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“I don’t want to.” Curling a leg around his thigh, she arched up and rubbed against him, shuddering as the pleasure rolled through her. Through the barriers of clothes separating them, she felt his erection pulse. “Sorin...”
“Witchling...” The word came out a broken rasp and he swore, gripping her by the hip and rocking against her, once, twice, a third time, before jerking back too quickly for her to catch hold of him and stop him from breaking contact. He ended up on his knees, crouched a foot away.
“We shouldn’t do this.”
That was what he said. But the way he watched her...oh, the way he watched her, it said something else entirely.
“Why?” She went to her knees as well, then onto to her hands, crawling toward him like a cat stalking prey.
Sorin’s lids drooped. “Perhaps because the first time I take you, I’d rather it be on a bed with sheets that are soft against your skin, not on the rough ground.”
“Really...”
She caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth, then canted her head the side, staring at a small, sectioned space of the garage that looked like a stall for an animal, a horse, maybe.
Closing her eyes, she drew on the magic inside her, felt it welling up, then spilling out. As it did so, she formed it and was pleased to hear a low murmur of surprise from the powerful male across from her.
“What magic...” His question faded and he shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. Moving closer, he touched the bed, then leaned down on it, testing the fat mattress. “Fae glamour. Such a strange gift.”
“You wanted a bed, dragon. There you have it.” She rose with a smile, her hands moving to the hem of her shirt.
At her movement, his gaze returned to hers.
“Witchling...” His voice trailed off, turning into a growl as she pulled her plain gray tee off. “Woman, you must want to drive me mad.”
“No. I want you to take me to bed.” Reaching up and back, she freed her hair from the hair-tie. Then, as he continued to keep his distance, Gia huffed out a sigh. “Very well, dragon. You’re giving me no choice. It seems I have to play dirty.”
She released the glamour she wore that hid her true self, smiling slowly as Sorin staggered back several steps, his eyes widening.
“Tell me, great golden dragon,” she asked, her real voice sounding in the air like jeweled bells. “Do you know how tiresome it is, wearing glamour all the time?”
“Gia...”
SHE WAS...PERFECTION.
A golden goddess with skin that glimmered like alabaster, lit from within. Her hair was no longer a pale sunny blond, but a thousand shades that ranged from buttery yellow to honey brown to glimmering shades that matched the gold of his scales. The strands hung in thick, wavy curls to a few inches past her shoulders. Her eyes weren’t just green but a dozen shades that ranged from jade to emerald to the lovely tropical tones of a lagoon he’d once seen on his travels.
“Fuck me, you’re lovely,” he rasped. “Utterly lovely.”
She smiled, a feline, female smile so full of confidence, he wanted to go to his knees and worship her. She reached up and stroked her hands over the waistband of her trousers, a pair of dark brown pants she wore tucked into boots not too dissimilar from the pair he’d liberated from one of the corpses he’d found at the foot of the mountain. Tapping a finger on the button, she winked at him and freed the snap.
“Gia.” He closed the distance between them and caught her wrists, dragging them behind her and pinning them at her back. “You’re about to push me past the limits of my control—nobody does that to me and yet you’re very close.”
“Is control so very important, dragon?” She tipped her head back and smiled at him, sensual temptation personified.
He shifted both of her wrists to one hand and cupped her jaw in his freed palm. Slamming his mouth down on hers, he plundered it, tongue driving past her lips in a demand for submission.
She gave it. So sweetly, she gave it, leaning into him and letting his broader, stronger body take her weight as he devoured her.
But after that short, delicious claiming, he broke away and pressed his brow to hers, panting.
“This isn’t how it should happen, witchling. I’ve plans to woo you, court you, because this isn’t going to be a one-time thing. You and I, we belong together. Think it madness if you must, but it’s the truth.”
“Oh, dragon.” In a move that displayed a sly strength and grace, she freed herself. Then she pushed onto her toes and curled her arms around his neck, smiling into his eyes. “The first time I saw you on that mountaintop, it hit me. Here.”
She reached down and took his hand, guiding it to her chest and pressing it to her sternum until he could feel the hard, driving rhythm of her heart.
“I know your eyes,” she whispered. “I don’t understand it. I can’t explain it.”
He sucked in a breath, struck to the core of his being. “Witchling...”
She inclined her head, studying him.
Whatever she saw, it made her smile, although it was bittersweet and sad.
“Whatever it is you think I don’t understand...you’re wrong. I may not know all of it, but we’re connected. I feel it.” She pushed a hand through his hair, cradled his scalp. “But we’ve time for it later, yes?”
He freed his hand from hers, reached up to palm her cheek. “You may hate me when you learn the truth, witchling. This is...not our first encounter, Gia.”
Her eyes clouded over and a sigh shuddered out of her. “I already knew that. But those secrets are still hidden from me and that tells me I’m not ready to know them. But one thing I do know—I thought I knew what it was to live, to know pleasure, even passion. Then you kissed me, brash, arrogant bastard you are and after that, everything I’d known before was nothing. My life started the moment I saw you. Now...stop denying me. Stop denying us both.”
