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Almost as if he were offering his flesh to her.
As well as the pearly drop of clear nectar that oozed from the engorged, beautifully flushed tip.
“You make me this way, Brigid,” he said in that deep, rumbly voice.
“You make me so hard, I ache.”
Her jaw dropped just like it had on the beach. She was helpless to hold it up.
Not when he was displayed in all his masculine, naked glory likethis. Not when he said enflaming things likethat.
“Umm…” she repeated her inane refrain, staring wide-eyed and dumbfounded at him, not quite sure where to look first.
But the dewy tip of his member seemed as good a place as any to focus on. It was staring at her again like a one-eyed beast, winking tears out of its swollen slit.
She desperately wanted to taste him.
“Will you touch me now, Brigid?” the serpent invited in a low, vibrating purr.
“There is a need I cannot name. Only that you are at the center of it. I think only you can take away the pain.”
By sheer force of will, she tore her eyes reluctantly from his maleness to travel slowly up his body to his face.
Clear, diamond eyes glittered openly back at her.
She felt as if she was gazing straight into his soul. Filled with courage, determination, steadfastness, goodness, and an alluring combination of innocence and primal sensuality.
As she looked into his eyes, she knew—
This was a man who’d never been touched before. Not in this form. Not with this intimacy. It stood to reason, that he’d also never been kissed before. Not on those lips, and certainly not byher.
Only in dreams.
It was long past time to make it real.
In that moment she knew. She’d never wanted anyone, anything, as much as she wanted Sai. And she never would.
He was her dragon, her prince. Whatever he was called, whatever he was, he washers.
And he was waiting, now, for her to claim him.
So, she would.
Brigid reached out with a remarkably steady hand, just barely glancing the round of his shoulder.
Instead of goosebumps, tiny, micro-scales flipped over onto his skin in a cascade of overlapping shimmers, radiating from where she’d touched him.
She gasped with delight and fascination and trailed her fingers lightly over the length of his arm. The scales followed her, covering his skin as she went along, then pulling back again like the fading of a blush.
“Does it always do this?” she asked in a reverent whisper, as if the scale-skin was alive and would retreat into shyness if she spoke too loudly.
“No,” he murmured, watching his own skin react to her touch as she watched.
“Never.”
“So beautiful,” she said softly, watching the scales slide over his skin and disappear again as she brushed her fingers over the back of his hand, his wrist, and then his palm.
“It’s like the finest chainmail,” she noted. “I wonder if it would cover your entire body if you willed it.”
