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“I know.” I rocked forward and kissed him. As I did so, the surrounding dream changed to mirror my chambers at his palace. We now stood beside the bed I’d last spent the night with him in. “You need to go back to Earth. Talk to Leif, and open with the fact that I have Quinn.”
Mrak growled again. “No. I will not interact with the same demon hunter who threatened to tear us apart.”
“You don’t have a choice,” I said as I held his face. “Not unless Karn magically knows a ward for Sylas. And even if he did, I wouldn’t trust it. Or him, for that matter.”
Mrak’s nostrils flared. “Karn is trustworthy.”
“Enough for this?” I asked. “If he knows a ward, and you’d risk my life on his knowledge, then by all means ask Karn.”
Mrak pulled me close to him again, pressing our bodies together. His touch stole my breath and, even in a dream, I could sense our magic intertwining together. His fingers trailed down my back and sides, down to my hips, hooking beneath the clothes I was wearing.
“I trust Karn more than I trust your demon hunter.” Mrak’s fingers dipped until he was cupping my bare ass with his clawed hands. “But I will get you the ward however is needed. We will end this before it gets far enough to raise Dakta, before we are forced to see if myth is real.”
“Sounds good to me,” I all but purred at the feel of Mrak’s touch. It was like all of my senses were heightened here. His touch, his smell. The sound of his voice. It surrounded me—overwhelmed me. “I miss you, Mrak.”
He leaned down and captured my mouth with his, leaning into the kiss, his tongue immediately delving past my lips. It sent a shiver of excitement shooting right down to my core. Mrak shifted his hands, pushing down my pants until he had his thumb over my most sensitive spot. He ran it in slow, nearly idle circles as I moaned into his mouth.
“I miss you, too,” he said as he trailed his lips against my jaw and down my neck. I nearly melted at the touch—Iwantedto. “I will kill my brother if he lays hands on you.”
“You assume I wouldn’t have already tried—” My words were cut off by a moan that tore from my lips as Mrak slipped a massive claw inside me.
His lips brushed my ear, and he growled, “You aremine. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
Mrak drove his claw inside of me again. My hips bucked. A need swelled within me for more and now. Him inside me and that nothing else existed. Not a looming war. Not a feud between brothers.
Just me and Mrak as it had been for the last year.
“I will come to you tomorrow with an army Sylas is not prepared for,” Mrak said as he lifted me until I could straddle his hips. He carried me toward a wall. “We will end this by sundown tomorrow.”
Air was knocked from my lungs as my back hit the brick, but Mrak pressed into me harder, rocking his rock-hard length against my core. He now wore no clothes at all—another concoction of this dream. He clawed through my shirt until my breasts were free.
“Just stay with me now,” I begged, my voice breathless. “Please stay with me.”
Mrak held my gaze as he lined his length up with my core. “Of course, my queen.” He slid slowly inside. We both gasped as he filled me. Satisfied. Pleasured.
He then began a slow pace, careful and methodical in ways we’d not yet explored as a couple. Not a single movement was rushed, but every moment enjoyed. And when our orgasms came, we tensed and came together.
