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Sorin muttered under his breath in a language she didn’t recognize and she lifted her lids. “What did you say?”
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” he said, lowering one hand to trace a finger along the skin of her thigh, lifting it to stare in wonder as the glow from her Fae self—her true self—seem to cling to him a moment before falling back to sink back inside her. “And you want to drive me mad.”
“We’ll drive each other a little mad for a long time to come, dragon mine.” She rolled her hips lazily, then moaned as she finally seated herself fully on him.
He responded by arching up with a hoarse shout, his hands coming to clamp down on her thighs as he spoke again, speaking again in a language she didn’t understand. But Gia didn’t have to know the words to understand swearing. It had a universal tone in all languages. Laughing, she covered his hands with hers and moved on him, taking him deeper, harder.
“What language is it?” she asked, falling forward to brace her weight on his shoulders.
“What?” He looked at her with confusion, eyes burning, locked on her without truly seeing as he shuddered beneath her, as his cock pulsed and throbbed inside her, so hot it should hurt. So hot he should burn...but he didn’t burn her, except in the sweetest of ways.
“The words you’re speaking...I don’t know them. What are you saying to me?”
He groaned and arched his head back, grinding it into the soft mattress as if it was rock and broken stone beneath him. “I’m swearing at you for being a taunting minx. That second time was Romanian—very old Romanian, mixed with a bit of the language only my father’s people know. Witchling...stop taunting me.”
Gia laughed and rocked against him again, only to moan as he jerked upright in the bed, the movement driving him deep inside her. A startled cry escaped her as brilliant, golden light spilled out behind him, the ghostly echo of dragon wings tracing through the dim air before fading away.
He shoved a hand into her hair and hauled her mouth to his. “I...can’t...I need you too much...”
Then he was kissing her, a wet, rough melding of their mouths that was all teeth and tongue and tormented hunger.
Gia curled her arms around him and gave herself up to it, to him.
When he broke away, panting, she whispered against his cheek, “Have me, dragon. However you need me. Have me.”
“Gia...”
“Have me,” she said. “I give myself to you. Give yourself to me.”
He went preternaturally still, not moving.
It was like he didn’t even breathe and the eye contact was stunning. Gia held her breath as she fell into that gaze, noticing for the first time ever that there were actually shades to the impossible gold, ranging from a paler amber to deep, lustrous honey.
Then they moved and he was on her.
She cried out his name as he came into her, hard and fast and rough, just as she hoped for, just as she’d longed for, all the empty places inside her filled—finally filled.
Sorin shoved his hand into her hair and twisted the short, choppy curls around his fingers, trapping her head in place as he took her mouth. His tongue stroked deep, licking heat into her mouth as his cock stroked heat into her core.
She came hard and first only seconds after he’d flipped them over and covered her. Before her breath even returned to her, she was coming again. Tears filled her eyes and her heart beat so hard, she thought it would explode from her chest.
But she needed more, needed all.
“Please,” she demanded, dragging his mouth back to hers when he went to kiss away the tears.
And he came back to her, kissed her harder, kissed her hungrier.
Sorin’s magic filled him and broke over them, the glimmery trace of his wings lighting up the darkness as he swore in forgotten languages and praised her in others.
“Gia...” he moaned as his own orgasm raced closer. “I... fuck me, witchling...”
“With me this time, Sorin,” she ordered, cupping his face and pressing her brow to his. “With me. Together.”
And so he gave in, control shattering to fall at her feet, and together, they fell.
Or maybe they flew.
They were so lost in each other in that moment, neither could tell.
