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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rowan
My back hits the ground and I moan with pleasure. Xander hovers over me, trailing kisses like a falling star, each touch burning in the best possible way. His muscular body is hard, exquisite. I’ve wanted this since that first day I saw him emerge from behind the waterfall, dripping wet and glorious.
Today is quite a different day. He’s covered in soot instead of water, but still just as heavenly. He’d walked through fire to get to me. We are two of the same kind, a match like no other. My magic surges at the thought, and tiny flames flicker from my hands as I dig my fingernails into his back, pulling him closer. I need him inside of me more badly than I’ve needed anything in my entire life.
Xander groans as my nails rake his skin, and he sucks my lower lip between his teeth, tugging it until a ripple of pleasure mixed with pain elicits a gasp from my throat. I buck my hips up into him and wrap one of my legs around his back. The hard tip of him is so close to my sweet core that I’m about to lose my mind.
He reaches a hand down and runs two fingers over the slick entrance to my sex. One finger in, and then another. I gasp and arch against him, and his shaft twitches and lengthens even more. He pulls his hand back out and then sticks his wet fingers into my mouth. I suck the sweetness from them, then bite him gently and buck my hips again.
“Rowan,” Xander moans, “You are…”
He doesn’t finish saying what I am. With a swift move, he slides into me, deep and hard. I cry out as a wave of ecstasy rockets through me. He pulls back, almost all the way, then plunges in again. This time he lets out his own growl of pleasure.
His movement slows then, teasing me as he glides slowly in and out of my slickness. He undulates his hips in perfect rhythm, each gyration sending a spike of bliss through my core. We’re both burning so hot it feels like a universe is forming between us, an unstoppable magic. I’m practically seeing stars, my head fuzzy and my body ablaze.
I rock my hips up each time he slides in, deepening the thrust. Xander’s mouth hovers over mine, alternating between a long, probing kiss and pausing to look deeply into my eyes. They glow golden, like the dragon he is. Ripples of pleasure start to take over, an orgasm blossoming within me, my breath coming in short gasps.
It builds like a tsunami, wave after wave moving through me, as I cry out louder and louder. Xander picks up his speed, pulling me closer against him, reaching down to hook his arm under my leg that’s hitched around his back, lifting it higher. Sparks fly off my skin, and my magic rolls out around us.
“Look at me, Rowan,” Xander growls as the pleasure spikes. I meet his golden eyes.
And then I am lost to it. Ecstasy crashes over me, an explosion of perfect pleasure. I shudder and cry out, and then Xander joins me, his body jerking with the force of his own climax, his yell mingling with my own. He keeps thrusting as we ride out the intensity of it, and our magic pulses across the meadow.
When the orgasm fades, Xander rolls to the side and pulls me against him. We’re both breathing heavily, covered in sweat and grass and soot. I rest my cheek on his chest, and he strokes my hair. His heartbeat is loud beneath my ear. Our limbs tangle together in soporific bliss.
“I’ve never experienced anything like that,” Xander whispers against my hair, kissing the top of my head.
“Me either,” I say breathlessly. “And our magic…”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Unreal.”
We lay there in silence for several minutes. Xander traces my shoulders lightly with one finger, and I listen while his heartbeat slows. Our bodies both cool, which is probably for the best, so we don’t start a forest fire. After a while, he reaches down and places a finger under my chin, guides my mouth to his. He kisses me softly, sweet and yet so tantalizing that my pulse starts to race again. I slide my hand down to his ass and pull us closer together. Xander’s kiss intensifies and he squeezes one of my breasts with his free hand, his thumb working over my nipple. I moan against his lips.
Then he pulls back abruptly, his eyes burning into me. “God, you’re going to be my undoing, Rowan.”
“Is that a bad thing?” I tease, brushing my hand down the side of his face, tracing his lips with a fingertip.
“It is,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly, as if he’s in pain. “I’ve broken my vow. And if I’m around you, I’m going to break it again and again and again.”
I stiffen against him. “What do you mean, if?”
“I told you. My father was killed by the Raven Society. Back in the war, the witches were smuggling bad stuff. Like supernatural arms dealers. We got involved, and the high priestess killed him. I swore then to watch over them, make sure they didn’t do something like that again. And…” he pauses, looks down a moment, then back up. “And to end the Society if at all possible.”
Pushing myself up off the ground, I sit back and stare at him. I’m suddenly so confused. “Wait, what war? The Iraq War?”
He shakes his head, expression grim. “The Revolutionary War.”
I feel my eyebrows shoot up. “In the 1700s?”
“I’m a dragon shifter,” Xander says. He sits up, too, facing me. “We live a very long time. You will, too, now that you’ve claimed your magic.”
I blink several times. There’s so much to unpack in what he’s said. Xander is several hundred years old? And I could live that long, too? But there’s a more pressing point in the bombshell he’d just dropped. “So, you’re holding a grudge against the witches from over two hundred years ago?”
Xander frowns and crosses his massive arms over his chest. “I hardly think grudge is the right word in relation to my father’s murder.”
“I don’t mean to minimize it.” I hug my knees to my chest. “But the witches here, do you really think they would do something like that now? They seem quite peaceable.”
