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I clamped around him, thighs and arms squeezing, as his knot lodged itself inside of me like aboulderthat had made me its home. The pressure seemed to compound and expand and grow and grow, in my core, my heart, my throat, behind my eyes, until there was nowhere left for it to travel.
Conall bellowed and his hips churned forward in a beautiful swooping motion, and the pressure burst. I sobbed as I came, an earthquake that ran through me, stole my breath, wiped my vision clean and bright. Conall kept moving, slow and deep, and his mouth was at my ear, my jaw, my cheek, brief kisses and licks. He was gasping, molten heat flooding me. His hands scooped under my ass, tilted me just an inch, and we fastened together like a perfect single piece, as if we'd always meant to fit this way. The painful pleasure sweetened, turned syrupy and soft, left me limp and drunk and grinning. It rode me in the waves of Conall's movement, his brow furrowed as he stared down at me and rocked inside of me, tender flutterings echoing out of every motion, running a decadent path through my muscles.
"Oh, Evie," he whispered, and I could barely hear the plea of my name under the roar of my own blood rushing through my veins, his gasps ragged and loud in my ears.
"Kiss," I begged, and his mouth sealed to mine.
A perfect circuit, I thought, our bodies now twice fastened. Our tongues licked and twined, our breaths wove through one another. I wasn't empty at all. I wasn't broken. I just hadn't tried putting the right pieces together before now. I'd been missingthis.
* * *
"I can't fall asleep,"I murmured, fighting to keep my eyes open under the assault of Conall's gentle, thorough massage.
"Not if you keep forcing yourself to stay awake," Conall agreed lightly, thumbs stroking firmly down my spine, pleasant little pops echoing and tingling after his touch.
"No, I mean…" I groaned as he dug into my lower back and then shook my head. "I mean that Birsha has been getting into my head while I sleep. Using nightmares to drain me, torment me."
Conall stiffened as I started to speak, and by the end he had me rolled onto my back.
Sometime after the endless rocking storm of sensation of his knot inside of me, Conall had calmed and slipped free. I'd watched, curled on my side, as he'd built us a small fire in the hearth, his lean lines glowing in the light, tail swinging absently against the back of his bare thighs, brushing through the curling red hair on his legs. He returned to the bed, wrapping himself around me and kissing me until I couldn't breathe.
I looked up at him now and studied his face. Was it the glow of the fire, or were the circles under his eyes now softened?
"Evie, he's beenwhat?"
I opened my mouth to tell Conall about the nightmare that had thrown me out of a tower window and then shut it once more. He was more relaxed than when he'd arrived at the castle, and I thought that might ruin his mood. Instead, I explained what Hywel had learned and how.
"Hywel keeps them from returning," I said, letting my hands wander over the firm, broad planes of Conall's chest.
Conall stared down at me, holding his breath for a beat before releasing it slowly. "Well, I suppose the sleepy beast is good for something."
"Generous of you."
I startled, but Conall must've known Hywel was there, hovering in the dark hall outside of the bedroom, because he only winked at me and rolled to his side to face the still open door.
"I did wonder why the Wyrm was so eager to visit in person. Did you toss him out the back again?" Conall asked Hywel.
Hywel leaned in the doorway, ankles crossed, a sweetly scented smoke rising from a rolled cigarette held between his fingers. Not tobacco, according to Laszlo, but dried flowers—a treat Hywel liked to indulge in. The dragon's gaze flicked between us, but he didn't seem tense or irritated to find me with Conall, just curious. "I considered dropping him into the dreaming sea, but I'd feel sorry for wherever he washed up. I would've warned you not to involve him. He can't be trusted."
They both looked to me, and Conall's wily smile faded.
"Do you think he'd help Birsha?" Conall asked.
Hywel snorted and shook his head, rolling the cigarette in his fingers but never bringing it to his lips. "No dragon would. But he'll steal whatever he thinks is most valuable here. And you and I both know what that is," Hywel said. And this time neither one of them looked at me, simply held each other's gazes. Conall nodded once, first, and then Hywel dipped his head in answer. He straightened and smiled at me. "It's time to come back to the nest. Unless we're all sleeping here in this dusty little guest room."
"Conall tore my dress," I said, sitting up in the bed, stealing the sheet to wrap around me.
"Wicked puppy," Hywel purred.
Conall remained stretched on the bed, exposed as I slid to the edge and took the sheet with me, long and languid, all muscle and scar and lovely coppery red fur. Hywel examined the smoke curling around his fingers with a focus that pretended to be lazy but was really quite intentional.
"You can come along too, wolf. Laszlo certainly won't mind, nor our lovely treasure, I'm sure."
I ducked my head to hide my smile at the carefully casual invitation. Either Laszlo had said something, or Hywel missed nothing. Perhaps both.
When Conall didn't immediately answer, I turned to look back on the bed. Conall was staring at me, some cross between the desperation he'd been full of earlier and a cool reserve. He was sprawled on the bed, bare to our gazes, but I thought he seemed braced as if ready to fight or run.
"No nightmares," I murmured, reaching a hand out to him. "Just sleep."
