Becca’s heart swelled with his love and desire. “You don’t deserve to have your heart broken again.” Every time he’d thought about being inamorated, she’d always sensed grief. It was muted, as if years had passed, but the grief was still there… except she wasn’t sure if the grief was for what had been or what could be between them.

Which only made her more certain that giving in to her craving, to use Nero to forget herself and everything that had happened, was a bad idea. No matter how much her insides squirmed for more than just his embrace.

A mix of emotions tightened his eyes and swept through their mental connection, grief and resignation, but also awe and yearning.

“This isn’t something you can control. It’s not like a human infatuation.” His gaze dipped to her lips, and her pulse skipped a beat. “Even if you left me right now, my soul would crave you. I would never move on. There would never be another.” Not, at least, for two thousand years. Except she sensed even that wouldn’t happen now.

“This is stronger than before, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” His dark gaze grew intense, boring into her as if he could see her soul and feeding the flames of her desire. All that power, wrapping around her, filling her, anchoring her within herself.

It’s like lava burning through my veins, he said, his mental voice thick with need. My soul has chosen. Even if you’re not inamorated back, giving you what you crave won’t cause a greater hurt. It will satisfy your desires. “Let me satisfy you.”

Her pulse skipped a beat and her mouth went dry. His gaze held her essence, and she trembled with a need that was mirrored in his eyes. The heat from his flesh under her palms seeped over her arms and pooled low in her body, and the crackle of invisible energy, his impossible magic, tingled over her skin.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the word zinged like lightning through her and him, heightened by their mental connection.

He hissed, a whip of wind gusted to life and turned off the tub’s taps, then his mouth crushed against hers with a hunger that fueled her longing. This was right, what she needed, what he needed as well.

A growl— no, a purr rumbled in his chest, vibrating into her hands and resonating with the core of her soul. His grip on her back tightened and his other hand tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss.

Heat seared through her. His mouth plundered hers, his lips hungry with the ferocious passion that had radiated around him from the first time she’d seen him. She was on fire, her skin blazing, the magic in his soul sparking over her.

Her back hit the counter, his hand left her hair, and he captured her hips. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her up. She grabbed the waistband of his pants, tugged him between her thighs, and wrapped her legs around him, sliding herself against his erection. A shudder of need swept through him and into her. His hands slipped under her hoodie and tank top and brushed an agonizingly slow whisper of fingers against her skin, over her waist and up her ribs.

Too gentle. Too slow. She wanted hot, fast, hard. Needed it to burn through the memories haunting her, as well as to scorch away her fear and his. Yes, he was inamorated, and this was what he craved — she felt that sure and solid from their connection — but she also felt the fear he fought to acknowledge. A fear about the truth that, even if by some kind of miracle she was inamorated back, she still had a human lifespan.

She arched into him, drawing a groan from him.

“Too much thinking,” she said against his lips.

“What if I was thinking that you’re wearing too much clothing?” His fingers splayed over her ribs as his thumbs grazed her nipples with another teasing whisper of a touch.

Her breath hitched, and he trailed his lips down her neck to her collarbone as his thumbs teased her again.

“What if I said I wanted my mouth here.” Another graze, sending electricity zinging from her breasts straight to her core.

Yes. God, yes.

But his hands slipped out from under her hoodie.

“Did I not make myself clear?” She clenched her legs tighter, pressing him to her.

“You did.” He unzipped her hoodie.

She shrugged out of it, and he grabbed the bottom of her tank top and pulled it off over her head. His gaze trailed up her naked chest, but his mouth tightened when his eyes reached her shoulder where her tattoo trailed over and among her scars.

I’m sorry for that.

You didn’t shoot me or blow up my tactical transport. But the memory made her shiver, and her stomach tightened. She didn’t want to remember. For the love of God, all she wanted was a moment to be herself again, to forget everything that had happened, to bathe in the ferocity of this man’s passion. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t actually a man. It was his spirit that counted, and he was driven by the same things that drove her: a need to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

She met his gaze, letting his dark eyes and ferocious energy capture her. You promised satisfaction.

I did. He captured her lips again in a hungry kiss, his hands sliding over her ribs, his thumbs tortuously skimming the edges of her breasts, then his lips followed. They trailed a blazing line down her skin to one nipple then the other, laving, sucking, fueling the fire within her that burned all memory and thought away.

He tugged at her leggings. She lifted so he could pull them and her panties off, then captured him again between her legs, needing the hard heat of him against her, but he slipped a hand between them and stroked her. Glorious lightning snapped through her and stole her breath.

She gripped the counter to keep her balance, tipped her head back, and closed her eyes, letting the sensation flood her. Yes, oh, yes. This was what she needed.

Another purr rumbled through him, and he slid two fingers inside her, drawing another moan. His thumb brushed her clit, sending more lightning shuddering through her. Her breath hitched, and he tangled his free hand in her hair and captured her lips again with a scorching kiss. His fingers drove inside, and his thumb rubbed her, the movement growing faster and harder, driving her closer and closer to orgasm.

His need filled her, mind and soul, and she wrapped herself in it, letting their desire fuel each other. They shared breath, thought, and glorious sensation, building, surging into a powerful eruption. Her muscles clenched, his soul’s magic seared over her skin, and bliss exploded within her in a great wave that sent sparks flashing across her sight.

Oh, yes. Oh, God, yes.

He deepened his kiss, riding her wave of pleasure through their mental connection, and purred.

Hers. Only. Ever. Hers.

His certainty flooded her, and a flash of regret — that he knew she was using him and wasn’t inamorated back — swept through her.

Her throat tightened, and her pleasure turned bittersweet. No matter what he said, he deserved better than this. Being with her endangered those he cared about most. And yet she couldn’t stop herself, didn’t want him to move his hands from her body, and, no matter how desperately she knew it was wrong, couldn’t even begin to try severing the mental connection between them. He was her anchor, the missing piece within her that steadied the truth of her soul. And that terrified her more than the idea of just using him.

He stilled and pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath teasing across her cheeks and sending shivers of need sliding over her. Even now, against everything she knew was right for him, she wanted more.

Say the word and I’ll stop. He would. He’d do anything for her. Sacrifice everything.

And still—

“I don’t want you to stop.” That’s what scares me. She didn’t want to have his life in her hands. She didn’t want anyone’s life. Not after Afghanistan. People had trusted her, and they’d died. Nero’s soul, his fellow dragons, and his children— God, his children! That was too much responsibility. Too many people who would get hurt because she wasn’t strong enough to resist.

“It’s okay.” He cupped her face between his strong palms and met her gaze. “It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t. You don’t know me, and you’ll sacrifice everything for me.”

“It’s the way being inamorated works.” A hint of sadness crept into his eyes.

See, you don’t even like it. And that broke her heart more. A part of her wanted him to be happy to be with her, needed him to love her back—

His eyes widened, and she froze.

She needed him to love her back, not because some magical soul bond was forcing him, but because he wanted to.

Except that didn’t make sense. She barely knew him… and yet they were sharing thoughts and connecting on a level more intimate and revealing than anything she’d experienced before. She knew him. Core deep. The heart of his essence. He was a kindred spirit, a match to her soul.

A mental wall within her cracked. Magic was real. He was magic… and so was she.

Light and heat flooded her body, and Nero’s grip tightened, his hands having moved to her hips to steady her. Her skin burned where he held her, fueling an ache for more, for everything. The mental wall shattered and an electric shock snapped through her. This was her. The real her. And she belonged with him. She couldn’t put it into words. She just knew, like a key finding its lock and clicking open.