by Tessa Adams
Her resolve weakened at the thought of Logan, her stupid heart beating double time in the hope of seeing him again. Her head might be telling her she needed to get the hell out, and quickly, but her heart was screaming for her to stay. Even if it meant she was a Dragonstar prisoner. Even if it left her clan without a queen. She needed Logan, wanted him, more than she had ever needed or wanted anything in her life.
I can’t let that matter, she told herself fiercely, scooting forward so that her feet rested firmly on the ground. I can’t let anything matter except getting out of here. She pushed herself slowly to her feet, ignored the fact that she was trembling and her head felt like it was going to split open at any second.
Once she got herself to a standing position, Cecily tried to shuffle a few steps, but the room spun around her. Stopping, she closed her eyes and took some deep breaths as she waited for the nausea to pass. Only it didn’t pass, and she was forced to swallow rapidly, again and again, to keep herself from throwing up.
Damn. She was well and truly screwed if she couldn’t so much as walk across the room without seeing stars. Fear started to crawl up her spine as her stomach tied itself in knots. How was she going to escape? How was she going to get back to her clan if—
The door opened slowly and Logan pushed his way in, a duffel bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He looked so good, so healthy and beautiful and welcome, that she felt more stupid tears well up in her eyes. Jesus, if things continued this way, she was going to need to bring Kleenex boxes in by the truck full.
Logan’s eyes widened when he spotted her, and he was across the room in one leap, his duffel bag lying forgotten on the floor as he reached for her. “What are you doing up? Are you insane?”
His hand closed around her elbow, and then he was guiding her the couple of steps back to bed, helping her climb back on it, pulling the covers up to her waist. “I was only gone half an hour. When did you wake up?”
“I don’t know. A few minutes ago.”
He looked so good, she wanted to just sit there and drink him in forever. Whatever he’d done, whatever she’d done, didn’t seem to matter at that moment. All that mattered was him and the fact that he was here, holding her hand, when she’d been sure she was never going to see him again. Sure she was going to die.
Whatever the future held for her, right now she wanted nothing more than to feel the hard press of him against her. To smell the warm, peppermint scent of him. And if he’d lean over just a little bit, she wouldn’t mind savoring the taste of him, as well.
He obviously didn’t feel the same way, though, because instead of leaning closer, he pulled away from her. She felt the rejection deep inside, felt the trembling burst of hope give way to abject despair.
“Don’t do that,” Logan said fiercely, bending down so that he was looking directly into her eyes. “I’m not leaving you. But Quinn needs to take a look at you. We’ve been waiting three days for you to wake up.”
“I lost three days?”
“Yes.” His hand grabbed hers, squeezed fiercely even as a very tall, very dark man with green eyes strode into the room. He was dressed entirely in black except for his white lab coat, and it did nothing to make him look more endearing. She’d always thought Logan looked tough, but this man was a total badass from the word go.
His eyes were kind, though, as they looked at her on the bed—or at least as kind as she had a feeling he got. “So, you ready to train for the Olympics, then?” he asked with a sardonic twist of his lips.
“Not exactly.” She looked at Logan, baffled. Who is he? she demanded.
Your doctor. His name is Quinn Maguire.
He doesn’t look like any doctor I’ve ever seen.
Maybe not, but he saved your life. Give him a chance.
She relaxed a little because Logan was totally comfortable in his presence. But it was difficult, as he was eyeing her like a bug under a microscope—and not a particularly interesting one, at that.
“Then perhaps you’d like to tell me what you were doing up and out of bed? It looks like you were trying for the fifty-yard dash.”
“More like a thousand-mile marathon, but whatever works.” She wasn’t going to give him an inch, refused to let him see how unsettled he made her.
He grinned, shot Logan a quick smile. “I like her.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t have her. She’s mine.”
“That’s okay. Jasmine would probably object if I brought her home, anyway.”
Cecily’s gaze shot to his as she tried to figure out what Logan meant by that. Had he forgiven her? Was he willing to go against his king and take her back? But she couldn’t stand the idea of that, the idea of him giving up the only home he’d ever had.
Suddenly, Logan was there in her face. “Why don’t you just settle down? There’s plenty of time to deal with everything else, but right now you need to let Quinn look at you.”
“Oh, by all means, don’t let me interrupt,” Quinn answered even as he walked forward, stethoscope at the ready. “I kind of like watching Logan melt like butter at your feet.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur of confusion as Quinn asked her a bunch of questions about how she was feeling, filling her in on the extent of her injuries as he examined her. It seemed Julian had done even more damage than she’d first thought.
When he was finished examining her, he turned to Logan with a grin. “She’s a little shaky yet, but that’s to be expected. A couple more days and she’ll be good as new—provided she doesn’t try for that marathon she was talking about.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Logan answered, his hand squeezing hers in warning. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Somehow I didn’t think otherwise.” Quinn gave her a quick wink before heading to the door. “I’ll be back in two hours to check on her, so try to behave yourselves.”
He shut the door behind him.
Cecily stared after him for a second. “He’s different from our healers,” she finally said.
“Because he looks like he belongs on a Harley-Davidson, or because he has no sense of decorum?”
“Yes,” she answered.
Logan laughed. “You’ll get used to him.”
“Not if I only need to stick around a couple more days.” She held her breath, waiting to hear what he would say. Praying it wouldn’t be that she was under arrest and unable to leave.
In the end, he didn’t say anything, but his smile dimmed considerably. “Is that what you want? To go back to your clan?”
“I have to go back to my clan. Everything is a disaster. I can’t even imagine what’s happened since I disappeared.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on it for you. I let Dashiell and Wyatt, both of whom survived that last attack, by the way, know you’re safe for now. They’ve got everything well in hand, at least for a few more days.”
“Good,” she nodded. “Thanks.”
Logan didn’t say anything for a long time; then finally it seemed like something inside him burst and words just came tumbling out. “I want to go back with you.”
“What?” she asked, shocked and a little spellbound.
“I know I fucked up, know I betrayed you and your clan. I’m sorry. I can’t say I would take it all back because that lab—and everything in it—had to go. But the rest? The lies, the sneaking around, the betrayal? If I could do things over, things never would have turned out like this.”
“I know. I never blamed you for the lab. If the virus was half as evil as you said it was, then it needed to go. I just wish I’d figured things out earlier. I would have had it destroyed months ago if I’d known.”
“I know that now, and I’m sorry I doubted you. Sorry I didn’t trust you.”
“It’s okay.” She put a finger to his lips to stop the apology. His eyes closed and a shudder racked his body. “We both said and did things we regret.”
His eyes opened at that, and they were so dark, the pupils so dilated, that she woul
d have sworn they were black if she didn’t know better. “Do you remember what you said to me right before you blacked out?”
She thought for a minute, shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. Everything’s kind of a blur.”
“Oh.” He looked disappointed. “Never mind, then.”
“No. Tell me what I said.” She grabbed his hands, squeezed.
“You told me you loved me.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t take her eyes from his. This was too important, and she wasn’t going to let fear or embarrassment or anything else get in the way of telling Logan how she felt. “I do love you, but you already knew that. I said that to you before . . .”
“Before you kicked me off your compound?”
“Yes.”
“Is it true? Do you still love me, despite everything?”
“Of course I do, Logan. I didn’t wait fifty years to fall in love just to turn it on and off like a faucet. I love you more than I ever imagined it was possible to love anyone.”
“I love you the same way. And I know there’s a lot of crap we have to work through, but I thought maybe if you loved me enough, we could work it out. I know you can’t marry someone who isn’t a Wyvernmoon—”
“Wait a minute.” The room was spinning again, but this time it was excitement and not fear that was making everything look bright and shiny and just a little fuzzy as it whirled by. “Are you saying you want to marry me?”
“Of course I want to marry you. I understand about the king needing to be a Wyvernmoon, but if you don’t marry anyone—”
“Oh, I’m going to marry someone. The clan needs a strong, united, married couple to lead it.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re a hell of a leader, Cecily, all on your own.” His face lit with temper. “And you can’t tell me you love me, tell me you want to be with me, and then expect me to just step aside and let you marry someone else.”
“Who says I want to marry anyone else?” she demanded. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty good at breaking rules.”
He looked wary. “What does that mean?”
“You know exactly what it means. You’re screwed now, Logan. I’m going to marry you, and you’re going to be saddled with the most miserable, fucked-up clan on the planet. And don’t think you’re just going to be a figurehead, either—you’re going to help me get things back on track.”
He grinned. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
“No. I’m telling you that you’re going to marry me. You had your chance to get away, but that’s gone now. You’re stuck with me.”
“Thank God!” He bent and took her lips in a kiss so tender and needy and loving that it had her breath catching in her throat. “But are you sure ... ?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his mouth back to hers. Life’s too short to spend it lost in the past. I want to build a future with you, Logan. Let me do that.
Logan wrenched his mouth away from Cecily’s as a searing pain struck his arm. He looked at Cecily, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. Had she really forgiven him for betraying her? Had she really found a way to move past what he’d done, when he still couldn’t? She held him even tighter, and he realized that she could. That she had.
He smiled. “I’m ready to get started whenever you are.” Then he kissed her with all the pent-up pain and fear and remorse he had inside him. She tasted salty from the tears running slowly down her face.
“I’ll never make you cry again, Cecily. I swear it. I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I will keep that one. I swear.”
“Never is a long time, especially when you’re mated.” She traced a finger lightly over his arm and he glanced down, shocked when he realized exactly what the pain he’d felt earlier had been from. All three of the mating bands were darker, thicker, so solid and tightly intertwined that they looked like they could never be separated again.
Heat swept through him at the sight of them, at the knowledge that Cecily was finally his for good. Lowering his face to her neck, he felt tears well in his own eyes for the first time in more than three hundred years. He blinked them away as he steeped himself in the gorgeous scent of her.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her. “Not just on the outside, which is a pretty incredible package, I have to admit. But on the inside, as well, where it counts. I don’t understand, coming from where you did, how you have such an unending well of goodness and compassion and forgiveness inside you.”
“It’s easy to forgive when you love someone, and easy to have compassion for people when your own life is so full.”
He nodded. “I’ll remember that.”
“Good. Now, are you going to make love to me or what?”
“This is a hospital, in case you haven’t noticed. And you nearly died three days ago.”
“Yeah, but I’m feeling much better now. You heard Quinn—I’m almost perfect.”
“Almost being the operative word here. Now settle down and get some rest.”
Her hand squirmed between them, started rubbing against his abdomen. “But—”
“Stop that!” He captured her hand, brought it to his lips. “There will be plenty of time for that later.”
“Promise?” She pouted, but he could tell she was exhausted.
“I guarantee it. Now go to sleep.”
Two days later, Cecily was out of patience with waiting—and so was he. Quinn had released her with a clean bill of health, and the plan had been for them to fly back to South Dakota that afternoon.
But the second she got out of the clinic, Cecily was all over him. Not that he was much better. He’d barely managed to shut the door of his small house before he pulled her into his arms.
Lowering his head, he kissed her, and the feel of her lips on his was like finding himself again—warm and familiar and so overwhelming that it cut him off at the knees.
He moved his hands to her waist, determined to be careful as he started to undress her. But he was strangely unsteady, and his fingers shook as he shimmied her jeans and panties down her legs. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “Missed this.”
“So have I.” She arched against him invitingly. “So hurry, won’t you? It’s been too long since you’ve been inside me.”
He sank to the floor at her feet, kissed his way up her beautiful calves to her knees and her inner thighs. “I want to play a little first.” He buried his face against her pussy, inhaled the amazing, spicy scent of her.
Her hands twisted in his hair, tugged hard. “Play later. Fuck me now.”
“Wow. You’ve really got that queen thing down these days.”
“I do. And remember, if you don’t please me, I can always have you thrown in the dungeon.”
“You don’t have a dungeon.”
“True. But I can build one.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” He contented himself with one long, lingering lick of her clit, then pulled her down on top of him.
“Since you like being in charge so much, you can take me this time.”
Her eyes widened as she stared down at him, knowing how hard it must be for him to offer her that. Logan lived to be in control—in the bedroom and out of it. For him to so easily offer to let her control things between them, even in bed . . . It meant more than she could tell him.
So she concentrated on showing him, lowering herself slowly onto his cock until he was buried all the way inside her. Until they were one.
She rode him slowly, sweetly, loving him with her body the way he always loved her. She wrapped herself up in him, immersed herself in the feelings and the heat that arced between them with each slow rise and fall of her body on his.
Deep inside, need was urging her to go faster, to take him harder, but she wanted this time to be languid, lazy, loving. She want
ed it to be perfect.
His hands came up, caressed her breasts, played with her nipples, before slipping between her legs to caress her clit. He arched his back, drove himself deeper, did everything he could to get her to speed things ups.
But she wasn’t ready to come yet, wasn’t ready for this perfect moment to disappear. “Not yet,” she said, gasping as he stroked her higher. “Please not yet. I don’t want this to end.”
He laughed, and she felt it inside her, a little burst of sensation deep in her pussy.
“Cecily, A Ghra, didn’t we just decide that this was never going to end?”
She bit her lip, looked down at her lover with his gorgeous face and ruby eyes, which had turned the intense red of his dragon. “Promise?” she whispered.
His face turned serious. “I swear it.”
“Then take me, Logan. Make me yours forever.”
Logan didn’t need a second invitation as he pistoned his hips beneath hers, driving himself deeper, deeper, deeper inside her. Driving himself as deep as he could go, so deep that she could never get him out.
Her hands found his, her fingers tangling with his as they rose and fell against each other. Sweat poured off him, off her, and when her breath broke, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to take it any longer.
“Come for me, Cecily. Now! Come for me now!”
She did, her body clenching around his in rhythmic contractions that took him the rest of the way to paradise, and he emptied himself inside her in a series of long, shuddering pulses.
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around her, told himself he was never going to leave her again.
She was his. His woman, his mate, his home.
He laughed a little at the realization, pure joy flooding through him.
And when her lips met his, he reveled in the fact that after four hundred years and four continents, he had finally found a home.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tessa Adams lives in Texas and teaches writing at her local community college. She is married and the mother of three young sons.
