surface, I'm certain that he saw me move things more than once.
