Why did Chandra sound so shocked? Despite her claim that Parker had never told her, he’d alluded to it enough times. Surely, she’d heard some of the news. Even he, during his incarceration, had heard Parker gloating about how the dragons weren’t so hidden anymore.

In her defense, media outlets kept debunking the reports that dragons were real. Footage was investigated and supposedly discredited—also known as the Septs covering up their existence.

However, now that she knew the truth, had seen him in the flesh, it peeved Tomas that Chandra chose to act shocked instead of awed by his magnificence. And then she had the nerve to complain.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me? Why did you keep playing that stupid guessing game?”

You really didn’t know, did you? Since he didn’t have a mouth that could handle human speech, he had to think the words to her—and no, he preferred not to analyze how that was possible. Humans and dragons weren’t supposed to mix, and most definitely not communicate in this most rare and secret of ways.

“No, he did not tell me.” Said with obvious disgruntlement.

How interesting that Parker had kept the secret to himself. If that were the case, then had she perhaps told the truth about other things? Could she be trusted?

Didn’t matter either way. He’d decided to claim her.

Since when?

Since I first smelled her.

She approached him, studying him with her head tilted at an inquisitive angle. “This is amazing. Incredible. A real, live dragon.”

Disgruntlement grew in him as he noticed that her excitement was curious in nature.

“So this is why Parker wanted you. He wanted your dragon genes. What do you think he did with them?”

Nothing. Because he’d never gotten the samples he wanted from Tomas because Tomas never shifted. I think.

A sound in the forest had her turning her head sharply.

It’s only a squirrel. Not even a proper-sized snack.

She relaxed. “I am going to assume you took care of all those attackers.”

As if there was any doubt.

“Since we’re safe for the moment, think you can point me in the direction of civilization? I’m sure you want to leave and go do dragon stuff.”

Yes, he did want to leave. What he didn’t understand was why she insisted on shrieking when he took her with him.

It took no effort at all to clasp her in his dragon-sized paws. Surely, she didn’t think he’d fall out of the tree he climbed—because contrary to belief, he couldn’t just take flight in the middle of the forest. Branches cracked, and the trunk began a serious list to the side, but he cleared the boughs enough to throw himself into the air to the sounds of her shrieks.

Good thing he’d taken care of those soldiers, since she’d just pinpointed their location. A few powerful pushes of his wings kept them aloft rather than crashing back into the forest. But did she show any appreciation?

“Put me down before you drop me.”

Did she seriously think him so clumsy? Didn’t she understand he wouldn’t let her come to harm? Tomas protected the things he claimed. Thing was, he couldn’t exactly tell her that. Humans didn’t understand a dragon’s connection to his hoard.

I could try and explain. Explain that she won’t come to harm and to trust in the connection we have.

A connection he really should ignore.

The same way I ignored her lips?

That was a mistake caused by captivity and simple, carnal need. Once he returned to his aerie and his life, he’d solve that coital itch.

With her. I shall keep her forever.

The thought caught him, and he faltered mid-stroke. Surely, he wasn’t thinking of something permanent with Chandra. In that direction led the big E—emotional entanglement. Which could then turn into heartache and depression. He wasn’t keen on collecting those emotions again.

Before that could happen, he’d have to sever things. He’d play with her for a time and, when he became bored, move on.

If that was the plan, then why did he bring her via air current and wing to his hidden home? He didn’t allow anyone into his most secret of places. But he currently intended for her to see it. A human.

Because she’sss mine.

He wasn’t in the mood to argue with himself. Especially since he could justify breaking his usual rule because she would be in danger if taken anywhere else. By now, Parker and his forces would realize Tomas held her captive.

Prisssoner of your love… His dragon self practically snorted.

Be quiet. He did not love her.

But he did like her. A little too much.

I’d like her even better with fewer clothes.

He’d been such a gentleman when she was ill. Keeping her covered with a sheet as he bathed her skin, not even allowing himself to look as he ran a damp cloth over her to wipe the sweat.

It was easy to ignore her attributes when she lay there dying. Now, she wiggled in his grip and threatened to curse his manhood.

“I swear, if you don’t put me down…”

You’ll do what?

She mentioned something truly vile. So he dropped her.

He watched her as she plunged, her eyes widening, arms and legs spreading wide.

Given how dense a human body was, she fell rather fast from the height he’d brought them—high enough to glide through the misty clouds and hide himself. He didn’t worry about radar giving away his position. His scales took care of all signals that might betray him.

Tomas waited until he was sure Chandra had learned her lesson and plunged. He dove past her and rolled under her, letting her hit his belly, the softest part of him. He caught her before she could roll off, his wings extended in a glide.

She lay on his dragon chest for a moment before saying, “You are such a jerk.”

A real jerk would have let her play with gravity to the end.

What did Tomas have to do to get her thanks? At least he’d quelled her complaining. She no longer asked him to put her down. He kind of missed her lively threats.

It took the rest of the daylight hours and several of the night ones for him reach the mountain he wanted. He’d long ago had to tuck Chandra close to his chest as he flew, doing his best to block the wind from her shivering body. She wasn’t dressed for flight.

He coasted onto the top of a thin spire, no more than a dozen feet across and fluting downwards, the sides jagged as parts of it sloughed off each year.

Only someone who could fly could reach it, and then, they’d have to contend with the security system he’d put in place.

Setting Chandra down, Tomas moved away from her, not far given the lack of room on the narrow plateau. With only a little force of will, he drew his dragon back inside, compressed all his lovely lightness into a compact human form. It felt so tight and constraining. It was also quite chilly, given he returned to his man shape quite naked.

Overjoyed by his masculine presence, Chandra launched herself at him. Fists flew as she pounded on his chest. He stood still while she pummeled, massaging his muscles. It truly did relax, and he fought not to yawn. When she slowed, Tomas looked down and asked her, quite nicely he thought, “Ready to do my back?”

“Jerk.” She stomped his foot, eliciting a pained wince.

“For a woman who claimed she couldn’t do violence, you do quite well against me.”

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

“I’d like to put my best into you.” Said with a wide smile.

“We are not having sex.”

“Not here. Or now. Someone needs to bathe.” He wrinkled his nose.

Her jaw dropped, and she looked quite aghast. “Did you just say I smell?”

“You do. But fear not. I have bathing facilities in the aerie that will rectify that problem.”

She planted her hands on her hips and looked around. “Really? Because I don’t see anything remotely resembling a shower.”

“Because it is inside. Really, doctor, I’m beginning to wonder if your educational diplomas were from real institutions.” Moving past her, he found a cluster of rocks that appeared a jumbled mess. Placing his hand and most of his forearm into the hole, he pressed it against a palm reader that would recognize only him. Anyone else would lose their arm. Cousin Jorje had had a hard time explaining how he’d happened to misplace his limb at their last family gathering.

Only the slightest grinding of mechanical parts filled the air, but Tomas knew the entrance opened simply by Chandra’s exclaimed, “You have a hidden lair.”

Lair? He liked the sound of that.

Tomas turned and offered his hand. “You might want to hold on to me. It’s a little drop from the top.”

She craned to peek over the lip of the trapdoor. Her eyes widened as she backed away. “Little drop? I can barely see the bottom.”

“If you did, then you’d note it is Italian polished marble, recovered from a chapel that was destroyed decades ago in a minor quake. Beautifully crafted stuff.”

“Very hard stuff, too, as in Chandra”—she pointed to herself—“would go splat.” She slapped her hands together.

“It’s a great way to tenderize meat.”

The comment served only to widen her eyes to the point that he feared they’d fall out.

“Do you really think I brought you here to eat you?” He smiled. “You’re right. I did.”

He thought the wink would make it clear what kind of eating he meant, but instead, she backed away from him, her feet sliding on the wind-polished surface, precariously close to the edge.

Enough of the games. The longer they stood out here, the more chances his enemy had to spot him.

Lunging, he grabbed the doctor around the waist before she could topple. He immediately curved and dove toward the hole in the spire.

She screamed and clung to him.

He laughed.

Welcome to the aerie. The home of the most exclusive collection in all the Septs.

Having done this leap many times before, he knew what to expect, but Chandra clung tight to him the entire way down, whispering, “Save me, Devi, from his madness.”

On the contrary, the Indian goddess Devi should play for my side since I have untold wealth to please. And he would pay dearly for the privilege of having Chandra. That became clearer and clearer the more time he spent with her.

Despite the steep drop, the spells in this place were attuned to him, and he alit with hardly a bump. Only when he cleared his throat and said, “We’ve arrived,” did Chandra peer from his shoulder.

“We’re not dead.”

“As if there was any doubt.” He set Chandra down, and she stepped away from him, more awed by what she saw than the fact that Tomas remained denuded and out of the cold wind, quickly recovering his stature.

She spun around and craned to look. “What is this place? It’s incredible.”

I am incredible. But his treasure house was pretty awesome, too. “This is my home when I’m not working at the university or on a dig.”

“Home?” She whirled to look at him. “But it’s in a mountain.”

“Indeed. I happened to find it when exploring as a teen. I don’t know who initially carved it.” He knew wizards often built hidden hideaways, but this seemed elaborate and the scale of it vast.

The room they’d dropped into started out narrow and widened, just as the stone spire thickened until it opened into a large, very large, chamber lit by strategic fissures chiseled into the rock and lined with crystals. It prevented water and the elements from entering but kept the air fresh, and during the daytime, the room sparkled as brightly as the outside.

“What is all this stuff?” She wandered away from him and began to trail a finger over the pedestals that dotted the outer perimeter of the room.

“My hoard.” On display were the things that held value—to Tomas. A priceless vase alongside a commendation from a colleague on an achievement in the archeological world. A gold-plated statue from the Mesopotamia era sat adjacent to a giant, pinkish-gray wad.

She pointed. “What is that?”

“The most gum I ever managed to stuff into my mouth at once.”

“And you kept it?” She rounded on him with her mouth agape.

“Personal achievements are priceless.”

She shook her head. “You’re a very strange man, Tomas.”

“But a very normal dragon.”

“If you say so. You’re the first one I’ve officially met. Were you always a dragon?”

His turn to gape at her. “What an inane question. I was always a dragon. One does not simply become a dragon.” Never mind the rumors he’d heard of a Silvergrace girl marrying such a fellow.

“Well, now that I know you’re real, I have to wonder because I could have sworn I saw some kind of gossip claiming otherwise. Didn’t a movie star give birth to a litter of lizards?”

“No, she did not. You shouldn’t listen to rumors.”

“Usually, I don’t because I prefer factual science, but sometimes, within the rumor is a hint of truth.”

“Here’s the truth—dragons cannot be made.”

“Some say Brandon, Parker’s nephew, got turned into one.”

He waved a hand. “And other media reports debunked it as a hoax. The boy was simply looking to get attention and funding for his uncle’s company by claiming something impossible.” Or so the Septs wanted to believe. Tomas had to wonder, given Brandon, a gator shifter from the wrong side of a whole bunch of tracks, married a precious Silvergrace daughter. Either the girl was living in disgrace, or there was something more at play.

“If dragons aren’t made, then why did Parker keep you prisoner? What use were you to him?”

“I told you before. I wasn’t a prisoner. I was there investigating.”

“You were kept in chains and drugged.”

“You make it sound worse than it was. My every need, including that of sleep, was taken care of.” He amended that statement. “Almost every need. The shower is that way.” He pointed.

She didn’t scurry.

He would really prefer she bathed first.

Rather than strip and run for cleanliness, she crossed her arms. “Are you suggesting I bathe so you can have sex with me?”

“I was suggesting no such thing.” He couldn’t help but sound affronted. “I was demanding it. Bathe. Now. I won’t have your fouled body in my bed.”

“Your bed won’t be getting any of my body because I am not having sex with you.”

The idea perplexed. “Why not? I’ve saved you numerous times. You are attracted to me. Is it because I’ve not offered you recompense? Would a matching diamond jewelry set do? Or do you prefer another stone?”

Wrong question. Her eyes narrowed. “I will not be bought or coerced.”

“Then what will it take? Ask for it. I have plenty to give. Except for that.” He pointed to his third-grade Thanksgiving project that involved a meticulously traced and cut-out version of his hand then decorated into a turkey. He was quite proud of that piece of art, especially since his grandmother deemed it the most perfect fowl she’d ever seen.

“How about common decency? Respect. Maybe accepting the fact that I’m not interested in a physical relationship.”

“You’ll change your mind.” She had to because, otherwise, his balls would shrivel and fall off, little blue marbles that would require a pedestal with a handy box of tissues so he could cry at the loss of his manhood.

Did she really think she could resist him?

She certainly paid him no mind, walking past him with a snarky, “I am going to shower, but not because you ordered it, and not because we’re having sex, but because I do stink. Of dragon.”

Of all the insults!

She’s so utterly perfect.

One moment, feminine and in needing of his protection; the next, bringing him low with mere words and sass.

A part of him thought he should go after her and join her in the shower—fed by a brilliant cistern system that captured rain and dew.

But he’d already abased himself enough for this woman. Let her miss him and come crawling back to bask in his greatness.

His un-admired, naked greatness.

He scowled down at his body. He’d lost weight during his tenure at the secret lab. Perhaps that was why she found him unappealing.

As she bathed, he also took a shower, using a kitchen sink hose that proved invigorating and sluiced down a drain in the floor. It made cleaning up blood so much easier.

He had time to grab a robe and garb himself, make a sandwich—the frozen ingredients only showing a few signs of frost burn—before she reappeared.

She also wore a robe and a towel on her head. Her feet were bare, the toes long and unpainted. Her ankles trim, and her calves—

“You can stop that right now.” She tucked the robe tighter.

“I see the bathing did not improve your mood. Sandwich?” He held out the other half of his third sandwich, the chicken breast thick, the bacon crunchy, the mayo giving it extra flavor to complement the cheese. It just missed lettuce and tomato for utter perfection.

“You really do live here, don’t you?” she noted, taking the sandwich from his hand. “Doesn’t that make it hard to commute to work?”

“I don’t stay here when teaching. I have an apartment close to campus for that.”

“Then why have this place? Couldn’t you just get yourself a house and have all your stuff with you full-time?”

“Expose my collection to possible thieves?” He almost recoiled. “Do you know nothing at all of dragons?”

“No. Thought to be fake, remember?”

How true. And yet, now that she knew of him, there was surely no harm in giving her a brief lesson.

“To start, dragons are the top of the chain.”

“What chain?”

“The chain. The one that starts with dragons then the fey. Followed by the merpeople, although the mountain folk, those you call dwarves, are disputing that hierarchy.”

“Where do humans fit on the list?” she asked.

“A bit farther down. Under the dolphins, but above household pets.” At her glare, he added. “There is a petition to have them moved.”

“I see. Do you have a pen and paper?” she asked.

“You wish to take notes. How remiss of me.” He commended her wanting to learn about him. Perhaps then she would better understand the futility of arguing with him.

A desk—the same one he’d done his homework on growing up and kept as a cherished possession—held a spot of honor in the room and provided the tools he needed. Chandra, who’d seated herself in the meantime on a huge sectional sofa—brought in piece by piece as if he were nothing more than a delivery boy—propped the notebook on her lap and wrote.

Dragon Facts.

1. Arrogant
2. Bossy

He pointed at it. “Don’t forget narcissistic and covetous, as well as protective of our territory.”

She paused with the pen against her lips. “Are you not bothered at all by the fact that you’re quite immodest?”

“Modesty is for those who lack greatness.”

She shook her head and wrote a few more notes. Born, not made. Approximate size, five meters tall.

“Weight?”

His lips quirked as he said, “A dragon never tells.”

“Is it hard to stay in your dragon shape?”

“Being in my natural state is a form of euphoria. It is when I am in this shape that I feel compressed and uncomfortable.”

“Does it hurt when you change?”

“Pain is but a fleeting thing.”

“I don’t like pain.”

“I’ll protect you from it.” The promise hung heavily in the air between them.

“So, how many dragons are there in the world?”

“I don’t keep count, although I am sure the Septs have a vague idea of their numbers.”

“What are Septs?”

“Think of them as a form of governance. Much like how the royals used to rule. Each Sept is made up of numerous families and is led by the matriarch of the strongest one.”

“Women are your bosses?”

“The strongest rule the Septs. It just so happens that, given that the birth rate of males can be rather low, females often manage to commandeer the position.” It didn’t help that most males had lost their alpha gene over the centuries and proved quite content to let the women rule. Except for Tomas. Tomas still had his balls and didn’t plan to give them to any woman.

Okay, maybe one woman could play with them…but that wouldn’t make him less of a man.

“So what Sept do you belong to?”

“Alas, I am one of the rare dragons that have no Sept to call my own. When I ascended, it was discovered I have no color.”

“What do you mean no color? You’re like a sparkling ebony.”

“You think I sparkle?” The adjective pleased because it meant she noticed.

“The Septs are divided into colors? I thought you said it was comprised of families.”

“It is, but those families are also predominantly one hue. Even when bloodlines are mixed, one color emerges strongest.”

“And you—”

“Am what they call a Wilder. I am all colors and none. I can belong anywhere.”

“But you chose…”

“None.” Because all the families saw in him was a stud, a male to make babies for the Sept.

Tomas wasn’t sure about ever having children because then he might get attached to them. What if they didn’t like him or tried to touch his things?

Best not attempt it.

“So you’re like a lone wolf.”

He shuddered. “Do not compare me to mangy curs.”

The pen tapped against her lips. He knew of something that wanted to trade places.

“You don’t like shifters, do you? And yet, aren’t you in the same family?”

His brows rose. “Don’t let my grandmother hear you say that.” She’d made people disappear for less.

She leaned forward, determined to argue further. “But you both change from human to animal shapes.”

“They’re animals. We are dragons. We eat animals.”

She scribbled on her pad: carnivore.

“With a sweet tooth. Especially for caramel.”

She added that and outrageous flirt.

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

At the question, his levity vanished. “No.”

“Parents?”

“Dead in the same crash.” The one he was spared because he’d begged to spend the night at his grandparents’, else he, too, would have been in the deadly accident that took his parents’ and younger siblings’ lives. His kind might heal exceptionally well, but the fiery inferno that remained after the tractor-trailer had slammed into his parents’ Escalade left nothing but bones and ash.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You didn’t know them, and I managed quite fine despite it.” His grandparents had taken him in and done their best.

So why did he leave them and now rarely talk to them?

Because of the fear I’ll lose them, too. With distance, he couldn’t feel anything if something happened.

“How do you procreate? Are dragons like lizards where the female lays an egg, and the male fertilizes it?”

“That would take most of the fun out of it.” Although, in ages past, according to history, when dragons lived in their true form on a daily basis, that was exactly how the females chose to reproduce. And he meant females. The males didn’t care so long as they had young to carry on their great name.

“Can you only impregnate your kind?”

“It is recommended, given couplings between humans and dragons result in wyverns.”

“Isn’t that another name for a dragon?”

Again, he couldn’t help a snort of disdain. “No. Wyverns are much less superior, un-ascended versions. They are also sterile and male only. Their worst attribute is that they are scentless, which is quite annoying given how sneaky they are.”

“What’s un-ascended supposed to mean?”

“Can we not save the biology lessons for another day? Or, even better, if you’re so interested in form, then you may study mine.”

“I’ve seen yours. Got any other examples I can examine instead?”

The mere suggestion of her looking upon another sent him into a bit of a jealous rage. Before he could think, or she could breathe, he sat beside her on the couch. Close. So close he could smell she’d used his shampoo on her hair. His soap on her body.

His hand cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers through her thick hair, the damp tendrils clinging to him as he angled her head back.

“What are you doing?” The words emerged on a soft whisper.

“What’s it look like I’m doing, doctor? Surely a bright woman like you can figure it out.”

“I told you no more kissing.” Said with eyes at half-mast, lips parted, and a heartbeat that sped up.

“Then stop me.”

He slanted his mouth over hers, pressing his lips firmly while waiting for her to protest. Would she struggle to put a stop to the kiss? Would she bite?

Tomas wouldn’t force her—but he would do his best to seduce.

In between nibbles, she still managed to speak. “We really shouldn’t do this.”

“Yes, we should.”

And he would. She’d tempted him long enough. He dragged her onto his lap, her spot beside him too far. She didn’t protest, instead turning on his lap that she might cup his face in her hands. She kissed him just as hungrily. Seeming needy.

He also needed this.

Needed her.

Earlier, he’d found excuses to touch her. No more. He wanted Chandra. Wanted her sweetness and softness, wanted a taste of her.

For just a moment, he broke the embrace, his breathing not as smooth as he’d like, his erection firm against her ass. “Still want to tell me to stop?”

For a moment, her eyes opened, heavy with desire. Her lips curved. “Are you telling me you can?”

“No. I need you.” He couldn’t believe he admitted it out loud and immediately sought to cover his gaffe by covering her mouth with his. His arms crushed her tightly as their lips meshed in a torrid kiss that left her panting.

But kissing wasn’t enough. He slid his lips away from her mouth, down the column of her throat, stopping at the flutter of her pulse. He kissed that beating reminder of life, and her breathing hitched.

“You don’t bite, do you?” she asked, her tone part trepidation, part excitement.

“I make no promises.”

“Oh.” Not no. Not don’t. Oh. A soft exhalation as she dipped her head back and exposed more of that throat to him.

Such trust.

So tempting.

His hands cradled her upper body as he bent her back, allowing his lips to move past her neck to her collarbone, nudging the fabric of her robe open that he might kiss the swell of her breast.

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, and she moaned as he caught the tip of a nipple with his lips. He tugged it, pulling it taut, and heard her sob a breath of air.

He sucked it, and she cried out. She shifted on him, squirming, the opening to her robe widening, releasing the scent of her arousal.

She wants me.

He could smell the honey. He wanted the honey.

He laid her back on the couch and covered her, capturing her lips once again as he one-handedly undid the knot keeping her hidden from him. He spread the robe open before resuming his exploration, his mouth capturing and toying with each of her breasts before giving in to the temptation and rubbing past the soft skin of her belly.

She wore no underpants, and she didn’t shave. A woman au naturel. How decadent. He rubbed his face over her mound, and she gasped.

“You smell good,” words practically growled against her skin. And it must have frightened her, for she tried to press her thighs together.

“Open for me,” he said, blowing at the crease of her thighs. “I want to taste you.”

“I—I…” She tried to speak, failed, and her thighs relaxed, spread enough that he could fan his warm breath over her nether lips. The wet tip of his tongue traced her outer shell, a slow and languorous touch that drew a moan from her.

The sound emboldened him to take a proper taste. He licked her, tasting the sweet honey just for him.

“Oh.” Again, he licked her, pressing his tongue between her lips, thrusting it deep.

Chandra heaved on the couch, her fingers clutching at the cushions as he aroused her.

He moved from the couch to the floor and angled her so that her legs hung over his shoulders. Her moist flesh beckoned, and she moaned as he returned to licking the sweet spot between her thighs. He lapped and teased her slit before circling his tongue around her clit. With his lips alone, he held and sucked on her sensitive nub. She bucked and cried out. All of her quivered.

Tomas rested a hand on her stomach and held her still, pinned her that he might continue to suckle at her clit. Deep moans and soft cries were the music he licked to. He knew she approached the peak of pleasure as her back arched, her whole body tense.

He stopped for a moment and stared. Stared at the smooth expanse of skin exposed to him, her breasts each a perky handful jutting proudly with erect tips. Her belly flat. Such perfection.

Her eyes opened, and her lips parted.

He wished he could have that image, this moment in time, frozen forever.

But he was too impatient to fetch a camera. Instead, he shed his robe, and this time when he stripped, exposing his lean, hard body, he saw the admiration in her gaze.

He thrust his shoulders back as she reached out and stroked her hand down his chest. She stopped at his navel.

“You can touch,” he told her.

A red hue flooded her cheeks, and she averted her gaze.

Her shyness hinted at inexperience. He’d thought he couldn’t get any harder. He was wrong.

His erect cock, which tilted upwards at the tip, extended proudly from his loins and throbbed with need.

Need her.

Denuded, and with her still acting shyly, Tomas returned to his licking and soon had her panting, her body undulating.

He wanted her to come for him, to come against his lips and cry out with pleasure. He growled against her sex before moving up until his body covered hers, the skin-to-skin contact scorching. His hard cock was trapped between their bodies and pressed against the seam of her thighs. He latched his lips onto hers, and he opened her mouth with the insistent probe of his tongue.

The hard pebbles of her nipples dug into his chest, and Tomas suddenly couldn’t resist their call. He broke their embrace that he might bend and take one into his mouth. As his tongue swirled around the tip, Chandra moaned and clutched at his head. Her hips bucked under him, and her whole body trembled as she pressed closer.

Her desire, his desire, hung heavy in the air. Their pleasure was at a peak, and Tomas couldn’t help but utter a sound of satisfaction.

Eyelids, heavy with desire, lifted, and she looked at him. Truly looked at him, and her eyes widened.

“Your eyes are glowing.”

“You do this to me,” he admitted. “You unleash the beast in me.”

Her breathing hitched.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured against her mouth. “Never afraid.”

He dipped his head for a kiss, a masterful embrace that claimed her mouth as his. She returned it, her passion just as fierce.

He dipped a hand between their bodies and found her sex. He dipped his finger in the honey, wetting it before circling it on her clit.

She cried into his mouth, and her fingers dug into his shoulders as he played with her.

“Come for me,” he whispered against her lips. Come, and then as her channel still shuddered from her first climax, he would slide into her and take her over the edge with a second orgasm.

She undulated under him. Her breathing so ragged, her moans more sobs of pleasure as she reached her peak.

He pinched her nub, pinched it as he kissed her, and her body arched. Held. Her breathing stopped.

“Tomas.” She exhaled, one word. One word only.

His name.

“Tomas.”

Mine.

And yet before he could fully claim her, before he could stamp her with his body, someone just had to interrupt.