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Another honest answer. Another wall crumbled.
“I need you like I need to breathe, Moira. Like I need to fly.”
Was it the dark that made him speak words he never would in the light? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. It was enough that he’d said them.
I turned in his arms and cupped his face, tracing my fingers lightly over his raised scar. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew he could see my face with his dragon sight as if it were daytime. I let my eyes shine with a hope I knew he would understand.
“Like Morgons, I don’t date, either.” My fingers traced to the tip of his scar. “Nor am I the kind to sleep around to satisfy carnal cravings.” I trailed lightly over his lips. “I need you, too, Kol.”
I pressed my lips to his, prying them apart to slip my tongue inside. I kissed him the way a lover would kiss her mate. Boldly, shamelessly, like a woman who knows her right.
“I want you,” he grumbled. “Again.” Heavy hand on my waist.
His desire grew hard against my abdomen. I crooked my leg over his hip, opening for him. “Then take me.”
And so he did.
Chapter Eighteen
Irolled over to find him gone. With the terrace door sealed shut, I couldn’t tell what time it was. My comm sat on his pillow, blinking a green light. An audio message.
Propping up on my elbows, I pulled the device to me. The time read 10:33 a.m. in the top corner.
“Damn. Talk about oversleeping.”
I played the message.
“Good morning.” Kol’s deep rumble.
I couldn’t help the silly smile from creeping across my face.
The recording continued. “I didn’t want to wake you. Thought you might need your rest.”
Boy, did I.
“I didn’t get the chance to speak to you about my visit with Petrus last night. Lucius can fill you in till I return. I must meet with the Morgon Guard immediately. You’re safe to move freely within the Nightwing Tower, but don’t?—”
He stopped himself. He heaved in a deep breath and sighed. His voice lost the note of tyranny, morphing to something gentler. “Please, Moira. Please don’t leave this building. I will return as soon as I can.”
“Not a problem, Captain.”
Too tired to go to class or report to work, I thought a sick day was definitely in order. I stretched my body in the bed.
Before we had sex, I’d been able to pretend our attraction was just physical. Chemical. After last night, I could no longer believe this to be true. Nor did I want to.
But one thing puzzled me. I knew soulfire burned inside him. For me. He’d made his feelings quite clear. But he hadn’t sad a word about it. Not that I was ready to leap into such an irreversible commitment, but I still wanted to know why he hadn’t mentioned soulfire. Could I be wrong?
I scooted out of the covers and stood up. “Ow.”
I was sore. Everywhere. My Morgon man had loved me long and hard. I smiled as I remembered and walked stiffly to the bathroom. Peeking at myself in the mirror, I laughed. Even my lips were sore. Swollen from many, many rough kisses, not one of which I regretted. I had a mammoth-sized hickey bite-mark on the slope of my shoulder. “Now, that’s a doozy.”
Strangely, the only thing not sore was the stitched injury from two nights ago. I lingered in a hot shower, then slipped into my favorite jeans and a comfy rose-colored sweater. After braiding my damp hair into a tidy rope down my back, I rummaged through my drawer and found the silver case I’d hardly ever opened except to take it to the firing range. Popping open the lock, I pulled out the sleek Volt handgun I’d packed.
About a century ago, the Volt gun was a weapon specifically designed by the Wellington Manufacturing Company in Primus to kill Morgons . While my father held animosity toward Morgons, the Wellington family openly despised every one of them. Because of their powerful political sway in Primus, they’d kept desegregation laws from ever passing in the human-only city out west. A Volt gun worked by using a Morgon’s dragon DNA against them. Because of their dragon lineage, electricity voltage amplified the electric energy coursing through their blood and harnessed in their bones. A Volt gun essentially launched an electric missile, detonating on impact with a Morgon’s natural DNA. Although the blast could kill a human by heart failure, most could survive a direct hit. A Morgon definitely could not.
My father had insisted I take the gun and practice shooting on the range when he learned I was venturing into Morgon territory to investigate stories. Though I never went anywhere I knew to be too dangerous, Father still worried about my sense of self-preservation. After seeing The Herald icon carved into Layla’s skin, I had decided it was time to keep it close. Especially with Kol away. Strapping the harness around my waist against my skin, I then made sure the safety button was on and tucked it in place. My long sweater hid the harness. I didn’t want to frighten Julian. For one, he would be terrified to learn why I felt the need to carry it. Two, he’d want an explanation of what the Volt gun did. I’d keep him from learning about the blind hatred of the world as long as I could. And three, he was a good kid, but also a mischievous one. If he saw it, he’d want to play with it, regardless of the danger.
My stomach rumbling, I meandered upstairs via the elevator to see what leftovers Ruth might have lying about.
