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“Unbind your hair,” he made his own demand, his voice deep and husky as he watched her watch him.
Everywhere her covetous eyes touched, his body roared with flames. It was the best kind of burn.
She did as he bid immediately, shaking loose her long, shiny black locks until her hair cascaded down her back and shoulders.
Eir unarmored and unbound was a sight to behold. Kai reveled in it.
He reached out to twist a lock of her hair around his fingers, drawing her inexorably closer, until she straddled him again and wound her arms around his neck.
“After you learn my markings, I will count your spots,” he murmured, focusing pointedly on the freckles that scattered across her nose and cheeks.
“How many are there, do you suppose?”
She shrugged one shoulder and gave him a lop-sided grin.
“However many there are, they all belong to you.”
Ah.
Kai breathed out and closed his eyes, a smile involuntarily spreading across his face. He didn’t even try to contain it.
“Then I am the richest man alive,” he said, bringing her closer for a kiss.
One thing led to another, and before long, they were devouring each other and short of breath. Until Eir determinedly pulled away with a groan.
“Don’t distract me,” she chided.
“Start talking.”
She rubbed her fingers along a long, jagged ridge near his right shoulder.
“This one. How did you get it? And why is it important enough to keep?”
“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking back.
“It was a glorious battle against a people called the Huns. Led by the ruthless chieftain Attila. Three hundred thousand men died that day. It was one for the history scrolls. But that is not why I keep this scar.”
“Why, then?” she asked, staring at him unblinkingly, captivated by his tale.
Kai ducked his head a little, abashed. If she expected great meaning in what he did and what he chose to remember, she would undoubtedly be disappointed. Sometimes, he simply acted on a whim.
“The coalition against the Huns was a ragged, sparse, untrained one. Full of farmers and children who simply wanted to defend their homeland. Though they were led by a Roman general and his Visigoths allies, they were doomed to fail.”
He shrugged and stopped speaking, hoping she’d surmise the import of his actions on her own.
She tipped her head to one side and regarded him, assessing.
“You don’t like bullies.”
He glanced at her through his lashes and confirmed, “I do not.”
“You turned the tide for people who needed a hero, to give them hope.”
He grunted and looked away.
He was no hero. Just an earth dragon who loved a good fight.
“They were their own heroes. They just needed a boost to believe in themselves.”
