But Ronan couldn’t stop searching his own memories for some possible connection to the small old man who had so unwisely tried to cheat him out of money, died, and then devoted his afterlife to tormenting Ronan. Josiah had not only put a curse on him but had now burned him with fire and thrown him off a cliff. He had somehow undermined Ronan’s ability to stay in his dragon form, which was by far the worst offense of them all.
Ronan knew better than to think that Josiah would stop there. Whatever it was that Josiah held against him, he wanted to take Ronan down because of it, and now, dead and enjoying whatever afterlife he existed within, he had all the time in the world to do it.
Even now, with Natasha’s healing hand beside him—which was all that had allowed him to fly them out of the water tonight—Ronan worried about how he would possibly fight against a dead magician who was attacking him from the other side. Moreover, he resented the fact that he had to have those thoughts at all, when all he wanted to do was give his clan the answers that it craved and let his friends start their lives with their loved ones.
And let himself start his life with Natasha. There was no doubt in mind that she was meant for him.
A soft knock came at the door, and there was also no doubt in his mind that it was her coming to visit. He got up quickly, glad that she had come to him. He had wanted her to more than he could say, but after what she had gone through that night, he hadn’t wanted to push her if she needed time alone to process her thoughts. Facing down death was something that he was used to after so many years of doing what he did, but Natasha didn’t live that way. She was basically immortal, and then tonight, she had almost lost her life. If she wasn’t affected by that, then she wasn’t really human.
He opened the door and the sight of Natasha standing there, makeup free, hair hanging down around her shoulders, slim body draped in a silky T-shirt-style nightdress hit him hard. His throat got tight, and it took everything in him not to pull her into his arms and begin kissing her. He wanted to taste her lips again and let his hands slide beneath the fabric of her sexy pajamas, exploring her even silkier skin.
But she looked like she had been crying, and all he did was lift his hand up to her cheek, swiping his thumb underneath her eye to catch the hint of moisture there. He gave her a small, understanding smile. “Hi, beautiful. You want to come in and let me hold you?”
She nodded, and he stepped back, closing the door behind her as she walked inside. They went to the bed together, and she lay down first, curling up on her side, and he followed, spooning her from behind. One arm draped over her waist and his face buried into her hair, and he had never been more comfortable or content in his life. There had been very few women over the years that he had spent any time cuddling, because it always muddled things, and the truth was that he knew he could never commit to any of them, even if he wanted to. But cuddling with Natasha felt completely and totally natural, and as she relaxed back against him, he thought she might feel the same way.
“Tell me something happy,” she murmured, after they had lain together for a few minutes. “I keep thinking about getting pulled beneath the water. Seeing you burning. All of it—I can’t get it out of my head.”
Ronan’s heart hurt for her, because she had never done anything to deserve having to go through what she had gone through that night. In fact, from what little she had told him so far, it seemed like she had already endured her fair share of suffering for a lifetime. “Something happy,” he murmured, tracing gentle patterns against the soft skin of her inner arm, his fingers roaming down to the palm of her hand now and then to tease at the sensitive nerves there. “What makes you happy?”
“When people are good to each other.”
He couldn’t help but press a kiss to the back of her neck as he tried to think of something to put happier thoughts into her head. “Well,” he said, lacing his fingers through hers. “My dad was the leader of the Dragon Clan before me. Leadership doesn’t always follow a particular family. It can change hands for different reasons …like the leader’s son or daughter not wanting the position or not being up to it for whatever reason. Then a new leadership is chosen. But it’s been in my family for four generations now, and I like the idea of my own child becoming the next leader of the clan as well. My dad …he took his responsibilities very seriously. He wasn’t always around the house that much, because during his time there was some conflict with other branches of the clan, and he had a lot to handle. He traveled a lot, and my mother was somewhat sickly, so I spent a lot of time with my father’s mother. My Nana. She was the most wonderful person in the world, and she used to talk with me for hours.”
“That’s nice,” Natasha said, a slight smile in her voice. “I bet you were a cute kid.”
Ronan chuckled. “I was impetuous. We baked, and we sang, and we played outside, and she, as much as my mother and father, shaped me. She told me what it would take to be a leader. She told me to be strong, always, but that strength was sometimes rooted in humility. In willingness to ask for help. She told me to be decisive, to be demanding, and to make sure that those around me respected me, but that the best way to win that respect was to be understanding and accommodating. It was my Nana who told me that I was going to have to be the one who changed what we had been doing for generations, because my children’s children would have no one to marry. She told me to think outside of the box and to surround myself with good people. Mostly, she would tell me, I had to be willing to do whatever it took and to sacrifice everything for the good of the people who I was going to lead.”
He paused for a long moment, realization washing over him.
“I haven’t been listening to her as much as I should have. I’ve been trying to do it all myself. To keep from burdening other people. She wouldn’t have been proud of how I’ve handled things over the past few months, suffering alone and in silence.” He closed his eyes, seeing his Nana’s weathered face. “If she was here and I had told her about you, she would have said, ‘See what happens when you reach out to the people around you? Amazing things.’” Ronan smiled, able to hear his grandmother’s voice in his head.
“She would have liked me?”
Ronan chuckled. “She would have loved you. Instantly. She knew how to tell someone’s heart, and she’d see how good yours is.”
“That’s nice,” Natasha murmured. “I think I would have liked her too.”
“Oh, she was a badass in her day,” Ronan told her, smiling at the thought. “She was the leader of our clan before my dad. It wasn’t my grandpa. It was her. And she was amazing—strong, logical, reliable. She knew how to inspire loyalty in people, and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t love her. She also looked awesome—she was silver in her dragon form. She was so bright that she could hardly fly at night without people catching glimpses of her. And she was fearless. She was at the head of any battle that had to be fought and relentless on every case.”
“You really loved her.”
“She was my favorite person in the world.” Ronan hugged her closer to him and kissed the back of her ear. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
Ronan kissed her neck next, despite his intention to just lie with her and hold her. The feeling of her soft, warm body against his was almost too much to resist, although he would, if that’s what she wanted. But she pressed back against him, eliciting a soft moan that whispered against her ear. “I want to make love to you,” he told her, stroking his hand along her hip. “But I don’t want to rush you, Natasha. I would never do that. Tell me what you want.”
She didn’t respond with words. Instead, rolling over on the bed to face him, one of her legs slipped in between his to lock their bodies together. When she lifted her eyes to his, any reservations he had vanished, and he crushed his mouth to hers, rolling her over onto her back and covering her body with his.
They picked up right where they had left off earlier in the day, his hands all over her supple body as her legs wrapped ar
ound his waist. It took him no time at all to slide her nightdress up over her hips, exposing her blue lacy panties that he pressed his hard length against.
He was only wearing his boxers and a T-shirt, so there was very little between their hot, needy skin, and without breaking their eager kisses, they both stripped each other bare, running their hands everywhere all at once. Ronan cupped her full breasts, paying them the attention he hadn’t given them earlier that afternoon. His tongue teased at her nipples, and he skimmed his teeth over each pebbled tip, making her shiver with need.
Ronan was in control, driving her wild all over again, until her hand reached down between them, wrapping around his hard length and beginning to stroke with a deliciously slow, steady pace. He shuddered under her touch, breaking their kiss to bury his face in her neck and just feel the way she was touching him. Her hand around him was like nothing and no one that he had ever experienced before, and he knew that it would never be the same again.
“I need you,” she whispered in his ear, tightening her hand ever so slightly, making him pulse against her fingers. “Please.”
It was the sweetest, sexiest thing he had ever heard, and there was no denying her. In that moment, he wouldn’t have denied her his heart, his soul, every penny he had, or the moon, sun, and stars if she wanted it. He shifted his hips against her, teasing the apex between her thighs with the head of his cock, and then he slid inside of her, reveling in the tight warmth of her body.
Chapter Sixteen
Natasha
Feeling Ronan inside of her was like finding the piece of her that she didn’t know was missing. He filled her body, but he also filled her heart, and she couldn’t look away from the intensity of his gaze as he began to move within her, sliding in and out, hitting just the right spot every time he sank back into her again. Her hands lifted to cup his face, and he turned his head to brush a kiss against her lips as his biceps bulged with the effort of keeping his body hovering above hers, close enough that his skin skimmed over hers and his weight pressed against her pleasantly but not so close that it felt as though he was pressing her down into the mattress, trapping her with his large frame.
It had always felt that way with Matthew. She had been trapped.
Being with Ronan was like being liberated though, and she didn’t spend a single second dwelling on the past. She only focused on the here and now, wrapped in the safety of his embrace and drowning in the passion in his eyes. Her fingers trailed through the thick waves of his hair, drawing him back down for a kiss that was as deep as their connection, and her legs tightened around his waist, sinking him further within her body. He moaned against her mouth, and his cock grew within her, stretching her body in the most incredible way.
He slid out of her, then back in again, nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth as he filled her completely. It did things to her body that she didn’t know was possible, and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes and gripping his arms as he continued to ride her, his hips pistoning relentlessly.
“Ronan,” she whispered, saying his name over and over again. “God, Ronan, yes. Yes. Don’t stop.”
“I’m not about to,” he promised her through teeth gritted with passion. “You’re incredible, Natasha. Every single thing …ahhhh …” His words broke off as he sank that much deeper within her, pushing both of them to new heights of pleasure.
Her body was vibrating with the need for release, and every stroke brought her close. Outside of her control, her hips began to move against him, thrusting upward again and again. She sped up their pace, her body screaming for her climax, and when it hit, her vision went dark and her mouth fell open in a silent scream as her entire body arched upward for the intensity of the peak.
If he’d brought her pleasure that afternoon, it was nothing compared to what she felt now as he shouted her name and followed her right over the edge, his cock pulsing within her as he spilled his body into hers. With each throb she felt within her, she felt a new release of pleasure, and her climax seemed to last for ages before she began to fall back down from the high.
When the orgasm passed, she found herself staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard, her skin flushed, her hair in disarray, and her sweat-slicked skin pressed up against Ronan as he collapsed on top of her. Tracing her fingers over his back, she pressed him closer, snuggling her body against his with an uncontainable smile on her face.
Earlier that night she had thought she was going to die. Now, as she lay here, she thought that if she did die in this moment, she would die happier than she’d ever been.
Ronan turned his head and kissed her neck. “God.”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, nestling closer still. “Incredible.”
“Fantastic,” he whispered, lifting his head to kiss her. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”
“I bet you say that to all your ladies,” she teased, smiling up at him to make sure he knew that she was joking and not truly upset by his lady-killer ways—his former lady-killer ways, that is.
He chuckled, his eyes lighting up with humor. “Honestly, I’ve never said that before in my life. You do things to me that make me different.”
“Different?”
“Better,” he said, kissing her again.
She was just in the middle of getting lost in his kiss when he winced against her, his body contracting. Natasha didn’t miss the fact that it was a pained wince, and she pulled back, the realization hitting them both at the same time.
“Shit,” Ronan said, staring down at her.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “Shit. You had sex.”
“I didn’t even think about it.” He eased back from her, sliding out of her body and looking down at himself.
Natasha stared at him too, and they both waited, as though something was going to happen immediately. The curse didn’t work that way, and they both knew that in theory, but after the night they’d had, they were both on the jumpy side of things.
“I feel fine,” Ronan told her, after a moment of intent watchfulness. “I feel fine. Nothing’s changed. Same as before.”
“That’s not how activation works,” Natasha said, sitting up on the bed and reaching for her discarded nightshirt. She pulled it back around her, covering up skin that was still flushed with desire. “I mean, I guess it could be. But it doesn’t seem to work that way with you. You may not feel worse again right away, but the curse will intensify and sap your strength more quickly now.”
He looked up at her, their eyes connecting. “Worth it.”
She would have been hard-pressed to disagree, so she didn’t. “We just have to be responsible, Ronan. Whatever and whoever Josiah is, he has incredible power over you right now.”
Ronan’s gaze darkened, and he got up from the bed and grabbed a robe, wrapping it around himself.
“Where are you going?” Natasha asked in alarm, starting to get up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he told her, tying the belt around his waist. “Stay here. I’ll be right back—the bathroom is just down the hall.”
He disappeared from the room, and Natasha glanced around, appreciating the rustic, authentic décor in the back of her mind, but unable to keep her concern from the forefront. What would it mean that they had just activated the curse where it lived within Ronan’s body? Was he upset? Was he sick and not telling her? Why had he just walked out of the room immediately after making love to her like that?
Ronan came back in before she could question herself too much, and when she looked into his eyes, her worries that somehow he regretted what they had done together flew out the window. There was so much warmth and tenderness in his gaze, and he slipped out of the robe, pulling his boxers back on and getting back on the bed with her.
She cuddled up against his side and his arm slipped around her, tucking her close.
“Where did you go?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.
“To the bathroom,” he said, squeezing her close. “I told
you.”
“I know, but you just left. I thought you were upset with me. I thought I had done something.”
He looked down at her, frowning. “Why would you think that?”
Natasha thought about that question for a long moment, but she couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer. Why had she assumed that just because he had left the room to go to the bathroom after sex—a very common occurrence, she was sure—that he was angry with her?
There was only one answer to that, and she didn’t like it all.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I haven’t really dated since Matthew. He always got angry so quickly, and I never really knew why. I think I projected.”
Ronan tilted her chin up, looking down into her eyes with complete seriousness. “I can’t promise that I’ll never get mad at you. But I do promise that I won’t just get mad at you for no reason. And if I’m ever upset, I won’t yell or scare you or—God—hurt you. I would never do that. You’re safe with me, Natasha. I promise.”
“I know that,” she said sincerely, embarrassed of her own baggage despite his understanding. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t about you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal. If I’m ever—ever—angry with you, I will tell you. Calmly. That way you’ll know that, if I haven’t told you I’m angry, then I’m not.”
It was an oddly simple solution to her problem, and it instantly made her feel more at ease. “You could even say that it’s not a big deal and you don’t need to talk about it, but you’re just letting me know that you’re frustrated,” she suggested. “So not everything has to be a discussion, but I could still know when you’re angry.”
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