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Tristan scooped her up in his arms and twirled her around. His shout of joy was so contagious that for the moment it didn’t matter that she was inexplicably exposed. Then he let her body slide down his, yet still holding her aloft, he slanted his lips over hers. She melted for him instantly, like butter in a microwave. Her hands flew across his shoulders, his back, through his hair, needing the sensation of his skin under her fingers.
“Are you well?” he panted between kisses, pulling back every so often as if he wanted to stop and assess her fully but couldn’t bring himself to let her go. “How do you feel? Do you hurt?”
“I amsogood,” she assured him. One could have never guessed that only twenty minutes ago there’d been a two-inch-wide hole in her torso and a to-the-bone gash in her leg. Her body felt amazing. And a slow fire was blooming in her gut, sparked by Tristan’s lips, his smell, sweat and spice and all man. She wanted nothing more than to shove him to the ground and ride him harder than a carousel horse, but a question kicked at the back of her mind. “Did I just breathe ice?”
“Appears so.” Letting her feet meet the ground, he kissed her shoulder, trailing his lips along the line of her neck. Meanwhile his hands dipped south to cup her ass and give her a possessive squeeze.
That sent shivers along her skin. “How is that possible?”
“Can’t say.” More kiss. More squeezing.
“Also, why am I naked?”
He lightly nipped her neck. “Because you turned into a dragon.”
“But you were never naked after you turned.”
“Because a king canna be caught with his pants down.”
“How do you do it, though?”
“Love. You just came back from the dead. Can we do questions after I’ve made love to you?”
She smiled up at him. “What, you can’t multitask?”
He gave her a toothy grin. “Blood’s no’ in the right bits for that.”
She reached down to cup his engorged crotch. His thick member jerked against his pants as though it was trying to rip through the fabric to get to her.
It took them only seconds to get his clothes off and then they were rolling on the beach, kissing and losing themselves in each other’s body. Positioning himself between her legs, he snatched her to him as he thrust forward. She cried out at his invitation, and pure ecstasy lit her from within.
“I thought I lost you,” he grunted, shoving into her again and again at a punishing pace.
“I’m here, baby.Ahh, God, you feel so good.”
“Tell me you’ll stay with me. I need to hear it.” The desperation in his voice filled her with the need to ease him.
“I’ll stay with you. I’ll marry you. I love you so much.” He fell over her, claiming her lips with his in such a fierce kiss, June lost her breath. When she broke away, she blurted, “I can’t believe all that’s happened.” His body found a rhythm that drew a moan from her. “How is any of this even possible?”
Tristan merely grunted, his hips pistoning between her legs. Pleasure bloomed in her belly.
“Seriously, though. How does the keep-your-clothes thing work?”
He grumbled. “Your mind is not on the task at hand.”
“Sure it is.” She groaned when he found a spot that lit her up. “But to be fair, much has happened in the last hour that requires rumination.”
“If I tell you, will you turn your brain off with me?”
“Absolutely.”
He sighed, hesitating. Then he muttered, “The clothes are…bespelled.”
She gasped. “By witches?”
“Aye. There is a small coven we trade with. They have gained a modicum of our trust.”
“I would like to meet them.”
