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Chapter Ten
His eyes burned thathot, impossible molten gold and then his mouth was on hers.
“Mine,” he rasped against her lips. “Know that, Gia. I will not lose you again.”
Then she was in his arms and the world spun around them.
She gasped as he came down on her, a bed of supreme softness beneath them, the sheets slick, soft and cool under her back.
He chuckled against her lips. “An amazing skill, this glamour of yours, witchling.”
“Stop talking,” she demanded, biting his lower lip and shoving her hands into his hair.
He broke her grip with easy, inexorable skill and pinned her hands overhead. “Centuries, witchling. I’ve been alone centuries and thought you forever lost to me. I won’t last long at all if you keep with such greedy demands.”
She smiled up at him. “I’m still wearing my trousers and boots, dragon. How do you think to get me naked with my hands trapped and you pinning me down?”
“Gia...” He practically purred her name, pressing a hot, wet kiss to her neck before pulling away. He knelt between her thighs and released her, smiling as he made a languid display of putting his hands on his knees. “It seems there is much you do not know about a dragon’s skill with magic.”
She went to reach for him—and couldn’t.
Eyes widening, she craned her head to look overhead, glimpsing a faint shimmering around her trapped hands, but nothing else.
“That’s hardly fair.” She shot him a narrow look, but couldn’t stop her smile—and she could do nothing to control the burn of lust that arrowed down between her thighs, a greedy, pulsating ache that came with a scalding rush of wet heat.
Sorin’s nostrils flared, his pupils spiking.
“I smell the want on you.” He bent over her, rubbing his lips against hers as he reached down and cupped her between the thighs. “You’re already so deliciously wet, witchling. I’m starving for the taste of you.”
Her face flushed, excitement and need twisting through her with near painful intensity. “Don’t tease me.”
“Oh, but I will...many times. Tonight, I haven’t the patience.”
She gasped at the suddenness of his movements, the easy fluidity. She felt his hands at her ankles, but had little time to process the speed with which he stripped off her boots, then her trousers and sent them flying.
“Sorin!”
“Quiet, witchling,” he muttered from his place between her thighs. He’d stretched out and cupped her hips in his big hands, nuzzling her heat through the thin material of her panties.
The raw hunger in his voice sent shivers tripping through her veins and she instinctively went to close her thighs together against the pulse that shot straight to her core and clenched there like a fist. But she met the hard resistance of Sorin’s broad shoulders and moaned in frustration.
He licked her through her panties and growled as she arched up, rubbing against him.
“Be still,” he said, nipping the flesh of her inner thigh.
She whimpered and jerked against her hands, startled all over again when she couldn’t move them, the ephemeral feel of Sorin’s hands so vivid against her skin. But then he slid the tips of his fingers under the narrows strips of fabric riding high on her hips—there was a sudden tug and the scrap of fabric was gone and his tongue...oh, Underhill and heaven help her. His tongue. It was a living, silken flame, teasing and circling and toying with her clit, delving down between her folds and piercing her, pushing deep inside her, far, deeper than it seemed humanly possible.
But Sorin wasn’t human.
She cried out in shocked, tormented delight as she came, the pleasure slamming into her like a fist. Panting, still coming down from the orgasm, she opened her eyes and found him hovering over her, watching with eyes that burned with golden flames.
“Mine,” he murmured, cradling her face with hands so gentle, it made her want to weep.
She reached for him, feeling like she’d crack open with all the emotions rioting through her. She didn’t realize she’d been freed from the magical restraints, only that she was, and that she could touch him. Burying her fingers in his hair, she clung to him, twining one leg around his, and still she wasn’t close enough. He wasn’t close enough.
“Be inside me,” she demanded, pressing a line of kisses along his strong jaw, felt it tremble against her lips. Her eyes burned when she realized just why—it was her. She made him, the famed Golden Dragon so many spoke of in hushed whispers, tremble.
“Beloved.” Sorin pressed his brow to hers. “I...Gia...”
