CHAPTER NINE
That evening was warm for June, and Kate wandered around the garden after dinner. The sky was clear and the moon was nearing full. The garden was in full bloom and the scents from the various flowers were lovely. Hamish had told her that many of the plants were blossoming earlier than usual this season.
As she approached the tall hedges marking the outer boundaries of the maze, she ran into Ross, who rounded the hedgerow from the other direction. They both stopped. She felt that instant pull of attraction that always struck when they encountered one another. He was so tall and commanding. So purely and compellingly male. She could easily imagine him stripped of his casual elegance and clad instead in rough leather and a kilt. The warrior of Mallochbirn, barely civilized and ready to leap into battle.
She wasn’t accustomed to men like Ross Malloch. She had never encountered his like. Although he was able to mask his elemental nature with courtesy and fine manners, he could not hide it entirely. In London or Boston or New York, at a party or a club, he would have set the women on fire and the men on edge as he prowled among them, seeking out and marking his prey.
"Lovely evening," she said, giving him a big smile. He always warmed to her smiles.
"Aye, it is that. Taking a turn about the garden?"
Mischievously she said, "I was about to enter the maze."
"Better take a snack. That maze is fiendish. You'll be wandering in there all night."
Since she still had the map of the maze firmly in mind, she countered, "Race you to the center?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "You must have a reckless desire for adventure. Do I look like someone who's likely to get lost in his own maze?"
"All things are possible," she said breezily. "I think I deserve a head start, though, don't you? At least a couple of minutes." As she passed him, she allowed her hand to brush his arm. He gave her a roguish smile. His eyes were merry, his mouth had an agreeable curl to it, and his black hair was shining in the moonlight. And there was something in his aura—or in the aura generated between them—a sensual force that tugged at her. She had felt a hint of it as soon as they’d met, and since then it had built relentlessly.
"You'll probably beat me," she said. "But in the unlikely event that I win, what do I get as a prize?"
"What would you like?"
A thought came to mind, and she voiced it without considering why she was asking. "I want to hear about your sea dragon. The whole story, I mean. And I want to visit that old cavern beneath the castle. I know you said it was unsafe, but perhaps you could accompany me?"
He looked surprised. And somewhat alarmed. "Those old caverns are dangerous, but I'll be happy to tell you about the Zrakon."
"I found an old book in your library that claimed that something in the cavern was the key to the mystery of Mallochbirn." She paused, adding, "You could show me your dungeon on the way."
"I don't actually have a dungeon," he said, but she had caught the flare of desire in his eyes. "I mean, it's just an old chamber, where they used to do god only knows what."
"No whips? No chains? I'm disappointed," she teased.
For a moment, she thought he was going to seize her, kiss her, maybe even throw her down on the ground and sensually assault her. She felt an intently focused desire that sent a bolt of fire down her spine. He leaned a bit toward her, sending another thrill surging through her. It left her brains scrambled and her innards churning, because the thought of his seizing her made her wet.
"Suppose I’m the one who solves the maze puzzle first?" he said. "Would you like to hear what I want?"
"I think I can guess," she laughed.
"I want you. Naked and spread out for me. The heart of the maze would be a nice spot for it. It's grassy, cozy and sheltered."
She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. Naked and spread out for me. Whew! The appeal of losing had just zoomed upward. "I'm not sure I should stake quite so much on a strange maze."
"I think you want to. You're a bit of a risk-taker. I can tell."
"I'll gladly stake a kiss. But more than that? We'll just have to see, won't we?"
"A kiss it is, then. At the very least, lassie."
"If you win. Don't get your hopes up. I'm good at mazes."
With that, she darted through the narrow opening in the hedgerows, and set off quickly down one of the paths that opened up before her, hoping she would indeed remember the twists and turns to come. It was dark. She hadn't expected to find her way through at night, and she wondered if she could.
"Two minutes," he called to her. "Then I'm coming in after you."
"You'll never catch me, m'laird. See you in the heart of the maze."
"You're going to regret this, Kate. One minute."
"Hey, no speeding up time!"
"Fine, I won't cheat. But you'll soon be wandering helplessly in there."
"Ha. We shall see."
Ross did not attempt to hurry through the maze. Although it had been years since he had last tried to reach the center, the maze was tricky and he doubted a newcomer would easily solve it. He quickly found that he didn't remember it as well as he thought he did. He followed several frustratingly false trails, one of which led him deep into the maze before dead-ending. He would have become lost were it not for his excellent sense of direction. He was good at this sort of puzzle. Although he could not discern in advance which paths through the maze were false, he could retrace his steps without error and test new paths without becoming confused.
"Are you lost yet?" Kate called. Her voice had a flirtatious lilt that he was coming to love.
"I’m not sure. Are you?"
"I made a wrong turn or two, but I’m making good progress now, I think."
"It’s damnably dark."
"Look up. The stars are out, the moon is nearly full, and the night is warm and beautiful."
"Agreed. Did you know that when you’re in the maze, sheltered on all sides by the hedgerows, the stars shine more brightly here than anywhere else?"
"I gather that you are very fond of your island."
"I am indeed. But I’m beginning to fear that I might be doomed to wander these hedgy pathways forever."
"Take heart—I will come to your rescue before I allow you to suffer that fate."
He smiled. Nothing was going to prevent him from reaching her.
A few minutes later, he heard her cry out in triumph. "I’m here at last! In the center. I have defeated you, Ross."
He was astonished. How the hell did she do that? Shit! "Seriously? How do you know it's the center?"
"Well, it's round, there's a Pan fountain flowing, and an old stone bench."
"Damn."
She laughed. "Do you need assistance yet?"
"Not likely. It’s just a case of eliminating various possibilities."
"You could spend the entire night doing that."
"I would never keep a lady waiting so long."
She laughed.
Now that she was in one place instead of moving through the maze, finding her was an easy matter. He permitted himself the luxury of focusing his senses upon her. It was like unfastening a floodgate—she flowed to him like water, her scents, varied and full of sweet, feminine mysteries; and, even more exciting, her sounds—from the tiny almost imperceptible rustlings of her garments, to the in-out movements of her breath and the slow, steady beating of her blood.
With these perceptions to draw him, it was only a few minutes before he silently rounded the last turn and saw her sitting on the low marble bench in the heart of the maze. Her head was thrown back, and she was gazing at the sky. Moonlight silvered her fine features and made her hair shimmer. She looked almost ethereal—an unearthly creature lurking there.
His lips twisted. He had conquered the maze, hunting her to the heart of it with the single-minded efficiency of the dragon of Mallochbirn, and his blood was up. The urge to swoop down upon her and bend her to his will blazed through his body. It would happen anyway, sooner or later. He would have this woman. She was his.
He made no sound, but her own senses must be acute, since she turned to meet his gaze. She appeared startled, and then she smiled. "Bravo! Still, I did get here first, so you will have to pay your forfeit. I want to hear about the sea dragon whose existence you keep denying."
"You might regret such a wish," he said, sitting down beside her on the bench. He did not touch her, but he could feel her body’s warmth. Fearing that such proximity might destroy what little self-control he was able to command, he bobbed up again, and paced back and forth in front of her instead. "But if you insist, I'll tell you a tale of my ancestors and their sacred duties here."
She gave her full-bodied, amiable laugh. "I’m a great admirer of folktales, as you know."
"We do have a dragon. You heard about him in the village the other night. He's called the Zrakon. Would you like to know where he came from?"
"I'd love to."
"It is said that in ancient times this island was a sacred place of pagan veneration and worship."
"And human sacrifice, I suppose?"
"Naturally. Along with wild orgies."
"We mustn't forget those."
"The veil between the worlds is fragile here, and beings like the Zrakon can go back and forth."
"Back and forth to where?"
"To a place of magic and mysticism. At one time, before human memory, there was only one world. All creatures, magical and ordinary, dwelt there. But a cataclysm caused a deep rift in creation, resulting in two separate worlds."
"And magical creatures were consigned to the other realm?"
"Aye. But from earliest times there have been reports of dragons, sea serpents, mermaids, fairies, large predatory birds and other strange creatures in the mountains and seas around Mallochbirn."
"Ah." Her eyes were sparkling.
He paused in front of her. "Deep in the heart of the oldest part of Mallochbirn—that would be the cavern, I suppose—is a place where the barrier between the worlds is thin. The original keep was built to guard this rift. In every generation, the laird must vow to protect the barrier. In return, he is granted some special powers. In due time, after mating and producing children, he turns his sacred responsibility over to his heir."
"What are you supposed to guard this barrier from, exactly?"
"From forbidden incursions. Now that the two worlds have separated, they must be kept apart. There is no magic to speak of in our world. It must be kept out."
"Surely a little magic can be permitted to enter our world. Everybody needs a touch of magic."
He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and brushed a silky lock of her hair with his fingertips. "Even a touch of magic can be dangerous."
She blinked, her inky lashes briefly curtaining her eyes. "You’re speaking as if magic were real."
"What makes you think it isn’t?"
"I wish it were! I'd love to see the fantastic creatures that pass through this barrier. Your sea dragon, in particular."
"That might be arranged." He smiled. "I am, as you know, the current Laird of Mallochbirn."
Her eyes were very bright. "And you have mystical powers."
"So I’m told."
She tilted her head and studied him more closely than she ever had before. With his heightened senses, Ross perceived that she was assessing him on many different levels. He thought he felt a faint brush against his mental walls. He rebuffed it automatically, then wished he hadn’t. He knew what it was like to be open to her, and he enjoyed it.
"I would dearly like to meet your Zrakon. Can you summon him through the mystical barrier for me?"
"That might be dangerous."
"Shall we try your powers on something smaller? I hear rustling in the hedgerow there—it’s probably a mouse. Can you command its will enough to lure it out of hiding?"
"You like mice?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
"I like every sort of animal."
Her challenge was not entirely casual, he suspected. She had been able to form a link with the Zrakon. The only other person who could do that was his twin, with whom he shared identical DNA.
Ross focused, reaching out with his mind. She was right—there was a mouse nearby. The fact that she could perceive it was telling. Most humans would not have known it was there.
He closed a mental bond with the mouse—a trivial feat, really, and lured it into the open. It scampered obediently toward his boot. He stooped, cupped his hand in the grass, and the mouse crawled into his palm.
Kate, who had been watching him with an arch smile, gasped. She slipped to her knees beside the bench, squinting down at the tiny field mouse that he held out to her. "How did you do that?" There was no skepticism in her voice now. "The poor thing—it’s trembling."
"It’s frightened." He released the creature, which scurried away, diving into the hedgerow.
"I’ve never seen anyone do that before. I can communicate with cats and dogs and such. But they don't obey my will."
"I'm not that good with cats. I get along well with most other animals, but cats remain elusive." He grinned. "Rather like human females."
Kate rose to her feet, but her knees were weak. Who was this man? He had just moved them both into a different territory. Ross Malloch had casually done something she would have thought impossible. "How did you do that?"
"I’ve startled you. Forgive me. I am a vet, as you know. I have an affinity for animals."
"Will you teach me?"
His smile flashed, crinkling his eyes and softening his cheekbones. He moved closer and his voice lowered, spinning a sensual web around her. "Teach you what?"
She felt giddy. She was alone in the heart of a maze with a sorcerer. And unless she was mistaken, he was going to kiss her.
He moved the two paces that brought him close to her. The atmosphere around them thickened. It was as if he walked around with his own cloud of sensuality surrounding him. All he had to do was get near her and she was engulfed, too.
He drew her close. There was heat where his body touched hers. It made her breasts heavy and caused a warm, fluttery feeling in her belly. Desire. She wanted him so much.
She felt his fingers brush her scalp, and then graze the side of her throat. He cupped her chin. His blue eyes, intense now, gazed down into hers, then blurred as he lowered his face to hers.
He took his time. His mouth stayed poised above hers while the small space between them pulsed and throbbed with expectation. He brought her closer still, tightening the arm around her waist. His other hand slid into her hair. The air sizzled as his lips touched hers.
The mouth that could look so hard and stern at times could kiss like velvet. He tangled his tongue with hers. The skill of that tongue sent bolts of arousal into her breasts and belly. Her arms slid around him and clung. She went up on her tiptoes and rubbed herself against him. She could feel him along the entire length of her, hard bone and firm sinew pressing aggressively into her softer flesh.
He sighed with pleasure. She could feel his heart thundering against her breasts, and between her legs she was slick and hungry.
The hand that had been in her hair moved. His fingers descended along her back to her hip, then cupped her butt and squeezed hard before sliding up the groove of her spine, one vertebra at a time.
Kate was damp with need, intoxicated by him. Fiercely, she caressed the smooth, firm muscles of his back. He made a low growling sound of encouragement. "Kate," he murmured. His breathing changed and she felt him tremble. His hands roughened, and his touch felt like fire.
He explored her breasts, pushing fabric aside. Her eyes widened, for, as his fingers drifted over her, they gave off tiny sparkles of light, like phosphorescence on the surface of the sea at night.
He seemed to notice it at the same time she did. His hand stopped moving. "Don’t be afraid," he said raggedly. "It’s nothing." He drew a deep breath and the sparkles coming from his fingers winked out. Kate blinked at the air where they had been, wondering if intense desire could make people see stars.
Ross seemed to realize how tightly he was holding her. He released her. A look of unease crossed his features. "Am I hurting you?"
Kate shook her head. She wanted to laugh out loud. Who was this man, this mysterious Ross Malloch? She had never met anyone remotely like him. He was special. He gave off sparks.
How would it feel to strip off his clothes, and trace her fingers over his glowing skin? Her body yearned to join with his, giving and receiving all varieties of pleasure.
Ross cleared his throat and passed the back of his hand over his damp forehead. "That settles it."
"What was that?"
"There is a bond between us. You felt it, too."
"Well, I certainly felt something."
"There’s a strange old legend about the Zrakon’s Bond—I thought it was a fable, but maybe it's not. You are meant to be with me. To be my mate."
Kate backed up a step. "Your—wait, what do you mean?"
"You know what I mean."
She didn't know what he meant, but what the hell, who cared? The energy emitted by his hands had looked like sparkler fireworks from Fourth of July celebrations. How would they feel against her skin? Taking his hand, she brought it back to her breast.
She felt him tense. "I don't want to hurt you."
Her curiosity was stronger than her fear. She had to know how it felt. "It doesn't hurt."
That wasn't entirely true. As soon as his skin touched her, the sparkles started up again. As she drew his hand inside the neckline of her top, she felt both heat and static. The sensation was odd. It didn't exactly burn, didn't exactly shock, but was something in between—a strong tingling, vibrating feeling. "What does it feel like to you?"
"It feels good," he admitted. "Intense." His eyes looked dreamy. "It's warm and it tingles. It makes your skin feel extra soft and silky. It's as if all the nerves in my fingers have been zapped up to a higher degree of sensitivity."
"That's how it feels to me, too. It's as if your fingers have turned into a human vibrator."
He laughed low in his throat. "Really? Well, in that case..." He slid his glowing hands lower on her breasts, letting the sparkles flicker over her nipples. She groaned and arched her spine, bringing her breasts more fully into contact with his magic. The sensation from sparkles radiated from her nipple down in a line to her clit, which pulsed strongly. Her breath came out in a sigh. "Ross," she said his name like a plea. "It doesn't matter who won the race. If you want to get naked right here in the maze, I won't say no."
Ross felt his pulse go into overdrive. Had she just said yes to him? Sure sounded like it.
He knew now the true tenor of their bond. No sooner had she surrendered to his first kiss than the erotic magic of the Zrakon swept through him. She had been seared upon him, body and soul. It was more than just a sexual attraction, far more. She had imprinted on him. She was his mate.
The Zrakon wanted her, he knew that, but he wasn't the Zrakon—at least, the Zrakon wasn't all that he was. The Zrakon's midsummer lust every year was an inconvenience, but he had tolerated it since the first time, when he'd been nineteen. Usually the damn creature left him alone. They didn't even have the same taste in women. The Zrakon liked lassies like, well, like Effie.
But one of the most enduring legends of the isle was that he, the human part of him, would one day feel a mystical bond with a human female and fall in love with her. And now his body was clamoring to seize Kate, march her up to his bedroom, tear off her clothing, and fuck her until they both screamed aloud, sealing the bond between them.
The Zrakon always knows his mate.
Control, damnation, get some control. He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly.
She was his. He let the images of what he intended flow toward her, envelope her. She felt them; he could tell by the way her lips parted and her breathing grew shallow and fast. He could arouse her without even touching her. They shared a telepathic link. That was exactly the way it should be between them now.
He wasn't going to waste this chance, burning hands or no burning hands. As gently as possible, he slipped her top over her head. It got tangled in her long hair, but she laughed and helped him pull it free. He loved her laugh—so deep and throaty. Kate was a woman who really enjoyed life. It was one of the things that drew him to her.
It might be his hands that were glowing with mystical fire, but she was the one whose warmth radiated into all the gloomy corners of Mallochbirn. He was certain that the riot of colorful flowers blooming in the garden today was due to her presence. The entire place was greener and more fertile since the Zrakon had cradled her against his breast and brought her to the keep.
Don't think about that, he warned himself. The Zrakon was growing more and more difficult to suppress. Touching her in his human form, especially when his dick was so hard and heavy with desire, was a dangerous thing to do. The more aroused he got, the closer to the surface the beast rose. Usually the only time of year when it was difficult to keep him buried was on Midsummer's Eve, when he came out and had his fun. But this year his fun had been denied.
Kate had already unsnapped and slipped out of her bra. Christ, her breasts were beautiful. Pert and plump, they were larger than he had imagined. He wondered if, like many women, she worried about them being too large. Why did so many women choose to be so skinny these days? Some of them barely had breasts at all. Kate's were just the right size, though. Lovely breasts, her dark nipples hard with arousal.
He put both his hands on her breasts and let the sparkles stimulate the nipples. At first she flinched slightly, and he knew what she was feeling could not be quite as harmless as she had claimed. But a moment later, she relaxed and even arched into his hands. Her lovely eyes closed and the expression on her face spoke volumes—she was into it. Her head fell back and she writhed like an erotic dancer as the sparkles danced over her flesh.
"It's so amazing," she murmured. "I've never felt anything like it. You're some kind of sorcerer, aren't you? The Sorcerer of Sex."
He laughed, not feeling much like a sorcerer, but wishing he knew more magic, if magic would please her. Keeping one hand at her breast, he slowly moved the other down over her belly. Her skin felt so smooth. Every touch of it reverberated in his cock, which was just about splitting his trousers. He traced his hand in a circle across her abs, which were well-defined. She was really fit.
She was wearing one of those skirts that clung to the hips rather than the waist, but it was getting in the way. He searched for its fastenings, and she obliged by unbuttoning something in the back and pushing it down over her hips. Then she kicked out of it and slid her bikini panties down her long, lovely legs. She didn't seem at all shy to be naked, which didn't surprise him. He reminded himself that he had already seen her bare body thru his Zrakon eyes. And then again as a human when he carried her from the cavern to her bedroom in the Tower. But even so, her body was a revelation to him.
She was perfect. Her hips were lush and her ass was delightfully rounded. Between her thighs, her dark thatch of hair was full and a delicious contrast to her rose-ivory skin. "You're a goddess."
She laughed lustily. "You're the mystical being here, not me. And you're wearing too many clothes."
He hurried to repair that oversight. Oddly, the glowing of his hands died out when he touched his own body, so he couldn't tell what it felt like to press the sparkles to his own skin. Probably just as well—he wasn't much for pain, even during sex, although he couldn't deny that he enjoyed dealing it out if such was a woman's desire. He would happily spank a juicy bottom or pinch an erect nipple just to feel his partner react to the intense stimulus. If the sparkles excited Kate, even if they hurt her a little bit, his cock—and the fierce Zrakon inside him—would be all the more aroused and pleased.
There was a cruel side to the Zrakon, he knew. If the beast was out of control, he could be sadistic. Perhaps it was just his nature, or perhaps the violence of his pleasures wouldn't seem so dramatic if his partner was a female sea dragon, with a tough hide. What the Zrakon wanted was not so different from what Ross, the man wanted—to thrust his aching cock inside his female partner. Too bad there were no female sea dragons in the waters around this island—life would be much simpler for everybody if the poor dragon had not been placed under a curse.
"You're too slow," she laughed, and helped him with his trousers. Her hand found him quickly as he slid pants and underwear down. "You're not glowing here," she noted. She stroked him up and down his erect cock, and then she dropped to her knees. The realization that she was going to take him in her mouth nearly made him come on the spot. A moment later her tongue flicked around the rim before sucking him into her hot, silky mouth. God!
She pulled back, taking him in one hand. She pumped her fist up and down his shaft, and then held him still while she explored the head with her tongue. While teasing the slit with the extreme tip of her tongue, she caressed his balls with her clever fingers. Then she drew him part way into her mouth again and sucked hard.
He nearly exploded. He held back because it felt so damn good. He didn't want it to end. There were too many things he wanted to do to her, this bare beautiful goddess who was kneeling, naked, at his feet. His hands dove into her thick hair and pulled her to him as he thrust deeper. He was so hot for her that he knew he was right on the verge of getting rough. He was afraid he would choke her with his thick cock, but she managed to take him without faltering, her mouth a deep well for a thirsty man.
He'd been dreaming about this. Imagining how it would be. But it was so much sweeter.
Her tongue kept working him while one of her hands massaged his balls. The other went around to grab his ass and urge him to take her harder, faster. She sucked him deeper, taking all of him, bobbing her lovely head up and down. One of her fingers found the spot between his ball sack and his arsehole and pressed. Ah, the bliss of it. He was sure he must be hurting her as he pumped his hips into her face, fast, fiercely, driving just as deep as it was possible to go, and groaning as she sucked him into mindlessness.
He was going to come in her mouth. He couldn't stop it. He hoped to hell she wouldn't mind because he was beyond control, beyond thought, burning up with passion. "Catriona," he moaned, reveling in her mouth, her breasts, her beautiful hair. She must have pressed that tender spot again behind his balls because pleasure and muscle tension both erupted together, sending waves of ecstatic release crashing through him. He shot into her mouth, and she swallowed him down, continuing the gentle licking and sucking afterwards, soothing him as he gradually descended.
When she backed off and looked up at him, her green eyes were smiling. "I think we put out your fires, at least for a little while."
Laughing, he sank down in the grass beside her. "That was amazing. Sorry to lose myself so completely, but you sent me right over the edge. You're so fucking sexy." He ran his hands, which, indeed, had stopped glowing, over her breasts. Her nipples were rosy beads, erect and sensitive in the moonlight. "I'll make it up to you, though."
"You'd better," she teased him.
He could still feel the pleasure coursing through him, but curiously, his desire had not died away. As he touched her, stroked her, it surged again. His genitals began to fill and ache as if unsatisfied. It was the Zrakon who was unsatisfied. The beast inside him wanted more than human-to-human congress; it wanted Kate spread out beneath his dragon body, writhing in pain as he speared into her with his monstrous spiked cock. He wasn't sure why his beast wanted that so much, but he felt the rise of timeless ancient lust, and he was afraid for her.
She didn't remember her experience with the Zrakon. Maybe that had been a bad idea—making her forget. She was curious about his sea dragon without realizing that he was the monster.
She leaned up to kiss his mouth. He pulled her to him, wrapping her tight in his arms and sealing his lips to hers. It must be the kiss that did it—because his fingers began once again to glow and spark. She shivered as he ran his hands under her hair and down her back.
"The tingling," she whispered.
"Aye. It's coming back. Is it hurting?"
"No. Not exactly. It's strange. Magical, I think. It burns a little, yes, but it's good pain, if that makes any sense."
This time, though, he felt as if he was burning inside. Desire was again overwhelming him, and not just physical desire. His brain felt strange. He couldn't think clearly. He lifted Kate as if she weighed nothing and laid her over the low stone bench, her belly on the bench and her ass in the air. "So sexy," he said, as he spread her thighs and bent to bathe her pussy with his tongue.
She arched and cried out. She was wet and tangy, all woman, delicious and wild. He loved the way she squirmed. He held her down firmly with one sparkling hand on her ass as he licked and sucked her pussy, stabbing his tongue into her.
"Oh, Ross, that's so good," she moaned, twisting beneath his touch.
He inched toward her clit, teasing and circling before sliding his tongue across the firm little bud. She gasped, and he slapped her bottom with his glowing hand, feeling increasingly eager to feel her twitch, hear her cry. She was his now and he could do anything. She was his to play with, his to enjoy, his to torment if such was his need and his desire.
"Is my hand burning you?" he whispered. He sucked hard on her clit. She moaned and ground herself against him. He sucked harder, then bathed the bud with his tongue. "Answer me."
"Um...yes, a little, but it's okay."
He ran his glowing fingers up her spine and felt her jerk and shiver. Over her shoulders and down her sides to her buttocks again. He spanked her lightly. She cried out in what he thought was pleasure, but might have been pain. "Do you like that?"
"Oh god, yes!"
He rubbed more vigorously, fascinated by the way the sparkles danced over the soft curves of her ass. He spanked her harder, and her cries grew louder, more intense. "Shall I use my fiery hand on your clit?"
She bucked and moaned, obviously not sure whether this would drive her mad with bliss or hurt like hell. He wasn't sure, either, but the dragon inside him didn't care.
"I think I will, lassie." She was his—his—and she would know it, now and forever. She would feel what he was doing to her and know. He would claim her with his forbidden fire. He would revel as she screamed out her ecstasy.
But before he could slide his hand into that sweet cleft, she made a sound that he dimly recognized as distress. Beneath the sparkly hand he was pressing against her butt, her skin was a little red.
"It is hurting," she gasped. "Maybe a bit too much. It's—"
Shit, he thought, and tore his mystical fingers away. This was supremely hard to do, and as he did it, inside him, the Zrakon roared. He was being denied, again, and he was in no mood for denial. The glowing aura was part of his ancient dragonfire, the fire that had been stolen from him and drowned in the sea. He wanted to use it. Now. On her.
No.
The Zrakon's fury erupted. To his horror, Ross saw his glowing hands and arms shimmer and change, turning thicker, stronger, and covered with iridescent scales. The air around them heated and crackled as the change raced up his arms and into his shoulders. Pain and rage shuddered through him. He was not going to be denied.
Holy shit. He had never shifted spontaneously before. He had to stop it. She didn't know. The Zrakon wanted her just the way she was—he intended to drive himself into her vulnerable body, so widely spread and waiting for him. Dammit! He had to keep control.
"Kate," his voice sounded hoarse and unnatural. "You aren't safe here. Get up, get out. Kate. I'm serious. Go."
But Kate, languorous from sexual passion, didn't leap up and run away. Of course not. She laughed in her cheery spontaneous way. "Who ever said I wanted to be safe? You're not stopping, are you?"
Fuck. It was like trying to slam the door on a tornado. Any second she was going to roll over or push herself up from the bench, see his half-shifted body, and freak.
If you want her to love you, you great fool of a lummox, he told his monster self, you'll have to win her with tenderness, not brand her with pain.
Then he tried to think of the driest possible subject he could imagine, settling on envisioning protein synthesis deep inside a single human cell. Codons. Transcription. Translation. The intricacies of protein folding. Thank the gods for all the years he had spent studying biology and biochemistry, because this utterly confounded the Zrakon. The change stuttered to a halt.
But she wasn't safe yet. His dragon was still raging just beneath the surface. With a monumental effort, Ross held on hard to Kate's spirit. He made her his anchor in the human world, and drove the Zrakon back. Down. Into the depths of him, where he belonged.
A little shakily, he backed away from the woman he and his beast so dearly wanted to fuck. "I don't mean to deprive you, but I think we should wait until this magic attack subsides. Your beautiful butt has a reddish outline of my fingers and palm. Much though I love to see my mark on you, I don't want to burn you. I mean, that could be damned inconvenient later."
He tried to say this lightly, but he was worried. What if he couldn't make love to her in a normal way?
"It does sting a bit," she admitted, pushing herself up and looking down over one shoulder, trying to see her ass.
"We have to get out of the maze. There's magic here, and it's affecting me. Come. Put your clothes on. We can go somewhere a little less fraught with Mallochbirn mysticism."
She pouted a bit, but she obeyed. She kept rubbing her sore ass even after it was covered, but she didn't seem too uncomfortable, and she looked so cute doing it that he felt laughter bubble up. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of a spot less fraught with magic. The dragon would accompany them anywhere he went.