Page 11 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

What?

“The formal dining room. Drinks in the drawing room first. One hour. Don’t be late, it pisses off the chef.”

“Um, okay? Will anyone else—”

He didn’t even let her finish. With terrifying suddenness he was right there, looming over her, one hand wrapped around her neck. She’d barely seen him move.

He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips hot and hard on hers. She froze for a second, and then heat flooded through her and her lips parted on their own. His softened against hers, deepening the kiss, his tongue meeting hers in a silken dance.

After an eternity, he pulled away. His pupils had elongated into vertical black slits with lightning in their depths. Oh, hell. Dragon.

His hand tightened around her throat, and when he spoke, his voice was low, raspy, and completely terrifying.

“Stay away from him, Nightmare Wolf,” it said. “You are right. He is no good for you.”

Trish felt her eyes go round and wide. Holy fuck.

Another one of those lightning moves, and he was at the door. He turned back to her, his dragon still in his eyes, and in his voice. “And you will not destroy me.”

He was out the door and gone before she even had a chance to open her mouth.

Chapter 6

Emon leaned against the wall outside the door to Trish’s room. His heart was racing, his dick was throbbing, and his brain seemed to have completely shut down.

She was a witch. Had to be.

One minute he’d been inviting the fucking Nightmare Wolf to dinner—why?—and the next he was outside her door, without knowing how he got there.

Did something just happen? he asked his dragon. Then another suspicion crossed his mind. Did you do something?

Silence.

You did, didn’t you?

Oh, fuck. His dragon was running amok, his magic was barely working, and he’d invited the Nightmare Destructo-Wolf to dinner. Why the hell had he even done that?

Because she was beautiful. Not just on the outside. She was a shining star inside, just like he’d seen from the sky. Warm and bright. Just being near her made him feel… things.

He didn’t feel things. Not anymore.

But she made that cold ball of ice in the center of his chest feel like it was melting. Just a little.

It had made him want to spend more time with her. Which bad for everyone. Numb was better. He hardly ever wanted to kill people when he was numb.

It had also made him for real want to drag her off and take her from behind, bury himself in her and make her howl with pleasure. He wondered how long it would actually take to set up a sex dungeon.

Thanks for the tip.

Damn women all to hell. No good could come of this.

He’d only gone to her room to meet her, get a feel for how dangerous she was.

The answer: more dangerous than he could possibly have imagined.