Chapter Seven
Lucian landed with a thud on the roof of his lair.
He didn’t sweep the keep for Arabella—he didn’t need the confusing temptation of her scent right now. The flight back from Seattle had been spent in torment enough. His dragon wanted her, and soon enough, his wyvern form would, too. The only way to keep the realms apart was to mate with her… but that was much more likely to result in her death than to give him a dragonling. Not that his wyvern would care. With Cara, Lucian believed that if only his love were strong enough, it would carry them through. But it hadn’t been. And it didn’t.
And he’d already pushed Arabella away far too much. He’d hurt her in an attempt to save her. If they mated, those doubts would come back to haunt him… and it would only result in her death, and his shortly afterward. Because there was zero possibility of him enduring that again—he was on the edge of turning wyvern as it was. No matter what path he took, there were none that ended with him fulfilling the treaty and several that ended with Arabella’s death.
He much preferred to die first.
And he was running out of time for that option, too.
As his boots stomped heavily down the spiral staircase to his lair, he contemplated just how much time he actually had. The appearance of his wyvern had shaken him to the core. There was no way to know for certain if he had hours or days or weeks. The only safe course was to fly away to his dying place. His tomb. Like every dragon nearing the end of his life, he had prepared one. He didn’t relish inhabiting it, and certainly not so soon.
But he might not have a choice if he wanted to keep her safe.
Lucian hesitated in the hallway outside his bedroom. He should consult with his brothers, make plans—because abandoning all hope of securing the treaty had far more ramifications beyond just his pathetic life, and soon, his death. He could at least help pave the way with them for the coming times of trouble, even if he wouldn’t be there to join the fight. But the hour was past midnight, and truth be told, he was still exhausted—the world had taken its toll on him. He could do with more rest before facing his fate. In the morning, he would have the energy for his final preparations. He waved open the door to his bedroom and strode in.
He only got three steps before he stumbled to a stop.
Arabella stood in the middle of his room, barely clothed, skin still damp, her white t-shirt clinging wetly to her delicate body, showing every curve, her wet hair draped in long lumps down her chest.
He blinked. For an insane moment, he thought he was having some kind of dream.
“I let myself in.” Her words were hesitant. Her hands trembled a little as she held them palm up when she shrugged. “You haven’t changed the passcode.”
He rubbed a hand over his eyes, but she was still there. “Why…” His tongue was thick, but now that his mind was grasping the fact that she was truly here —truly standing half naked in his bedroom— her scent washed over him in a wave that nearly dragged him under. He reeled from it, unable to form words.
“Lucian, please. Just hear me out.” The look on her face made it clear—she thought he might throw her out. In reality, he was having to root his boots to the floor to keep from throwing her into his bed and having his way with her. One last time. One last taste of life…
“Arabella.” No more words would come.
“Please.” She edged toward him. “I know everything.” She took two more steps, now only a half dozen feet away. Her nipples were taut under some barely-there swimsuit that was making his mouth ache.
Her words registered in his mind. “What do you know?” he asked, frowning.
“I know that your wyvern form is threatening to come out, and that means you’re close to the end.” A step closer, then another. “I know you’re running out of time to fulfill the treaty, and that not fulfilling the treaty threatens everyone, human and dragons alike.” Another step. Holy mother of magic, he could reach right out and touch her now. She dropped her voice. “I know you’ve been to the city to hook up with women. That you’re searching for a new mate again. And I just have one question.”
“A question?” he asked, his mind befuddled and intoxicated by her nearness.
“Did you find someone else? Someone who could love you more than I do?” She blinked fast like she was holding back tears.
He just stared at her in wonder.
“Because if you have,” she said, “then I’ll walk away. I’ll step aside and let her love you and try to give you a dragonling. But if you haven’t… if there’s any chance…” Tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.
He couldn’t breathe. His heart was threatening to stop in his chest as well.
She visibly swallowed. “If there’s any way you’ll let me, I want to love you, Lucian Smoke. I already love you. And I can’t swear that it’s a True Love, not the kind that will fulfill the treaty, because dammit I don’t even know what love is, except… I know that I do love you… and I can’t stand the thought of you hurt or dying or turning into some kind of wild animal or… or… in the arms of someone else…” The tear grew fat and full at the corner of her eye, and it held him hostage right up until it dropped… and then it unlocked something inside him.
“Stop.” His words were hoarse, a gasp of pain. He seized her by the shoulders to silence the words that were slicing him to ribbons. He pulled her close, and she just blinked up at him with glassy eyes. “It was always you, Arabella. It will always be you.”
She gasped, then sobbed, then the barest bit of a smile tugged at her lips.
“I need you,” he whispered, pulling her even closer, leaning in but not kissing her, not yet. “So badly. Please be with me.”
Her tears were flowing, but her smile shone through them. “Always.”
And then he didn’t care anymore, and he couldn’t stop himself if he did.
He crashed his lips down on her, devouring and demanding, tasting her and breathing her in. He brushed back her wet hair, and held her head with both hands, consumed by the act of kissing her. All the darkness in his soul was banished by that simple act, the mere fact of touching her, holding her, connecting his soul with hers once again. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, and her body was climbing him, trying to get closer. Even with her barely-there swimsuit, there were too many clothes between them. He needed every inch of her body in his possession, the soft canvas of her skin laid bare for his touch.
With a flick of his hand, he magicked away his own clothes. She gasped, and her hands were a soft torture on his bare skin, but he broke their kiss long enough to seize her wet shirt and pull it free of her body. He didn’t want to risk shifting with her in the room, so the rest had to come off the conventional way, but he made quick work of sliding off her bottoms and releasing the top with its ties. Her naked and chilled body was goosebumped all over, her breasts standing at perky attention in a way that made his mouth water.
He lifted her in one quick motion, wrapping her legs around his back as he quickly walked her to his bed. The feel of her bare arms around him, her pointed nipples brushing his chest, the heat of her sex so near his cock… he needed to be inside her. Now.
There would be time for slowness and softness later. He would spend his last night making love to her, not sleeping… and suddenly the rightness of that was so profound it was like the heavens had opened and a choir of angels had blessed his bed. He laid her down in it, not disconnecting with her for even a moment, which left her legs wrapped around his back and her hands buried in his hair, pulling him in for more kissing. More sweetness and heat, the salt of her tears mixing with the heady scent of her sex. She was everything good and right in the world, the essence of humanity that he and every dragon loved and cherished and protected—and he would have her for one more night before the final release of death set him free of the world and its torturous, impossible demands.
He lifted from devouring her mouth to taste the glory of her neck. “My sweet, sweet Arabella,” he said between kisses. “I need you now, my love.”
“I am yours,” she breathed, and there was such submission in it, such a giving over and pledging of her heart that it nearly brought tears to Lucian’s eyes. He wasn’t deserving of the great gift of her love, but he snatched it up and breathed it in, greedy for it. Because he needed it more than anything in any realm. More than he needed her body, which was well-nigh an impossible thing for him to deny at the moment.
He pulled her hands free from his hair, laced his fingers with them, and held them over her head, pressed deep into the comforter of his bed. His cock was aching, pressed against the heat of her skin and so near her sex, but not where he needed it. She bucked her hips against him.
He squeezed her hands, both trapped in his and planted above her head, in response. “Lie still, sweet one. So I can make you mine.” He could barely breathe, his need was so great, but she stopped grinding against him long enough for him to pull back, angle just right, and thrust his cock deep inside the hot sweetness of her body.
His groan was loud and nearly covered the shriek that pried loose from her.
But staying still wasn’t an option. He pulled back and thrust deep again, eliciting another shriek, this one heavily laced with a moan. She was so damn tight, it felt like he was taking her anew with each stroke. His breath was ragged with need as he thrust inside her again and again. He could feel her quiver around him, and her whimpers and struggles against the hold he had on her, keeping her hands pinned and her body subject to his pounding, told him she was rushing already toward release. He shifted his angle, diving deeper and pulling a moan so visceral from her that it had him quickening toward his own release as well.
“Holy fuck… Arabella…” He was panting as he took her, words strangling in his mouth. He wanted—nay, needed —her to reach her peak because he simply couldn’t last. She was too hot, too tight, too beautiful in her open-mouthed gasps of pleasure.
“Oh God, Lucian… Oh God…” Her voice pitched up, and then she was bucking and shrieking underneath him, crying out his name and her love and pulsing all around his cock in a symphony of ecstasy that he had no power to resist. He roared through his own release. Shooting hot pleasure gushed from him and into her, emptying him of everything that he was… every hope and dream he had belonged to her. It went on and on, and when it was finally spent, he released her hands and collapsed by her side, just barely keeping his weight off her as his entire body went limp. It pulsed with waves of after-pleasure, and he quickly needed more of her touch. He gathered her close against him, her back to his chest, her breasts in his hands, his face in her hair.
“Arabella, my love, you are my treasure, my treasure, all mine, forever mine.” He was babbling. Delirious in her scent and the pleasure of her body.
She said nothing, just wrapped her arms around his, holding him.
His hands gloried in the fullness and weight of her breasts, but when her nipples teased quickly to life again under his attention, he knew he could give her even more pleasure than that quick, possessive taking he couldn’t resist. His body still needed a moment or two to resurrect, but he could easily give her an orgasm, or three, before he was ready to go again.
He kept one hand kneading the delicious softness of her breast while the other drifted down to her sex. Her sharp intake of breath was all the validation he needed that she was ready for more.
“Lucian, you don’t have to…”
He smiled the widest smile that had ever graced his face. Too bad she couldn’t see it with his nose buried deep in her hair.
“Oh, yes I do, my love,” he whispered with a laugh in his voice. “Again and again. Just try to stop me.”
But her legs parted to give his hand better access, and he knew that stopping wasn’t on either of their minds. Not tonight.
Her whimper as he stroked the slick heat of her sex was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. And he would have his way with her repeatedly tonight. He would indulge in her—in loving and possessing and pleasuring—until the dawn broke. And when she was sated beyond measure, when she was so weary from his lovemaking that she simply couldn’t take any more and drifted into a deep and satisfied sleep… then, and only then, would he be able to wrench himself away.
But he banished all thoughts of leaving as she moaned and bucked back against him.
For now—in this time and this space—there was only Arabella.
And his love for her.