“Tell me,” she said.
But for all his effortless confidence, for once Rave seemed uneasy. He cast a quick glance at her before going to the window to look out. As if he didn’t want to be too close to her and needed the solace of the distant view.
“I have a…malady,” he said slowly, then quickly added, “It’s nothing infectious or even noticeable at the moment. But…” He took a breath. “It’s going to kill me. And sooner rather than later.”
Piper pressed her knuckles to her lips. Her whole body angled toward him, trying to go to him, but he’d put distance between them to tell her about this, and she would honor his need for space.
“It’s a degenerative condition of the blood, more or less,” he continued. “I hadn’t realized how far it had progressed. But last night…” He lifted his chin to meet her anguished gaze, his arms crossed hard over his wide chest. The ink on his tensed arms glinted at her, and she felt the impact of how vulnerable he was making himself to her. “Last night, I felt…alive. For the first time in a very long time.” He faced her squarely. “Because of you.”
She swallowed hard. “Because of…what we did.”
“The sex, yes,” he said bluntly. “But it was more than that. We have a connection.” His gaze sharpened. “You felt it too.”
She should bristle at being told what she’d felt. Especially considering he’d let her leave without a single word. Never mind that she hadn’t
let
him speak.
But she had to admit, he wasn’t wrong.
At just the thought of what they’d done, a wisp of heat unfurled inside her, like the geothermal springs welling up from secret places under the Keep. How terrible was she, to be intrigued by him with her friends missing. But he was helping her find them, so surely that deserved some sort of prize.
Or maybe she shouldn’t be so coy about it: it was a payment for services rendered, sex for security, handing over her chips for a chance to roll his dice…
Okay, now she was being ridiculous.
“I felt it,” she admitted. “It scared me. That’s why I left.”
With a sharp breath, he strode toward her, taking her arms. “I never meant to scare you, Piper.”
She looked up at him with a wry smile. “Like, by charging at me and grabbing me?”
His hands sprang open and he veered away, then he shot her a wary, sidelong glance. “Are you teasing me?”
“A little. It’s the only defense I have against you, I guess.”
“I don’t want you to have anything against me.” He circled around her again, a slow stalk. “Except your body.”
With one last hopeful thought for her friends and a prayer that Rave’s people could find them, Piper gave herself up to this second chance.
She turned to face him, stopping his restless spiral with one hand on his chest, right above where she knew that blank spot was under the gray t-shirt, unmarked by any tattoos.
“Tell me what you felt,” she murmured.
His chest heaved on a deep breath. “My skin had grown cold. My nerves no longer responded to pain. Or pleasure. Sometimes my joints ache so badly, I don’t move for days. But last night, your heat melted it all away, reshaped the ache to something sweeter, like wine flowing through my veins. Your laughter filled the hollowness in my bones. I want that again. I want you…”
Her fingers curled in his shirt, wrinkling the soft fabric, and she swayed toward the longing in his voice.
“I’ve never been that, not to anyone.” She splayed her hand wide, feeling the urgent pounding of his heart. Maybe she was being naïve to believe him; no man alive spoke like that, but… “I want that too.”
He closed the half step between them and swept her off her feet, one arm behind her shoulders, his elbow crooking under her knees.
She knew his strength now and so she didn’t make a sound at the abrupt change of altitude, only buried her face in his neck, inhaling the spicy mineral scent of his skin.
He strode to the bedroom, wheeling her easily through the wide doorway, and kicked the door closed behind them.
Here too the windows were floor to ceiling, filled only with stark winter light, but the bed dominated the room, promising dark and lush temptations.
Rave let her legs slide down, leaving her kneeling on the bed. The thick mattress sank under her weight but was still so high that for once, she was a little taller than him.
She kept her arm looped around his neck and buried her fingers in his dark hair while she stared down at him hungrily.
“Now,” she said, “
show me
what you felt.”
Chapter 9
By all the skies, she was everything a dragon could desire: innocent and bold, strong yet yielding. And so damn sexy.
Rave skimmed his hands under the long hem of her sweater and up over the curve of her hips to sink his fingers into the padded flesh of her ass.
So
damn sexy.
He dragged his hand back up her body, snagging her sweater at the same time. She raised her hands to let him strip it over her head, then raked her fingers through his hair, tilting his head back and leaning down to kiss him.
Her mouth was open, hot, all but breathing the fever of her arousal. The dragon within him fought his restraints and rose, twisting, all of his muscles tightening with its ravenous urge to devour her.
If she didn’t swallow him whole first.
Her full lips streaked across his, wet and slick, her tongue flicking down to tantalize him, her hunger as wild as his.
His despair was close behind. How could she hope to match his dragon’s cravings when she didn’t even know it existed, would never believe his story?
But she
had
believed him when he told her—obliquely, yes, but truthfully—about the petralys that would kill him. She artlessly accepted his halting explanation, her heart as pure and open as the waters of the garden pool even when she’d admitted he scared her.
Well, she fucking
terrified
him.
If she was one of the near-mythical solarys, how could he ever let her go?
Her fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair, cranking his head back to break the kiss.
She stared down at him. “You were going cold on me again, weren’t you?”
“Never,” he murmured. He grasped her arms behind her back, forcing her to arch toward him. Her breasts swelled lusciously, the shadowed rounds of her areolas darkening the pale, silky fabric of her bra. He ducked his head and with a clamp of his jaws unlatched the clasp between her breasts. The halves split apart like a fragile eggshell, revealing the lavish mounds.
He laved his tongue across one dusky nub and drew it into a dark, shining peak, bright with her rushing blood. By the time he turned his attention to her other nipple, sucking it high, like an erotic echo of the mountain range out the window behind her, she was writhing against him, her breath coming in mewling gasps.
“So beautiful,” he murmured. Her body reminded him of the triptych in the entry—land and sky revealing so many moods that despite all his centuries, he could never grow weary of the sight. “So willing.”
Her hands fisted in his shirt, a wordless demand. He was willing too and let her strip the shirt from him.
For all his half nakedness, his skin flushed hot under her dark eyes, glazed with desire.
He wasn’t just willing; he was dying for her.
He stalked up her onto the bed, tumbling her onto her back and stripping off her leggings and panties with trembling hands. He might’ve feared that the stone blight had him in its grasp, but this wasn’t a distant, frozen pain. This was the burning agony of his need to have her, here, now.
Her hands were equally frantic on his jeans, yanking the fly wide with an urgency that made him wince for fear of his tender bits while that same vulnerable flesh was eagerly bursting out into her grasp.
She stroked him once as he clambered over her, finally naked, and it was all he could do not to orgasm in her curious fingers. He pumped his hips with a groan, and she answered with a softer moan.
He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and stretched her wide on the big bed, arms above her head, legs splayed as he pushed his knees between her thighs.
She wriggled impatiently, but he tightened his grip, staring down at her.
“I would find your friends for you anyway,” he said.
“I would fuck you anyway,” she countered.
With that attitude, how could he
not
be drawn to her? He dipped his head to ravish her mouth. As she’d teased him, now he took his revenge until she was undulating beneath him, the hard points of nipples stabbing his chest every time she arched up.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to impale herself on his rampant cock. Since she seemed insensible to the danger, he took matters—and his dick—into his own hands and reached over to the bedside table to fumble for a condom. He’d never understood why Torch insisted that all dragonkin keep “protection” close at hand—he’d never needed it. For a century he hadn’t even bothered wondering what kind of sword went in this particular sheath. But now he fervently apologized for doubting his cousin. His dragon might not be able to catch or spread any human diseases, but if this simple barrier eliminated the need to explain all that, then good enough.
Piper smiled at him, giving him a peek of her gaped teeth. So she
had
been aware of the need for a condom, and she’d waited for him to do the right thing for her. Her trust nearly destroyed him.
Especially when he thought of why he was really doing this.
But for all his self-disgust, his cock swelled to epic proportions as he edged between her thighs. She feathered her fingers up his pecs and then over his shoulders, instinctively following the flow of flight muscles that strained for release even in this earthbound form.
She clasped him closer while spreading her legs, the long bones of her thighs gently padded to welcome him as he centered himself at her opening.
Her slick, wet folds parted at his touch, more precious to him than the golden gates that guarded his subterranean garden. As he nudged the thick head of his cock into her depths, she threw back her head. Against his wine-dark sheets, her glossy black hair made standing waves, like shining volcanic obsidian. She was everything fiery and flowing, her hidden inner muscles clenching around him as if she’d never let him go and then releasing just enough to take him deeper.
His breath grew rough with holding himself back, swallowing the dragon’s hungry rumble. She would hear the beast, she would know—on some level—what he was. He couldn’t let that happen, not when he needed her willing surrender in the hopes of subverting her solarys energy to revitalize the ichor.
He clamped his teeth hard and drove into her with renewed urgency.
She matched him, thrust for thrust, her fingers gliding down his spine to grip his ass. She spread his butt cheeks wide with the force of her clenching fingers, and the tickle of air across that rarely exposed part of himself made him pound helplessly into her pussy.
She cried out, and aghast that he might have hurt her, he tried to pull back, but she bowed off the bed, her hips grinding hard on his pelvis as she came in an explosive rush.
Unable—unwilling—to control himself, he tumbled after her.
And the dragon’s hoarse scream of triumph ripped from his throat.
***
His shout made her come again. Piper closed her eyes as every muscle seized in agony and ecstasy, lightning cascading through her pussy and shooting out along every nerve until her fingers and toes were tingling.
Rave thrust again and again, riding the waves of their reverberating orgasm, and each aftershock made her gasp, silver and gold sparkles exploding behind her eyelids.
What the hell had he done to her? She never came so easily, at least not with anyone else. It was as if he knew her body as well as she did after only one—two, now—encounters.
God, what would she give him for a third shot? Everything, probably.
As soon as she thought it, the possibility disturbed her. A one-night stand was one thing. An afternoon quickie in the unflinching light of day was another. But third times…
Well, that was always the charm, wasn’t it?
He was still braced above her on stiffened arms, his chest heaving and his head hanging down so his forehead touched her crown. The gusts of his breath ruffled her hair, sending a fresh shiver down her spine and goosebumps trailing after.
He touched every part of her even when he wasn’t touching her.
She looked down at their joined bodies, how he pierced her to the quick, but was more achingly aware of their harmonized breath, in and out, gradually slowing.
And still his powerful arms held him just above her.
She flattened her palm over the empty skin above his heart, her spread fingers not quite an X-marks-the-spot.
“It’s like a treasure map,” she mused.
If she hadn’t been so attuned to their breath, she might not have noticed the way his caught in surprise.
“A what?”
“A treasure map. See, here’s the mountains. Here’s the woods.” She feathered her fingers through the dusting of hair on his chest and grinned at him. “Here’s a coastline and river. Even the skull and crossbones. All these tattoos are little clues leading us to the buried pirate booty.” She reached down to squeeze his butt.
With a grunt, he finally collapsed his arms, thumping down on the mattress beside her. He slipped out of her and rolled away to discard the condom.
She traced a finger over the tattoos that continued across his shoulder blades. “Maybe you could get one that says ‘Here be dragons.’”
He muttered something.
“What?”
He rolled back to face her, bending one arm under his head. “I said, pirates aren’t the only ones with buried treasure.”
She curled her arm into a pillow, mirroring his stance. “I suppose you know all about booty in a casino.”
He blinked slowly. “Are we still talking about money or backsides?”
“Both, I guess. It’s just… It seems to me you have everything anyone could ever want here, all the money, all the excitement, but you don’t seem…” She bit her lip.
This was where she’d gotten into trouble with Esme and Anjali, judging Ez’s relationship with Lars, mentioning Anj’s lack of relationship with anyone. She’d driven them away with her pestering; she wasn’t going to make that same mistake with Rave.