Kyan forced himself to leave Laura.

It ripped his soul in half.

This was the only way to keep her safe. Not only from the evil bent on her destruction but also from the dark desires raging in his black heart.

In his secure operations center at the top of the highest tower, he reviewed the hospital security footage.

Nothing conclusive.

He communicated with his police and FBI contacts, dissected and analyzed threats, and sent orders to his employees.

On one small screen, he watched her.

At first, she crept around the floors below him, quiet and cautious. But soon she grew bold, slapping her palm on counter tops and walls, sidestepping the appliances she revealed. Her surprised or thoughtful noises punctuated his activities, drawing his eye continually from his current task to her small screen.

Once, something made her laugh.

The sound curled strangely in his chest.

She dozed on the bed fully clothed, woke hours later, and ate breakfast. Then, she inspected his wall screens and attempted to operate his computer to contact her housemates. The networks were separated so the messages bounced. She crossed her arms and muttered.

Another full day passed. Once more, she lay atop his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

He wanted to join her as she rubbed her scent all over his lair and claimed it for her own.

Kyan crushed the urge.

Laura was not here as his mate. She was here for protection. She did not mean to claim his lair or any piece of him. She was a human who could not fathom the significance of being carried into his most intimate space.

He finally reached a stopping point in his investigations. Now, he required information from his contacts and employees to proceed.

Kyan stretched out on the small military cot he sometimes used when operations were too intense to leave.

He did not think about how Laura was sleeping in his bed just a flight of steps below.

Nor did he think about the softness of her curves pressed against him, the way her fingers had clutched at his shirt, the way he could almost feel her right now…

He jolted awake with Laura’s piercing scream.

* * *

Laura clenched her fists in her frizzy hair and screamed.

She had not seen nor spoken to another living being in two days.

Two days.

Those lakeside-cottage-in-the-woods fantasies she sometimes had? After a hard day at the hospital, escaping into the wilderness where she never had to speak with another disgruntled patient had seemed like a good thing. But in actual fact?

It was torture.

Her shriek hissed. She sucked in another huge lungful, screamed, and pounded the door where Kyan had last disappeared.

He wasn’t here. He had left her.

Getting her blood moving invigorated her spirit and released some frustration.

“Let me out!” she screamed and pounded. “Let me out! Let me—”

“Stop,” his gruff voice commanded.

She choked. “Y-you’re here?”

Silence.

Had she imagined his voice? After two days she was clearly going crazy.

She renewed her pounding. Harder now, more desperate. “Kyan? You can’t make me a prisoner like this. I didn’t do anything wrong. Kyan? Kyan!”

The stone fortress echoed with her cries.

She had to stop and catch her breath. Sweat pooled above her lips and forehead. She wiped it away.

The fortress returned to eerie silence like she’d been sealed into an icy, glacial cocoon.

Did he always live in silent isolation? She couldn’t do it.

“Let me out!” She slammed both fists into the wall. “Let—”

“Stop,” he ordered again.

Relief seeped into her. Even if he was far away, he could see her. She wasn’t alone.

But she wasn’t obeying him either. She pounded harder.

“You will injure yourself.”

“I’m dying!”

“You are not dying. I have provided everything you need.”

“Not everything.” She dropped her hands and gasped with hysterical laughter.

There was no bread oven, no streaming videos, no herb garden, no art market, no cute little cafe attached to an independent bookshop, no quirky neighbors with a thousand accents and delicious scents, no roommates or family or friends. His lair didn’t even have her after-shower detangling spray. Just a vast, rugged landscape as solitary and forbidding as Kyan’s heart.

She gestured at the wall. “You’ve locked me into a stone box with nothing.”

“I have provided food, water, and shelter.”

“That’s not everything.” She shook her head, not sure where to address her captor, so wheeling slowly while searching the corners. “Not by a long shot. Don’t you know Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs?”

He dropped silent.

“Hello?”

Still silent.

Had he gone away again?

Finally, he responded, but he sounded more confused. “You desire self-actualization?”

“No! Well, yes, but not right away.” She pleaded with the wall for understanding. “You’ve taken me away from everything I know and love.”

“It is for your safety.”

Of course it was.

“I can’t survive all alone.” She thumped her chest. “I can’t see or speak to or touch another person. This is making me sick. I can’t spend another hour by myself. I’ll die.”

The silence stretched.

“Kyan?”

No answer.

She dropped her face into her hands.

The slight whoosh was her only warning.

She lifted her head.

Kyan strode through the doorway. It sealed behind him.

Relief filled her with tears. She ran at him to throw her arms around another actual person—

He grabbed her hands, turning them palm-up to seek injuries. “You are hurt.”

“Not physically.” She sniffed and scrubbed at the tears with her shoulders. His large hands cupped hers. Warmth. “In my heart.”

He released her and pulled back.

“No!” She grabbed his forearm. “You can’t leave me alone again.”

He stared down at her, retreating behind the shield of words. “It is for your safety.”

“Safety from what? You?”

His jaw clenched.

She hated that look. The unworthiness in his eyes, put there by the bullies and orphan care adults, and now sustained by his own shame.

Laura grabbed his cheeks, yanking him down to her level. “I’m not afraid of you.”

His rough voice growled. “You should be.”

“Why? Because you kidnapped me for two days? Because you have scars? Why?”

“The scars on the outside are only the beginning.”

“Obviously.” She splayed her fingers across the wrecked skin that shaped Kyan into the male he was today. “And?”

“I have hurt people. Innocent people. And I would do it again. To—”

“To protect the ones you love?”

He blinked.

“This isn’t a psych eval,” she stroked his cheeks, “but you’re not a sociopath, Kyan. You’re a warrior. You have regrets. I regret every patient I couldn’t save. And I know right now you’re trying to save me.”

His brows drew down.

“I know it, but this,” she indicated his vast, empty fortress, “isn’t the way. I need company. I need you.”

He hardened again. “You don’t need me.”

“I do.” She brushed his lips with her kiss.

He froze — just like the other times — and then he shoved her back.

She stumbled, catching herself. Hurt flashed in her heart. He rejected her. Again.

She should apologize.

But she couldn’t

“If you don’t want me, then you have to let me go,” she cried.

His blue eyes flew wide.

“I need someone who won’t reject me. Who will give me the touch I need!”

“Touch?” His lips curled in a barely contained snarl. “Do you know what I want to do to you? What it is taking all my will to avoid?”

No, she didn’t know.

His tortured gaze seared her body like liquid flames. She felt his desire. Without his trench coat, the profile of his jeans showed the hard mass of his cock and she finally understood he wasn’t rejecting her because he didn’t want her. He was rejecting her because he didn’t want himself.

He tore his gaze away and clenched his fists, staring at the stone with self-loathing. “Now, you understand.”

She wanted to go to him. But he would only reject her again and again.

How much rejection could one heart take?

If she could persevere then could she break through his barriers and reach Kyan in his core? In his damaged heart?

She wasn’t good at braving disapproval. Even before her great mistake, making solo decisions had lodged her heart in her throat. She always choked.

Visualizing she’d made the right choices had helped. Seeing a therapist and working through her trauma had helped. Her loving, supportive family and understanding roommates had all helped. The past didn’t own her, but the future was still too far. She was stuck in a limbo.

Acting on her true desires was her first step in becoming the person she wanted to be.

Kyan was worth it.

She took a tentative step toward him.

As she’d predicted, he lifted a hand in the “stop” gesture.

Yes, the rejection stung.

She swallowed and took another step.

“Don’t come any closer.”

And another step.

His voice broke. “Please.”

And another.

Then, she stood at his broad shoulders, so powerful and capable, now slumped in defeat. She rested a palm on his shoulder.

He was her choice.

Kyan fixed on her. No longer fierce, his anger had drained, marinating her in sadness. He grieved for not being a male who deserved her love.

But he did deserve it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, again.

“You don’t understand what I want.”

“Then make it clear.”

His brows drew together. His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it. “I will wreck you.”

She cupped his wide jaw. “I’m not afraid.”

His arms slipped around her. Hesitant and so careful like he thought she might break from his touch. She stepped closer, encouraging him with soft murmurs, nuzzling into his neck. His head buried in the loose hair at her shoulder. He sucked in a deep breath. Letting it out, his whole body trembled.

She stroked the broad base of his neck. “It’s okay. I like you. It’s going to be okay.”

She said it for both of them.

And then he lifted her.

Floating in the air, her toes dangling over the stone, she clung on as Kyan soared into the bedroom. He laid her gently in the middle of the soft, rumpled sheets and released her, hovering inches above her body. Because he could do that. Because he was a dragon.

His hot gaze swept her body like a caress. Frizzy hair, button-up blouse, beige trousers, cotton socks.

Hmm. Not exactly dressed to seduce.

He read her mind as he so frequently seemed to do. “There are other types of clothes in the closet.”

“I saw them.” She’d been planning on escaping, not nestling in. “Next time.”

Still, he hovered. So close. Terrified of making the first move.

She understood the terror.

But she was ready. This was her decision. She chose Kyan.

She looped her fingers in his belt and drew him down.

He collapsed on top of her, gently crushing her into the bed with his welcome masculinity. His iron-hard thighs nudged hers apart. The deliciously powerful length of his cock pressed finally against her throbbing hot feminine core. He rested on his elbows, keeping the weight of his torso off her, but letting her luxuriate in the breadth and width of his powerful chest and world-carrying shoulders.

She tightened her arms around the small of his back and tilted her mouth up to meet his fiery kiss.

No hesitation any longer, his mouth claimed hers and his tongue thrust into her wet crevices, marking and branding her, filling her with him. His spicy scent seduced her nose. His hard cock ground against her aching cleft.

He stole her fears and her doubts. Desire smashed into arousal and combusted into an inferno of want.

He kissed down her jaw, nibbling and sucking, drizzling desire.

She gasped, writhing against him.

With careful fingers, he undid each button on her blouse and peeled back the silken halves, baring her satin bra and trembling belly.

His gaze heated her skin, and he traced a circle in the soft expanse around her belly button. “So smooth.”

His voice hitched.

Her heart swelled. There was awe in his voice. Because of her.

That had been missing before.

And she knew, just like she’d known from the beginning, being with Kyan would be more fulfilling than her deepest fantasies. He saw her, listened to her, respected her. A single word would stop him in his tracks. She never had to fear him. Never.

She knotted her fingers in his hair. “You can kiss more.”

He obeyed, placing feathery nibbles from her waist band up to her bra clasp.

Another shaft of desire throbbed between her legs. She arched her back, offering her breasts.

He deftly twisted the front clasp. The two satin cups eased apart. With infinite care, he scooped her aching breasts free and, with a quick glance at her face for permission, cupped the heavy globes in his huge palms.

Desire streaked to her center.

She whimpered and tugged his mouth to hers to feel the hunger in her desperate kiss.

His tongue stroked her mouth while his rough hands teased and pinched her aching nipples.

Where was the male who was going to “wreck” her? Kyan’s touch, his kiss, his gaze all told of nothing but caring. Tenderness. Worship. For being such a large, rough dragon, he teased her with the gentleness of a feathery soft lover.

She went up in flames.

He released her mouth and nuzzled her breasts.

“Yes,” she murmured and pulled him closer.

Tentative nibbles changed to long, hot strokes of his tongue that caused her nipples to contract and ache with pleasure. He sucked one into his mouth and then the other, tasting and teasing.

Sparkles of pleasure washed over her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, craving his cock to fill her and end this wonderful agony.

Sensing her need, his hands closed on her trouser fastenings. Unbuttoning and unzipping, he slid the pants down and rested his large, hot palm on her lace panties.

A twinge of nerves broke through the hazy cloud of passion.

This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

He caressed her, and it was good, but the worry in the back of her mind grew, distracting her.

His fingers ghosted along the edge of her damp pantie line.

She grabbed his hand.

He froze.

She opened her eyes, prepared to apologize, but he was studying her as if he’d been aware of her distraction for some time. Why not? He seemed to read her mind when they talked, so why not when she was half-naked?

He would go as fast or as slow as she wanted. He would stop right now.

She didn’t want to stop right now.

Why was she not over this trauma? She’d visualized and dreamed and fantasized. She’d done therapy and rediscovered her inner goddess and projected her ideal first lover.

Her past was still holding her back.

Okay. She wasn’t as healed as she wanted to be. Accept and move on.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s weird but do you mind very much if I touch myself? I like being in control.”

He shook his head. No, he didn’t mind at all.

Threads of relief shimmered through her. Of course he was fine with her awkward request.

She could still have everything she wanted.

Because her lover was Kyan.

Laura placed his palm on her waist and shimmied out of her panties.

His brows rose. Without lifting his hand from where she had placed it, his gaze strayed to her feminine vee and jerked back again, then strayed a second time. It was as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look but couldn’t help himself.

She tugged his hand up her belly to her breasts. If she didn’t demonstrate it was okay, he might put his hand in jail when she wanted it roving and bringing her more delicious caresses.

“You can touch everywhere else.”

Closing her eyes, she cupped her mons. She was soaking wet with arousal, and now that her mind was free of her worry, it was easy to slip right back to the delicious sensations of making love with Kyan.

He caressed her cheek with his knuckles.

She opened her eyes.

His penetrating blue gaze saw so much. More than she ever intended to reveal. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She felt a million times better, actually. Because she’d been honest. She’d shared what she needed, and he’d respected her.

Now, she wanted to enjoy the male she whole-heartedly chose.

Seeking his waistband, she unbuckled his belt. His cock remained reassuringly hard against her thigh and she wanted to see it, hold it, and caress it.

Unlike her, he had no hang-ups. He allowed her to unbutton his black jeans and tug down the zipper. Black boxer-briefs cupped his manhood. She delved under the tight waistband and pushed it down.

His hard cock emerged. A thick, curved, tapered work of art nestled in brown curls the same color as his hair.

She curled her fingers around the thick base.

He sucked in a breath.

This was her first hard male cock, and she savored it. Caressing the length from base to tip, she teased the lip of the head and the damp slit.

Amazing.

His mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. He held his breath. Just like when she’d kissed him. As though he were afraid to move or speak. He mustn’t break the spell.

“So smooth,” she teased.

His blue eyes pierced hers. “Laura.”

She yielded to his unspoken wishes. Rummaging through her trousers at her feet, she pulled a condom out of the back pocket. She passed them out at work, but recently she’d stuffed a few in her pocket for more personal reasons.

He stared.

She stopped. “Oh. Did you not want—?”

“I want what you want.” He focused on her clearly. “Whatever you want.”

Well, then, she was a nurse and safe sex was not just a spiel she gave to high risk patients. One day she’d feel his naked cock plunging into her, slippery and sliding in their shared heat, but that would be after he declared he loved her and wanted marriage and dogs and houses and children.

She rolled the thin plastic over his cock.

He pulsed beneath her, hot and hard. Good, her talk hadn’t killed his mood. No, if anything, her touch made him swell again.

He wanted what she wanted.

She had trusted him from the moment they’d landed in bed. He was worthy. She laid back, her blouse and bra open, naked below the waist.

Caressing his cock, she threaded her fingers through his soft hair again. Trusting him. Telling him what she wanted. “I want more kisses.”

He possessed her mouth, tangling her tongue in hot passion.

Her core throbbed, begging for his fulfillment.

She pulled her mouth free. “And caresses.”

He suckled her aching nipples, shooting pleasure mixed with sharp need deep into her center.

She wrapped one thigh around his and tugged his cock toward her slick, pounding entrance. “And you.”

He tore his mouth free and pressed forward, following her guiding hand, into her tight entrance. Her wet cleft spasmed with pleasure.

He was her first experience, and she wanted it slow. Savory. Delicious.

Kyan made her every unspoken wish come true.

Slowly, gently, sweetly thrusting, he stretched her, filling her fuller, connecting in a way she’d never connected with anyone before.

She canted her hips, adjusting to the pressure, breathing deeply.

He slid all the way home. United as male and female. Kyan and Laura. Forever.

He pillowed her head and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. A terrible protectiveness filled his gaze. The silent promises squeezed her heart.

“You’re holding your breath again,” she said.

He released it in a gust, dropped his forehead to her shoulder, and groaned. The movement pressed his cock into her deepest, neediest spot. Pleasure throbbed in her center. She released a hungry whimper.

He lifted his head.

She tightened her legs around his muscular waist, asking for more. And he gave it. Watching her closely, he found the spot and thrust, hot and wet, to the edge of a white-hot orgasm.

She shattered with pleasure, arching her back and screaming with intensity.

He stilled, forehead to hers, breath held. He shuddered silently as he unleashed his own passion.

They both caught their breaths and then he eased free and disposed of the condom.

How funny. Her first time and they’d barely gotten undressed. He was wearing his black shirt and she tangled in her bra and blouse.

Oh well. Right now, she just wanted to bask in the afterglow.

Sex was everything she’d dreamed. She was so glad she’d waited to share her first time with Kyan.

Life would never be the same.

He returned to the bed, and she snuggled against him. For the first time, in a very long time, she felt yummy and safe.