Page 101 of Under Restless Skies

He puts a hand over his chest. “Fiery like my heart, Mayara.”

I laugh, then look down. “Last night… was very strange. It had nothing to do with you.”

“I’m not complaining. I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice low, comforting, caressing something inside me. “Still can’t let you go. Still can’t forget you. Tell me you’ll be my queen. Tell me you want this.”

For some reason, I hesitate. “We don’t know each other that well. I’m not saying no.”

He leans even closer, enveloping me in his inebriating scent as he runs a hand through my hair. “I know more than enough about you. How many other women would have walked into a dragon nest? I don’t want a pretty fool. I want someone who can handle me. Someone who’s not afraid of being strong. Someone who can be a queen. That’s you. I’ve made my choice—and I get everything I want.”

His words make me tremble, but I stare at him as if in a challenge, and keep my tone playful. “You think your arrogance is endearing?”

“Not at all. I think it’s intimidating, and that’s how I like it. May all the weaklings run away. I want someone strong. I want you.”

I’m so flustered that an unrelated thought comes to mind. “What happened to your roommate?” I’m thinking of the young man Mallor told me was murdered, wondering if by any chance Alayel who killed him.

Alayel tilts his head and grimaces, visibly puzzled, the mood in the room shifting at once. “You want to know that now?”

Fine, it’s a weird time, but I need to know. “One of your roommates, he disappeared, did he not? Was he the one who was going to accompany you to the Kingdom of the Riders?”

“Oh. Yes. I think… he ran away. With all the talk of negotiating with smugglers, I suppose he found a way to escape Dracolius, escape the academy. In the end, he never planned to help me. Maybe he even conspired with those smugglers who betrayed us.” The slight rasp in his voice makes me believe him.

“Maybe.” I don’t want to mention that his roommate was murdered, as I don’t want to reveal how I got that information. Perhaps I should tell him that his friend didn’t run away, but something makes me stop.

Alayel looks at me. “You thought I had tricked him or something, didn’t you?”

“No. I didn’t know. After he disappeared, were you planning to steal the eggs on your own?”

He nods. “At first, yes, then I saw you, saw what you did. I figured Foros was watching out for me.”

“Right. And yet I failed at the Foros table.”

“That wasn’t my fault.” He traces the line of my jaw. “And now you’re where you wanted, aren’t you? Sometimes we need to be patient.”

His thumb finds my lower lip, and I let it part me open as I close my eyes, basking in his touch.

The candles blur at the edges of my vision, my heart beating fast in my chest, when the image of the rider comes to mind, as if my vision had been real.

The rider, the rider. Stupid obsession.

Alayel’s right here—and I make up my mind. I don’t need to complicate things, don’t need to think. All I need to do is surrender.

I open my eyes, and our gazes lock. A second of understanding.

Our bodies collide, his mouth claiming mine in a rush of heat, warmth spreading through my body. We only break apart for the second it takes him to yank his shirt over his head, then he’s kissing me again, his hands unlacing my dress and lowering it quickly, then moving to the brassiere across my chest, unwrapping it with the desperation of someone who can’t wait even a second longer.

He lifts me and lays me down across his wide bed, his eyes dark and ravenous as he removes the rest of my undergarments, then devours me with his stare, stopping between my legs, igniting a new heat there. A new want.

His eyes then move to my breasts.“I adore these,” he murmurs, his voice a soft caress.

He takes one nipple between his lips, the soft feel of his tongue shooting straight to my core, and I arch into him with a gasp.

I don’t want any intrusive memories of the rider, the dragon, or the staff to interrupt us, so I push him and flip our positions. Now he’s the one lying down, and I’m straddling him, feeling the thick ridge of his cock straining against his trousers. I rock against him, grinding down until his hands fly to my waist, fingers digging in hard, then I move back and caress his perfectly sculpted stomach, golden under the candlelight, then lower my hands slowly.

He lets out a soft gasp as I unlace and remove his trousers, freeing his cock—already hard for me. I stroke it slowly, feeling its pulse throbbing against my fingertips, watching the way he closes his eyes, the way his lush lips part.

But his surrender lasts only a few seconds. Then his dangerous, dark eyes meet mine, and he flips me over, then pulls me to the edge of the bed, where he kisses my thighs, slowly making his way to my core.

The first feeling is… ticklish. And I laugh.