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My lips graze his in an almost-kiss, his frozen breath cooling my insides as I inhale, trying to be as close to him as possible without gettingtooclose.
It’s too late for that though, isn’t it? Here I am, fighting the urge to stay away, but the more I fight, the closer to him I become.
“I don’t want you,” I say, the words filled with centuries of hate.
His hands wrap around my arm, trying to pry my hand away from his neck. “Then let me go.”
I touch the wounds on his neck, a vibration of awareness soaking into my scales. I bend down, inhaling the vampire’s scent, her saliva and blood smeared all over him. When I first smelled the aroma of them in the dining room, all of my jealous urges burst from me. Now, that I have him alone, I fucking feel it.
That vampire is my other firebond.
I have two.
I flick my tongue out, needing to have a taste.
Just a small, quick, taste. Nothing else. It won’t mean anything. I’ll satisfy any urges for him and her, then live the rest of the weeks I have alone.
His blood spreads over my tongue and I moan, my cock aching between my legs. “Mmmm,” I moan, sucking onto his skin harder, the reasoning for my denying him drifting further away into the back of my mind. “Fuck.” My forked tongue lavishes his flesh, cleaning the dried blood from his silver body. “My firebonds.” I push him against the tree, turning his head forcefully.
“My Dove.” Cailian wiggles in my hold, his hips cantering.
His move to get out of my hold has his cock rub against mine, fucking with the last thread of control I have and shredding it to pieces.
“I hate it when you call me that.” I drag my tongue across his throat to the other side, cleaning the remaining blood from his skin. “I am not your Dove. I will never be yours,” I say with small bites along his collarbone, rutting our cocks together.
The smell of his lust permeates the air, the forest becomes quiet, and the only sound is our breaths. Every exhale fuels me. My hands become needier, my lips become desperate, my cock heats to the point of pain, and my knot is wanting to form.
Dragons can have sex with whoever they want, whenever they want, and have children, but they can only knot their firebonds.
I rip his robe from him, holding the scraps of it in my hand, needing more of my firebond all while wishing for less.
The lust calms for a moment as the scent of his clothes makes my soul lightheaded. “This is all I’ll have of you then?” I roll the fabric he was wearing in my hand by balling it into a fist. My eyes burn as the tendons in my heart threaten to break. I bury my nose in the material that glimmers like the stars, scenting the winter embedded in every stitch tailored for him. “This is it? Quick nothings alone for a few moments, your smell hauntingme, your beauty taking over my imagination so every time I touch myself, the only thing I think about is you. You have taken over me!” I throw the robe down in frustration.
The elf’s crown is crooked, so I readjust it, unable to hide the pain I’m in because of him. “I want nothing more than to quit you. I want to tell my witch to unwind the threads of our fate so we can be free from one another, but that would probably kill one of us.”
“I have also thought about consulting my witch,” he admits, and hearing his soft voice spew such a statement, hurts me more than the acid that hit my wing. “But I will not ask that of her. It is dark magic. I will not put her at risk.” His blue eyes swirl as he stares at me, his veins pale orange instead of bright like my fire, which tells me he is in the mating process.
But not with me.
“Quit me then,” he states, tossing his long hair in a messy bun on top of his head, but leaving the braid out to frame his face.
Fuck. He looks spectacular like that. Messy, frustrated, but there is still something so fucking calm about him that no matter how hard I try to hate him more, I can’t.
“You know I can’t do that,” I whisper.
“Then we are at an impasse.” He places his hands on his hips, staring at me as if I hold all the answers on what to do next. Sighing, he bends down to pick up his robes. “I need to get back to the castle and explain Rarity to my House.”
“And me?”
“I will not bring you up in the conversation. Perhaps we can live half-mated. I mate her, you mate her, but we do not mate one another.”
I’m in front of him again, blowing smoke in his face. “My dragon won’t allow that.”
“I do not know another answer, Dove. It is the only way I can think of to not die. I know you can feel your fire inside you. Ibet it is feeling bigger and hotter, and if it keeps going, it will burn you alive. I know I can feel the freeze in my blood becoming warmer. Today, I felt better because of Rarity, but then you swept in as if you were jealous, and I am only back to feeling worse. I almost wish for death, so I do not have to go another day seeing your face!”
“You hate me that much?” I yell in return, slapping my chest as our conversation becomes a fight. My question rings through the forest, bouncing off the shadows of the trees. “You do not have the right to hate me.” I somehow have him pinned against the tree again, caging his head with my hands on either side of his face.
“I do not hate you.” The grace of his fingers trace my jaw and my eyes roll to the back of my head from how good that simple touch feels. “I could never hate you, but if I wished for death so I could not see your face, it would only be because the pain of not being able to look at you and call you mine, would be over. I would not have to go day to day wishing for your lips on mine. I would not be caught in the trap of dreaming about the life we could have together. I would be free to wait for you in another life, another time, and that sounds more peaceful than this.” He presses his hands against my chest.
