Dark Embers

by Tessa Adams

  “Fuck, Phoebe,” he groaned before he could stop himself. He didn’t say anything more, couldn’t say anything as he waited for her to do it again.

  She did, and he grew longer, bigger, heavier as emotions he’d never felt before coursed through him.

  She belonged to him, and he would kill anyone or anything that tried to take her from him. She was his, and he would protect her with the last breath in his body.

  His thrusts grew harder, less restrained, more out of control, and she took them. Took him—in a way no one else ever had before or ever would again.

  The need to orgasm rose inside him—urgent and intense, a painful ecstasy raking him with sugared claws. But even more intense was his need to make sure Phoebe came first. Slipping a hand between their bodies, he stroked his thumb over her clit. Then again and again as he leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth.

  She screamed and bucked against him. Because of his rough penetration, she was swollen and more sensitive than she had ever been before, and he fully felt every shiver of her body. It made him even crazier, until he was biting her, slamming into her, bruising her. Her sobs grew wilder, out of control, and finally—finally—he felt her inner contractions pulling at him. With a groan, he gave himself to her, flooding her with all that he had, all that he was, while he took all that she was inside him and sheltered her close to his soul.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  She’d been run over by a freight train, Phoebe thought as Dylan slowly lowered her to the ground. He kept his hands around her waist, which was a good thing, because she doubted—sincerely—that her legs would support her.

  “What was that?” Dylan murmured as he skimmed his lips across her shoulder.

  “I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t mind if it happened again. Later.” She glanced down at the ground around them. The rain was still coming down, not as heavily as it had been during their lovemaking, but enough to obscure her view of the desert floor.

  “I can’t find my clothes,” she complained.

  “I don’t think it would matter if you could. They’re not exactly what I would call wearable.”

  She thought of how it had felt to be wanted by a man so much that he actually wrenched the clothes from her body, and decided that the loss of her favorite pair of jeans was more than worth it. Of course, while the concept was great in theory, it also left her with a little bit of a dilemma.

  “So, you can always do the dragon thing to get back to town—shimmer yourself invisible or something. But what am I supposed to do?” She gestured to her nude body. “It’s not like I can just walk through the laboratory parking lot in my birthday suit.”

  “We’re not going back to the lab tonight . . . or to town.”

  “Okay.” She glanced around. “Do you mind me asking where, exactly, we are going? Because while I don’t mind making love out here—especially when it’s with you—I have to admit that I’m not all that fond of desert creepy-crawlies. Certainly not fond enough to lie down on the ground and hope for the best.”

  “Not a camper?” he asked with a grin.

  “Not particularly, unless you count Motel 6.”

  “Who would have thought it? The good doctor’s high maintenance.”

  She looked down her nose at him. “If by high maintenance you mean that I prefer to spend the night somewhere where I don’t have to worry about scorpions, snakes or spiders in my hair, then yes, I am high maintenance.”

  “You don’t have to worry about them—they don’t come near me. Something about the dragon. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  “Dylan,” she said warningly. “You’re going to want to stop messing with me.”

  “Or else?”

  “I don’t know, but it will be suitably diabolical. I have a twisted mind.”

  Again his grin flashed, and despite the threat of a night spent in the desert, she realized she liked seeing him like this—if not carefree, then at least not weighed down by the responsibilities he usually wore so seriously. “I like your twisted mind.”

  “Mm-hmm. I bet. Anyway . . .”

  He held out a hand to her. “Come with me.”

  She took it grudgingly, then let him lead her a few feet through the rocky sand, intensely glad that she still had her shoes. When he stopped in front of what looked like a yawning, black chasm in the earth, however, she pulled back. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to my home.”

  The look she shot him was skeptical. “I was at your home, baby, and it looked nothing like a big hole in the ground.”

  “That’s the house the king keeps for guests who don’t know he’s a dragon—business associates, wayward scientists, et cetera.”

  “King, huh?” The title freaked her out enough that it took her a moment to hear the rest of his words. She’d sensed that he was the clan’s leader, but to hear it confirmed—to hear him call himself king—made her stomach somersault in a way that was much more unpleasant than when it had happened during their impromptu ride through the desert.

  “Don’t get all tripped up on it.” He started into the cave, pulling her along in his wake. “It’s no big deal.”

  “Yeah.” It was her turn to snort. “Right.” As she looked around, she said, “Hey, it’s dark in there. Can’t we come back later on, when it’s light? I’m a scientist, not a desert-trekking girl. This isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

  He murmured a few words she couldn’t quite catch, and the entire cave in front of her lit up. “Oh,” she gasped, turning shocked eyes to him. “How did you do that?”

  “Magic.” He winked, but she couldn’t help wondering if he was serious. He was a dragon, for crying out loud. If that was true, why couldn’t other fairy-tale things be true, as well?

  “Hey,” she asked as they climbed down the mouth of the cave. “What else can you do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you can shift. You can make light appear out of thin air. What else?”

  His lips twisted in amusement. “Isn’t that enough?”

  She flushed. “Well, yeah. I just thought—”

  “Sssh.” He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.” And then he pulled her the last few yards into the cave. At the first glimpse, she froze, awed. She’d never seen anything like it.

  It was nothing like she’d expected it to be—no bats, no creepy-crawlies, no dark and frightening corners. Instead, the front room where they were standing was filled with incredible rock formations—speleothems, she thought they were called—some of which stretched from the thirty-foot ceiling to the ground. White, icelike structures that looked like huge Christmas trees covered in frost. Soft, round globes grouped together that reminded her of popcorn. Small bushes in orange and red and green that looked a lot like the coral she’d seen during her one and only scuba-diving trip, and sharp, crystal-like spears in myriad colors that covered much of the walls and ceiling. The light he’d created bounced off all of it, making rainbows in some of the translucent formations.

  “My God, Dylan, it’s gorgeous.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He pulled her along, into one of the many rooms off the main one. “This is the parlor,” he said, drawing her in close.

  “The parlor.” She looked around at the room filled with priceless antique carpets, huge, overstuffed couches and natural cave formations that had somehow been incorporated as both art and furniture. There was a large craggy shelf covered in jewel-tone pillows, making it look more like a duvet than a rock formed through thousands of years of pressure. And the walls—Jesus, the walls were embedded with jewels of every shape and color, some as big as her head.

  “Are these—” She stepped closer to the wall, traced one.

  “Yes.”

  “Seriously?” She touched what she assumed was a diamond. “Gemstones?”

  He shrugged, but those black eyes were watching her closely. “Dragons like their pretties.”

  “I g
uess.”

  “Do you want it?”

  “Want what?”

  “The diamond.”

  She started laughing, then realized he didn’t look like he was joking. “I think the three million dollars you gave me is quite sufficient. Besides, what would I do with a rock the size of a watermelon?”

  He seemed to relax at her words, a subtle unbending of his muscles that set her teeth on edge. “I’m not a treasure hunter, Dylan. I’m not here for your money.”

  She started to say more, then stopped, dismayed, as she realized that was exactly why she was there. Not for what he could give her now, but she never would have come to New Mexico—never would have been with Dylan—if he hadn’t bought her off at the very beginning.

  Her stomach lurched as she wondered whether Dylan was thinking the same thing: that he’d bought more than her professional services with his money, and that she was just delivering.

  “What the hell is going through your mind?”

  She pulled out of her reverie enough to see Dylan bending down until his eyes were on the same level as hers. “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. Whatever it is, just get it out right now.”

  She swallowed despite her suddenly dry throat. “You don’t think you bought—”

  “No, I don’t think that.” His voice was firm, his eyes resolute. “I’m sorry if something I did made you believe—even for a second—that I could think something that despicable.”

  Despite his protestations, she felt the need to say something more. “I’m with you because I want to be.”

  “As am I.” He held out a hand. “Now let’s go explore some more.

  If you want to see some gems, wait until you see the rest of the cave.”

  They worked their way into the next room. “What’s the real reason you have all these jewels? It can’t just be because they’re pretty.”

  “They help with—” He stopped abruptly.

  “With what?” she asked curiously.

  “Never mind.” He pulled her along. “There’s more to see.”

  It stung that he wasn’t willing to trust her with the answer to her question, but then, he’d already stepped pretty far outside his comfort zone tonight when he’d shifted in front of her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t trusted her with more of himself than anyone else ever had.

  They didn’t talk much as Dylan continued the tour. He showed her rooms with natural baths, and one with a waterfall. Others were filled with more gems and treasures than she could possibly imagine.

  When they finally got to his bedroom, an opulent room filled with the most gorgeous speleothems she’d ever seen—mineral shelves and long, winding crystals—she stood in the center of it, just absorbing her surroundings. In the middle of the room was a gigantic bed covered in a comforter of the darkest sapphire silk. Huge tables flanked the bed, and a few yards away were hot springs that warmed the entire room.

  “You sleep here?” she asked incredulously.

  “I do. But if you don’t like it, I can take you back to town. To the house.”

  “Are you kidding?” She wrapped her arms around his waist, rested her head on his chest. “When else will I have the chance to sleep in a cave surrounded by all the luxuries of home?”

  He stiffened against her, but when she glanced up at his face, he was smiling. “So you like it?”

  “I love it.”

  His eyes gleamed, and she was suddenly conscious of her nudity—and his. Crossing the room, she pulled back the covers on the bed and looked at the sapphire silk sheets. “I really don’t have to worry about creepy-crawlies down here?”

  “Not a one.”

  “Okay.” She climbed in. “And where do I, um—”

  “The bathroom’s through there.” He nodded to an alcove. “I can show you if you want to get cleaned up.”

  “Right, cleaned up.” Her eyes fell on the hot springs. “Can we wash up in there?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He went over to what looked like a man-made closet against one of the huge chamber’s walls and pulled out a couple of towels—also in dark blue. Then he held out a hand to help her into the water.

  It felt wonderful against her aching body—not boiling, as some hot springs were, but definitely hot enough to ease the kinks and aches that had come with her last enthusiastic bout of sex with Dylan. “What’s with you and blue?” she asked, playing with the sapphire around his neck. “Everything’s blue in here—even the gems in the walls.”

  He shrugged, but his eyes were careful as he watched her. “Sapphires have always worked for me.”

  “Worked how?”

  “Surrounded me with good energy. Helped me clear my mind, make good decisions.” He noted her look of disbelief. “I know it sounds stupid, but—”

  “I’m sitting in a natural bath in an underground cave with a man who can change into a dragon, and you think a little thing like sapphires promoting mental clarity is going to trip me up? Give me a break.” She ran a hand over his face. “Although you don’t look like the type to believe in all that stuff.”

  He captured her hand, held it against his cheek. Then turned his head and kissed her palm. “It’s hard not to believe in all that stuff, when you grow up knowing it as fact.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  “Besides, they’re the exact color of your eyes when you get angry.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why do you think I antagonize you so much?” He grinned at her—he’d been doing a lot of that through the evening—and she couldn’t help admiring how much younger he looked. How much more carefree, when the smile actually reached his eyes.

  She started to tell him so, but when his tongue reached out and caressed her index finger, she got distracted by the sparks shooting through her. His teeth nipped lightly at her fingertip before he gently pulled it into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it in slow, lazy circles. And then he started to suck, a subtle back-and-forth motion that made her breath catch in her throat and her eyes roll back in her head.

  Minutes before, she would have sworn she was too tired for this, had believed that she was completely worn-out. But she couldn’t deny the need flowing through her, arcing between them. Didn’t want to deny it. Dylan—with his mystical ways and incredible intensity—wasn’t meant to be hers forever. But he was with her now, and she would take whatever he could give her.

  As he slowly relinquished his grip on her finger, she bit back a protest. Then shuddered with delight as he shimmied his mouth over her palm in a trail of soft, teasing kisses.

  “Dylan,” she gasped as her body tightened to the point of pain. “I need you.”

  He merely laughed, the sound dark and sexy and so seductive that Phoebe felt her sex clench in response. Leisurely, as if he wasn’t half as affected by what he was doing as she was, Dylan pressed long, lazy kisses to the bend of her elbow, to her wrist, to the front and back of her hand. Then traced his tongue along her life line, her love line, slowly working his way to her mound of Venus. And there, right above where her palm met her wrist, he bit her. Gently, firmly, his teeth sinking in even as he soothed the hurt away with his tongue.

  She cried out, grabbed on to him with her free hand and pressed her lips to his. She slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, trying to get deeper, trying to take his essence inside her, but he merely laughed. And slipped away from her grasping fingers.

  “Where are you going?” she cried, her body aching for him. “Come back.” A part of her—the rational one—was shocked that Dylan had so easily reduced her to pleading, but the rest of her didn’t care. All that mattered was touching him, taking him into her mouth and her body. She wanted to taste him, to feel him come against her tongue. Wanted to swallow him down so that she had a part of him inside her, even if it was just for a little while.

  It was a strange feeling, one she’d never had for another man. But it was there nonetheless, and in those moments, she needed Dylan like she needed water�
��for her very survival.

  “Dylan, please. Come back.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to know what else I could do.”

  “Later. You can show me later.”

  “Why? When it’s so much fun to do it now.”

  “Fun for whom?” She was pouting and didn’t even care.

  “You’ll see. Now stand up.”

  She crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “What if I don’t want to stand? It’s cold out there.”

  His laugh echoed through the chamber. “I’ll warm you up.”

  Now, that sounded more along the lines of what she’d been hoping for. She stood up so quickly that she nearly slipped on the rock formations. Dylan caught her with one hand, and she shivered at the feel of his calloused palm against her too-sensitive skin.

  “Now step up one more.”

  “Where?”

  He gestured to a raised portion of the rock bench she’d been sitting on.

  “I’ll be almost completely out of the water if I stand there.”

  “That’s the point. Come on, Phoebe. Trust me.”

  She did what he asked, reluctantly, shocked at how exposed she felt standing there while he was still chest deep in the water. It was so much harder to be covered to her calves in water, the rest of her body bared to his gaze, than it was to be completely naked in front of him. Maybe because she knew cover was only a short slide away, and yet she didn’t reach for it—because Dylan had asked her not to. Yes, it was the vulnerability he teased out of her, the way he tried to make her bend to his will, that made her so uncomfortable—and so aroused, all at the same time.

  “Now close your eyes.”

  “Dylan, please. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the steadiest on my feet—”

  “I won’t let you fall. I promise.” His voice was deeper now, more dragon than man, and she didn’t know how she felt about it.

  “Dylan.”

  “Do it, Phoebe.” He barked out the order, and her spine stiffened. She wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone, and taking them now, from Dylan, grated on her nerves.

  But then he touched her, running his index finger from the hollow of her throat down the center of her body to her navel, and her body clenched in response.