by Amelia Jade
And one he wished to recreate over and over again, reliving the memories with Carla each and every time. Mouth dry, he could feel his palms growing clammy as Carla’s hand stayed still, her fingers still pressed together.
This was it, he realized. Right here and now. If she was willing to let him in, to explore where things might take them, it was going to be with the tiny action of spreading her fingers and locking them with his. Everything else would follow from there, a waterfall of events and emotions that would, hopefully, lock their lives together like their fingers.
If.
Everything hinged on that one word. If she took his hand. If she was willing.
He saw her chest rise and fall as she looked at her left leg where his hand rested under hers. The muscles of her throat worked, revealing her own nervousness at the situation. Thorne longed to speak, to tell her of the unconditional caring within him, of how he would always remain faithful and dependable, the sturdy rock that she’d never had in her life. He not only could be that man, he would be, and more. A provider, a lover, and a confidant. A best friend and protector, a partner in crime and a shoulder to cry upon. All that and more he would provide to her until his dying days.
All that he could offer would be hers, and more. He would never stop improving, never stop working to be better for her. Thorne would offer wealth and a life free of sickness, disease, and full of richness and love, thick with laughter and inside jokes.
It could be hers, if she wanted it.
But as much as he wished to tell her this, he didn’t. Not yet at least. Carla needed to make this decision herself, untouched by outside influence. This was the light touch he knew was necessary, that he would have to provide until she was more comfortable with him.
Even if she did accept him, Thorne knew it wasn’t the end of the courtship. Not at all. Humans were fickle and needed time to come to believe in things that he and his dragon knew to be the utter, unalterable truth. This, in fact, would just be the start of his journey, and there would be plenty more tense situations to come.
But this was the one that would let them start that journey, and he silently urged her to take it. To cast herself free of reservation, and explore his world.
Blood roared through his system as he felt her move, accompanied by a flood of bitter disappointment as she lifted her hand from his.
No. He couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. They were—
One finger of hers remained behind. As he watched, his chest neither rising nor falling, she began to trace imaginary lines across his palm. Her touch was both a tickle and the most pleasant sensation he’d experienced wrapped up into one.
“I don’t know what to make of you,” she said softly. “You’re kind, gentle, charming, and well-mannered. Yet you also get me drunk and into situations I’m not happy about.” Her index finger continued to swirl around his upraised palm. “So which Thorne are you?”
“Mostly the first. But I am a dragon, and even I can’t predict just what that means I will do sometimes,” he admitted.
“A dragon. Yes of course. Big, black, and capable of taking me to new heights. Something like that?” she teased.
“Something like that,” he agreed distractedly, mesmerized instead by the swirling, dancing lines of her finger against his skin.
“Do you promise?”
Dragging his eyes away from her swooping finger, he stared at her face, once again admiring the soft lines, slightly downturned eyes of hard blue, and the still somewhat-shockingly short hair. He’d learned it was called a “pixie cut,” and thought the term somewhat hilarious when applied to Carla. Her height and thick build, curvaceous sides, and full figure were the complete opposite, and it was more than okay with him.
“Yes,” he told her, putting every ounce of truth into his voice that he could muster, trying to ensure she heard him loud and clear.
“Thorne?”
“Yes?” he asked, surprised to hear his voice sound slightly hoarse.
“Take me to the bedroom.”
It was the command he’d waited for, hoped for, and dreamt of. He snatched her up into his arms and carried her through the door, not bothering to shut it behind him.
While he’d intended to strip her as sensually as possible, Carla had other ideas. Greedy fingers slid up his sides and divested him of a shirt before fumbling briefly with his belt. He stood there somewhat stunned, and yet incredibly turned on by just how badly she wanted him. His mate was eager to have him, to be taken by him.
Casting all caution to the wind, he tore her clothes free from her body in a display of strength that shocked her and elicited a gasp of surprise. Momentary fear was visible in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by lust as he picked her up and pushed her down onto the bed as if she weighed nothing.
Any objections she might have been thinking of voicing over the ruined clothing were washed away by soft kisses as his lips worked their way from one of her knees to the peak of her hips and the soft skin that lay between. Fingers pushed through his hair and pulled him in tighter as he explored her, tasting her sex for the first time.
It was hot and uncontrollable. He covered her with his mouth and let his warm tongue slip over and around her in slow circles. The more Carla relaxed into his touch, the faster his tongue worked. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he slipped first one, then a second finger inside her as well, not holding back. They curled up and worked back and forth, amplifying the pleasure he was giving to his mate.
Breaths shortened and gasps became mindless cries of pleasure until her body rocked hard once and then muscles went into spastic fury as her entire body contracted and relaxed rapidly, pummeled by the sensations he had unleashed from between her legs. Thorne instinctively knew when to touch harder, when to slow down, and when to speed up. He could tell that she wasn’t done, and minutes later her cries reached his ears again, contributing to the throbbing between his legs.
Unable to take it any longer, he stood up, placing himself between her legs as she hung off the edge of the bed. At a nod of confirmation that she was okay, Thorne entered his mate for the first time.
Both of them hissed and bit their lips, the sensations near overwhelming as their brains struggled to come to grips with what was happening between them. Sweat broke out across his chest and forehead as the intensity of it all washed over him. Her tightness wrought sensations from his shaft he’d never before experienced, and Thorne knew that despite the titanic effort, his mate would get the best of him in a very short time.
“Just do it,” Carla gasped as he rocked against her, both hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs circling around her nipples, making them even harder than before. “Don’t hold back, Thorne. I want you so badly.”
He growled with animalistic pride as he claimed his mate, thrusting hard against her delicious body, eyes memorizing every curve as he watched her arch and writhe from the feeling of being penetrated. Thorne didn’t need to go hard; their bodies worked together naturally, and with each crush of their hips together, they moaned and cried out.
It wasn’t long before he felt himself begin to tighten. Carla could feel it too, and when he tried to back away she clamped her legs tight around his waist and leaned forward, pulling on his shoulders with her hands, nails digging into his flesh.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she said through short gasps of air. “I’m so close. Just do it.”
Knowing that his mate was nearing climax as well nearly pushed Thorne over the cliff, but he held on just long enough, and with an agonized shout they came together. Carla hooked his neck and pulled his face to her, burying her screams as she kissed him, skin to skin as he filled her with molten liquid.
His lungs heaved, driven wild by their shared passion, and he wanted nothing more than to just collapse onto his side and recover. But the feral need to please his mate overwhelmed any other desire, and he continued to thrust into her until her muscles went limp and she fell b
ack onto the bed. Thorne wasted no time joining her, and the two spent the next few minutes competing for oxygen.
Carla was the first to recover, much to his chagrin.
“That was fun,” she said, the first words either of them had said in ages.
“Fun?” he managed to get out. “That’s how you remember it?”
She rolled onto her side, and his eyes were immediately drawn to her large breasts, the pale nipples still erect and pointed at him. “Yes,” she said lazily. “Though feel free to give me another sample. Maybe seconds will change my mind.”
He growled happily and lunged at her, never one to back down from a challenge. No matter how…hard.
Chapter Twelve
Carla
She slipped back into bed quietly, then eased her way across the open space until she was curled up against Thorne’s back, trying to steal his warmth.
The big shifter, as she’d learned over the past few nights, put out an impressive amount of bodily heat, enough that she never felt cold while he slept in the same bed as her.
That development had caught her by surprise, as it definitely wasn’t something she’d intended to happen from the start. Then again, she thought, sneaking her arm over his side to cuddle him tight, neither did he.
Things had taken a wild turn after she’d opened herself up to him, accepting that yes, okay, she was intrigued by him. She wanted to know what it would be like to believe she might have a chance at ending up with him. Thorne of course was dead certain. He’d let slip once more that she was his mate, but after the way he’d clammed up after that, she knew he was holding back, not wanting to pressure her.
It was probably the only thing that had kept her open and willing to explore the possibilities. Rarely did he push her into something, and only occasionally did he pull her in. Like the shower the first morning after they’d enjoyed each other’s company. Carla hadn’t been entirely certain she was ready for that, but after a lavish scrubbing from his gentle hands, she’d been forced to admit it hadn’t been at all what she’d expected.
Thorne was…different, there was no denying that. But he seemed genuinely happy when he was attempting to give her the world, and the next night he’d surprised her with the chicken casserole dish—this time with the appropriate amount of salt. It had been delicious. Somehow it had gone from that to the bedroom once again.
She frowned at his back as he shook slightly in his sleep. Stay still so I can cuddle you! He settled back down and she snuggled in closer contentedly, basking in the heat he radiated.
Then, earlier that night, they hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. Carla wasn’t sure what that said about her, but so far she’d refrained from cluing Jody in to the moment. That was the last thing she needed. To hear the cries of righteous victory from her friend, after being told that things with Thorne had taken a different path from her initial intentions.
Beside her Thorne made a noise. Desperately praying that he wasn’t a loud snorer, she lay still and hoped that he would return to a deep slumber shortly. It was probably her getting up to use the bathroom that had disturbed him, because she didn’t remember this from any of the other nights.
She felt his body relax as he sank back into the bed, more on his stomach than his side now, and she closed her eyes, ready for sleep to claim her once again.
Thorne bounced and made a noise that she could only describe as mewling. It was very, very unlike the dragon shifter, who had exuded nothing but strength and confidence, except when he adorably screwed up. Even that wasn’t something she would classify as weakness. This, however, this sounded…bad.
“Thorne?” she called softly, wondering if she should just wake him up.
He thrashed harder this time, and cried out. Carla pushed back from him, leaving nothing but her one hand on his back, trying to rub it, so that he might focus on her touch and resume sleeping peacefully.
Without warning he flipped onto his back. His eyes were screwed tight and his face screamed of agony. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t good.
“Thorne!” she said, leaning up over him and calling out his name louder now, trying to shake him awake.
An arm came up and casually tossed her clear of the bed. She yelped in surprise as he pushed her away with more strength than she was ready for, and she tumbled off the bed and onto the ground with a loud thud and another cry. Her training ensured she avoided any actual injury as she rose to her feet.
Moving to the doorway, she flicked the lights on and shouted Thorne’s name several more times. A sharp pain registered in her elbow and she hissed in discomfort, rubbing it swiftly. Obviously she’d bumped it during the fall, but the adrenaline of the moment had prevented her from feeling any pain for a bit.
“Thorne wake up!”
Finally the broad-shouldered behemoth in her bed sat upright, his eyes going wide as he saw her rumpled appearance and the way she was cradling her elbow.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What wrong?”
“That’s what I want to know! You started to cry out in your sleep, and when I went to wake you, you flung me off the bed.
She told him, watching his eyes grow cloudy, like mud stirred up in a pond. He momentarily withdrew from the conversation, and little bolts of lightning flickered through his brown-gold orbs, anger at himself rising to the surface.
Eventually it calmed and he got out of bed. Carla eyed his lack of attire, finding it not entirely appropriate to the situation. That thought reminded her she was standing there in the buff as well, completely exposed to his roving gaze.
“Carla, I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you,” he said, stepping forward. “I’ll massage it all better. Everywhere.”
She shuffled back, the movement halting his advance. Anguish was writ plainly across his face, and while she wanted to tell him it was better, she couldn’t. Not yet.
“What was that all about, Thorne?” she asked softly. “I could have been badly hurt. Or killed.”
He dropped his arms, eyes downcast as well. “It was a nightmare.”
“I picked up on that much.”
Thorne winced and nodded. “Right, of course. I…witnessed something. When I was younger. Something I did not want to, but that I—at the time at leas—thought I had no other choice. Something I was forced into seeing that now haunts my dreams, and my waking memories as well.”
He looked away. She didn’t push him. Getting him to even open up that much about his past was more than she’d managed before. He was incredibly tight-lipped about his life before waking up. It was somewhat understandable; he wanted to start new, start fresh and without any of the stigma of what he was leaving behind.
Now she was starting to understand why. Although it made her wary about sharing a bed with him, it also brought her closer.
“I understand,” she said softly, closing the distance between them, letting him know she wasn’t going to hold it against him forever. “I’ve been in similar spots where you feel you have no way out, nobody to help you. You don’t know what to do, so you just sit there and take it.”
Memories of her own childhood. Of being bullied. It all came back to her now, and the pair of them sank to the bed together, gentle caresses and touches helping to reignite the connection between them. Although they were naked, there was nothing sexual about the moment. It was intimacy at its most basic, no curtains, no shields, just the two of them and the bodies they came into the world with, pressed tight against one another to provide whatever support they could.
At the moment, it was all she could offer. It was enough. It would have to be.
“I promise you, it will never happen again,” he vowed.
“Thorne,” she said, stroking his hair, letting her fingers push through the wavy locks on top, while the palm of her other hand slid up and down the fade in a slow rhythm. “You can’t control that, and you know it. I…don’t know about sharing the bed during sle
eping until we get this worked out, but trust me, we will. We’ll find a way. There has to be a dragon therapist out there somewhere.”
The skin under her fingers shivered.
“What is it?” she asked, moving his head so he was forced to look at her.
He shook his head. “I was just thinking, it would be just like Colonel Mara to be certified in dragon therapy.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Carla couldn’t control her laughter. Mostly because she felt he was right, it would be just like her to be the only certified dragon therapist in the world.
“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear as silence reigned once more.
“For what?”
“Believing in me. Giving me another chance when maybe I don’t deserve it.”
She shrugged. “I saw what you did with that chicken casserole the second time around. If you can do everything better the second time around as well as you did that, things will be just fine.”
It was Thorne’s turn to laugh now.
Chapter Thirteen
Thorne
“She’ll have to go for it.”
Thorne shook his head. “No, no she won’t. Just because it makes sense to us, doesn’t mean it will make sense to her. Or that she’ll agree to it.” He frowned. “And you know what, I’m not even sure she has that sort of authority.”
Carla tilted her head sideways. “What do you mean?”
“Colonel Mara isn’t actually the commander of Fort Banner. She seems to have free rein of it, and to make decisions about personnel, like she did with you, which isn’t surprising after Vanek killed one of the Outsiders. She’s got to be riding pretty high in the eyes of her superiors just now. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s not in charge there. She commands Fort Stark, where we’re actually awakened. So she might agree with it, but she might not be able to make it happen.”
His mate cursed, running both hands through her barely finger-length hair in frustration. “Dammit. Right. Major Von Kamp is commander there. I always forget that, since he maintains such a low profile relative to Colonel Mara, who is always there with you or Kallore or another dragon.”
