Waking the Dragon (22 page)

“I know.” A smile ghosted across his face before he became serious with the memory. “It started as an ache right here.” He pressed his hand to the center of his chest. “The hollow pain grew. When she was near, it flared, burning on the inside. The only thing to quench the fire was her touch. Even so, the burning never ceased.”

“It sounds painful.”

“It was, actually. That’s how a Morgon male knows without a shadow of a doubt he’s found his one mate. The pain is acute, but when she accepts him, they share the fire, their hearts bonding one to the other. The release of the elixir transforms the pain…into pleasure.”

I swallowed, understanding completely. An aching need, pain, converting to pleasure. Something I couldn’t stop thinking about these days.

Lucius’s gaze fixed on me. “You wear his scent like it’s your own, you know.”

My heart jumped. “What?”

“Typically, this only happens with mated couples.” All-seeing eyes watched me. “But you two aren’t heartbound. Not yet.”

“Heartbound? To Kol? I don’t think so.”

He smiled. “Too rough around the edges for you?”

“It’s not that. He’s just too, too…isolated. Within himself. I don’t know if he wants a mate in that way.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped. “True. He has definitely built walls between himself and the world.”

Walls. Yeah. I’d come to realize recently that I had my own. Mortared with endless hours of writing and copy editing, bricked with sleepless nights of research and investigating, topped with battlements made of innate stubborn will, and spiked with haughty, cynical feminist barbs that no man dared breach.

Until Kol.

“You know, Moira. When tragedy strikes, some of us are incapable of moving past it.” Lucius never rambled. His stories and musings always had a purpose. I listened well. “Some of us react to tragedy, by say, building walls to protect one from future hardships. When my mother died, I had my father and Lorian to lean on. The grief didn’t consume me as it very well could have otherwise.”

“Kol lost his mother?”

“Both parents. They were heartbound.” Morgon mates who shared soulfire also shared the beating of one another’s heart. When one died, the other soon followed. “His father died of a stroke at work one day at the office. As you know, Morgon couples who share soulfire are bound in such a way that one can no longer live without the other. The surviving mate’s death can take minutes, hours, even days.”

“How—” The question caught in my throat. “How long did Kol’s mother last?”

“Seven weeks.”

I gasped.

“She lingered so long, the sorrow ate the flesh from her bones and emaciated her, stealing her famed beauty. Worse, the lingering reduced her to weeping almost incessantly till there was nothing left of the joyful woman she was—only a hollow shell was left behind.”

Poor Kol. My heart constricted at the thought of him watching his mother waste away and die in misery.

“Needless to say, this devastated Kol and his brother. Kieren couldn’t stand it. He bid his mother goodbye after one month, leaving Kol to wait with her at the bedside.”

I found it difficult to swallow. “What about their sister, Valla?”

“You know of her?”

I nodded. “And I know Kol and Kieren had a falling out.”

“Right. Valla was only seven when they lost their parents. As the eldest of the twins, by three minutes, Kol took custody of Valla.”

“Was that what drove a wedge between them?”

“It was more than that. You’ll have to ask him. What I can tell you is that the lingering death of their mother struck Kol the hardest. Our families grew up together. And Kol was always a fun-loving boy, always laughing. Before their deaths.”

“Kol? You can’t be serious.”

Lucius smiled, a sad sort of smile, one of regret. “Tragedy changes us all, Moira. We get to choose how much. Some survive with a few bumps and bruises. Others wear their scars forever and build walls to block the world out.”

Kol definitely had scars. There was the visible one given to him by his brother. But the one left on his heart by his mother bore much deeper. When had I come to care so much about his pain? When had he burrowed so far under my skin that I was afraid he’d leave his own scar behind on my heart?

Dinner came and went without the return of Kol. I adjourned early to my own guest suite on the third floor down, knowing he’d join me soon enough.

I stood in the living room, staring out into the night, sipping a glass of red wine. After dinner and a long, hot soak in the bath, I’d been here in my knee-length silk nightgown, black and butter-soft. Waiting.

I’d washed my hair and let it air-dry in dark waves, falling down my back. I knew he loved my hair. I’d seen him stare whenever I wore it down. I’d taken time to shave and lotion my body with lavender scents. I’d made myself into a silken, sweet-smelling temptation—one he would no longer be able to resist. I didn’t just want kissing or heavy petting anymore. I wanted all of him.

I’d watched the sun set beyond the Gladium skyline and Morgons return home from work to nearby rooftops. My eyes had adjusted to the dark, the city lights burning bright. Cars zipped here and there far below. Everyone seemed a world away while I waited in the dark for a certain Morgon to fulfill his promise. A promise that made my pulse quicken.

Soon.

I felt his presence rather than heard him when he finally entered. Slowly, I turned. A familiar silhouette moved in the shadows, silver eyes glinting. He circled the dining room table, angling closer to me. My gaze moved with him. Self-defense rule number one: never let the attacker have your back. And yes. He was going to attack. No doubt.

He moved past a wall sconce, the flame revealing his magnificent nude body. I swallowed hard. Kol didn’t play games. He’d made me a promise, and he was wasting no time fulfilling it.

The air crackled, an electrical charge sizzling in the air. I’d sensed this before. The night Lorian lost it at dinner. A symptom of the dragon rising to the surface.

“You know my alarm code.” I was shocked at the steady tenor of my voice. Not at all how I felt as the predator prowled ever closer.

“Of course.” As expected, his voice rumbled like thunder, more beast than man.

I knew what I looked like to him—standing tall with the night sky at my back, barefoot, wine glass in hand, wearing nothing but a sheer piece of fabric clinging to every curve.

A click of the remote and the glass wall tinted black. No one could see in. I swallowed hard. Desire and a little trepidation flared at his intent.

Of course I wanted him. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, deny that anymore. Not even to myself. My blood rushed at the mere thought of his hands on my body. Still, I was never one to give in so easily. I never thought of myself as one of those women who played hard-to-get, but some inner demon wanted to provoke him. My defenses had mellowed with the wine, loosening my tongue. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea, Kol. This could muddle things in our investigation. I’m not so sure I want—”

His attack was fierce and fast. Knocking my wine glass clear away, I was pinned hard before it crashed to the floor. Cool glass at my back, his hand fisted in my hair, arching my neck just enough to meet his gaze. His other hand gripped my hip in a vise, his chest pressed to mine. A sconce above us flickered a pale flame, revealing his intensely serious expression.

“You severed ties with your father because he sought to lord over you. You left that Lennox boy because he wasn’t man enough to handle you.”

How did he know? I stared, mouth agape, unable to speak.

“I’ll tell you what you want, Moira.” His hand released my hip. Long fingers wrapped my nape, his thumb resting below my jaw, the other still clenched in my hair. “You want to be possessed, but not controlled. You want to be protected, but not smothered. You want to be dominated, but only in one way.”

He stroked his thumb down my chin, forcing my mouth open. I couldn’t form a thought, mesmerized by silver-fire and sensuous lips drawing closer. I slid my hands up his chest. I let one hand drift down to his waist, his hip, sliding over bare skin.

I gulped, my mouth bone-dry.

A fully nude Kol had me pressed against the glass. Though I was quite sure I already knew the answer, I could only think to ask him one thing.

“What—” Quick, unsteady breaths. “What do
you
want?”

His mouth curved into a wicked half-smile as he whispered against my lips. “I’m burning for you, Moira. An inferno flares inside every time you come near me.” He traced his tongue over my bottom lip. “I won’t go up in flames alone.” He ground out the words. “You’re going to burn with me. That’s what I want.”

Then he took my mouth, showing me what it meant to be set on fire.

Aggressive didn’t describe the way he worked me with his mouth and tongue, his fist tightening in my hair. A soft moan lingered at the back of my throat. He moved to my jaw, my neck, descending, teeth grazing a trail. A strong hand skimmed over the layer of silk—rounding my hip, dipping at my waist, sliding up my ribcage, mounding my heaving breast. His thumb circled the peak as he continued to suck and nip my neck. Heat flared down low.

“This skin. Like porcelain. I want to mark every inch as mine.”

“Why,” I managed to breathe out. “Because I
belong to you
?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t be enslaved by anyone. Not even you.”

A gravelly chuckle from the belly of the beast. He gripped the bodice of my gown and ripped it in half, letting the shredded silk pool at my feet. I gaped as he dropped to his knees, big hands spreading and holding my thighs apart against the glass. I uttered a cry when his mouth opened on me.

“Kol!” I grabbed his shoulders.

I tried to buck away, my core too sensitive for his hot mouth. But he was immovable, determined to taste me, licking to his beastly heart’s content. There was no moving this man when he wanted something.

I gripped the arch of one wing to hang on, the bone thick and strong under soft, leather-like casing, making me think of another appendage on him, hard and covered in silken skin. I moaned. His teeth grazed. I tightened my grip on his wing, making him growl. He flicked his tongue, doing wonderful, wicked things. My head fell back against the glass wall, city life buzzing far below. Unable to control my body, I squeezed his shoulder, claws digging in, as I came harder than I ever had in my entire life, my hips undulating. I felt wanton and free, and I wanted more. So much more.

“Kol,” I breathed on a sigh. “Inside me.”

My knees buckled. Before I fell to the floor, he swept me into his arms and draped me on a chaise lounge on my back. No more words. Kneeling at the end, he pulled me by the ankles till my bum was at the edge.

Though his silver eyes and aggressive manner proved the beast had full control, he stilled, slowing himself. He skimmed his palms down the back of my thighs, bending my legs and gripping at the crook behind my knees. Spreading my legs wider, he nudged my entrance and sank in a fraction. He showed me how swollen he was for me, easing inside with a rumbling groan. I sucked in a sharp breath, his thickness stretching me to pleasure-pain. He inched all the way in, stopping only when he was sheathed to the hilt.

“Kol.” I could think of nothing to say but his name. He filled me—physically, mentally, emotionally. All I could feel around me, as blood thrummed through my veins, my heart speeding away, was the powerful presence of, “Kol.”

I reached up, skimming my hands along his ridged abdomen, across the planes of his broad chest, rounding his shoulders, and pulled him down to me.

Breathing labored and hot, mingling with my own, his voice vibrated against my skin. “From the second I laid eyes on you”—he slid out achingly slow, letting me feel every glorious inch—“this is where I longed to be”—he slammed hard and fast, just once, our thighs slapping—“deep inside you.”

He held me there, my body sealed around him, tight as a glove, silver eyes boring into mine.

I rolled my pelvis up to meet him. “Give me more.”

He gave it to me, pulling out slow and thrusting hard, steadily increasing until he pumped at a merciless rhythm. I clawed my hands into the sofa cushions, trying to hold on as he pounded into me again and again. Each time harder than the first.

I had no notes of comparison to Mikal. There was no comparing Kol to him. There was no comparing Kol to any man—Morgon or human. He ruled in a realm all his own. Right now, he ruled over me. And he knew it.

When he abruptly pulled out, I whimpered in protest, breathless and panting.

“Deeper,” he growled, flipping me over with swift ease.

Deeper?
He’d lost his mind. So had I.

Lifting me to all fours on the chaise, his broad hands slid along my waist to my hips. I heard his wings whip out to full extension, raising him to his feet behind me. One palm slid up my spine, pressing between my shoulder blades. He flattened my upper torso to the sofa cushion, then curled his fingertips over the curve between shoulder and neck. He gripped my hip hard as he pushed into me again, slow at first as my body accepted him. He ground against me with each pounding thrust. Marking me as only he could. I felt lightheaded from the intensity, unable to breathe as he entered me deeper and deeper.

Walls crumbled as he pushed my senses into oblivion. Barriers of stone and steel and my stubborn iron will collapsed into dust and gravel. As my body soared to his bidding, a revelation gripped me hard, repeating in my mind.

I belong to him.

He slowed, leaning forward to press his chest to my back, pulling me flush against him. One hand cupped my breast. The other slipped between my legs, two fingers sliding up and down my slick cleft, caressing me till I moaned his name.

“You got it all wrong, Moira,” he whispered, his fingers matching the slow rhythm of his shaft inside me. “I am the slave.” He thrust a little harder. “Every waking moment, I see you, smell you, want you.” His fingers continued to caress and pinch softly, my senses reeling with pleasure. “I’m afraid once I feel you come with me so deep inside…your body clenching around me…I’ll be lost forever…powerless to escape.”