Page 35 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

Goodbye to the pants.

And then her hands were on his shaft, cupping his balls, and her lips were on his neck, kissing and biting, bitey wolf, he loved his sexy bitey wolf.

She pushed her hand up under his shirt, and it rucked up, exposing his wound. Her fingers brushed over it, and he flinched back.

The familiar pain that had faded to the background flared suddenly, and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her from touching it.

Trish froze.

He couldn’t stand for her to touch that part of him. He didn’t even want her to see it. Hideous, gaping, oozing—a huge patch of skin burned away and the exposed flesh poisoned. A reminder of his ugliness, his despair.

She raised her gaze to his, eyes wide, and he begged her silently to let it go, leave this alone, pretend it wasn’t there.

Instead, still holding his gaze, she gently pulled his shirt back down over the wound, resting her hand on the hem of it, just over his hip.

Then she did something he’d never have expected in a dragon’s lifetime. She slid down and dropped a feather-light kiss over the wound. Then she moved up and wrapped her arms around him, body to body, and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

The lump of ice in his chest cracked open, and golden starlight spread through him, followed by a desire so intense it dwarfed everything that came before. With a groan, he rolled her on her back and buried himself deep inside her.

For a moment he couldn’t move. The feel of her surrounding him was so intense he felt like he was going to explode.

Trish made a small, utterly sexy sound and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeply inside her, one arm around his neck, one around his hips.

When he was sure he wasn’t going to send them both up in a pillar of flames, Emon pulled partway out and thrust in again.

Stars and comets and molten lava. And feelings—feelings forgotten, feelings he didn’t know he had, barreling down on him like a river in flood. A force of nature, unstoppable, inescapable.

He knew when they reached him, he would be destroyed.

He thrust into her again and again, trying to stay ahead of the flood, trying to lose himself in the intensity of the pleasure.

But as the pleasure rose, the flood grew closer. He thrust into her faster and harder, and she moaned and met him thrust for thrust, welcoming him in, deeper and deeper inside her.

And still there was no escape.

He threw his head back, desperate for release, for escape, for her warmth and sweetness, for everything he’d missed in his life.

And then everything coalesced at the base of his spine, shining star turned supernova, shattering him into separate molecules and sending him out into space.

The flood swept him away, and he was lost.

Chapter 18

Emon lay on the rooftop, Trish tucked into the curve of his shoulder as she slept, her hair spreading like satin across his arm.

Blue lightning danced around them, outlining their bodies. As it flickered back and forth, around and around, he could feel it binding them together, weaving together their hearts and souls and bodies.

Like a breathtaking magical net.

He could feel his dragon pushing back against the bond, wanting to get out. Already trying to break free.

Because binding people to you, being bound to them with love or magic or responsibility, was a cage. No freedom. No escape.

And she would die, because she was a wolf, with a normal lifespan. Or he would die first, of his wound, and leave her heart torn in two. Or he’d live, which would be even worse.

Centuries, alone in his cage. Never to find happiness with anyone else.