Page 93 of Sight of Fate

He’s known how I’ve felt through our connection, but I show him my favorite memories. The awe when we met, and I realized he was one of the men in my visions. The excitement of our first date. Him learning how to make my favorite coffees. His ambition and drive, and the way he inspires those around him. Our first kiss. The endless confidence he has in me. The rare times he shows me how vulnerable he is. How sexy I find him in and out of those tight boxer briefs.

He slows for a minute, his lips finding mine in a deep kiss, swirling with emotion, including an overwhelming gratitude to have a mate like me. When he raises his head, there’s a sheen to his eyes.

“Charli, sweetheart, you unravel me in all the best ways.”

His hips thrust in and out, and the heat and hunger increase exponentially. I whimper at the way my skin feels. Tight. Hot. Panting, I know I’m close.

“Teague,” I say breathlessly. “Please.”

He slides his hand between us, and I moan. He knows exactly where to touch me to make me shatter. I explode and clench his body as wave after wave rolls over me. His release hits seconds after mine, and he gives a low moan as he comes.

Breathing heavily, he drops his forehead onto my chest. “You’re amazing.” After a second, he lifts his body from mine and rolls to the side, his signature broad grin on his face. “That was a hell of a good start to forever.”

It hits me. “We didn’t use a condom.”

He winces. “Damn. Sorry, sweetheart. I was so caught up in you saying yes I forgot to tell you it isn’t necessary. Gargoyles control that aspect. I know you told me you want children, so the timing is up to you. When you’re ready, you can decide if you want the biological father to be me or Macklin. To be honest, I can’t wait to be a father, regardless of who you choose.” His grin returns at the thought.

I run my finger over his mouth. “I must have sketched this smile a hundred times, wondering who you were, what role I’d play in your life. Not in my wildest dreams did I think you were meant to be mine.”

He captures my hand and raises it to his lips to place a kiss on my palm. “Yours. Mine.” His sterling blue-grey eyes begin to glow. His body stirs, and his cock twitches, hardening again.

“Hmm, and you want to know the best part?” I ask, sliding one leg over him and sitting up. I reach down and line him up, then slowly sink down. “You fit.”

I’m sitting on the couch in one of Teague’s T-shirts and a pair of his boxers, which for some reason are more comfortable than my pajamas, when Macklin and Andros walk in the next morning. Teague sets my gingerbread latte in front of me, and I take an appreciative sip and sigh. We were up almost all night. Setting it down, I search their weary faces.

“How did the hatching go?”

Andros lets a rare smile slip. “Incredible. I’d never seen a dragon born.”

Macklin comes over and scoops me up, carrying me down the hallway to Teague’s room. Holding me up against the door, he grips my hips and smashes his lips on mine, but unlike his other kisses, this one is hot and needy and wild.

Sensing his need, I match his passion with my own, until I have to pull my mouth away to catch a breath.

He freezes, then swears. “Sorry, love. Last night was a bit rough on me. Your hunger…Every pulsing need.…Not even a forty-mile run this morning could exhaust me.”

My face fills with fire. “You felt it? All of it?”

“Only glimpses of how you felt, when you came, not all of it,” he stumbles to explain. “It’s bad right now because our bond isn’t in place. Not that I want to rush into it or anything.”

“Is there anything I can do? To help?” I ask him, placing my hand over his jeans.

He closes his eyes, then vehemently shakes his head. “No, I need to get on the road. I’m meeting Kinji tonight. But when I get back in a couple days, I want to strip you down and taste you all over.”

“I’d like that,” I tell him as an image of his head between my legs flashes in my mind.

He chuckles and lets my feet drop, then tugs me back into the living room.

Andros is standing near the sofa, flipping through my sketchbook, and I walk over and grab it from him. “That’s private.” I open it to the page where I started to draw his stern lips, the light beard covering his jaw, his thick, burnished brown hair. “Here. The next few pages are of you. Or at least, your features.”

He flips through and studies each one, then turns to the last page where I’ve drawn his entire face. “And this one?”

My face flames. “I drew that one after we met.” I think about everything Teague said last night about Andros’ past. He’s my mate too. Whether either of us likes it or not. I don’t know if we’ll find our way, but the one thing I do know is I’m not afraid of him anymore. Before, in his office, his stare was intense but edged with a barely controlled hunger that both turned me on and made me feel like a deer in headlights. Now, he’s giving me whiplash with all his emotions, but the intense hunger is tempered.

“I’ve got to get on the road soon,” Macklin tells him.

“Where are you going?” Andros asks, his gaze swinging from him to Teague.

Teague grabs the file and holds it up, silently asking me if it’s okay if he shares it with Andros. When I nod, he puts it down in front of him.