Chapter seventeen #2
“Bedroom,” I said again, more firmly this time. “Five seconds. I promise.”
He made a sound of protest but unwrapped his legs from my waist. The loss of contact was almost painful. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway to my bedroom, barely registering the space as we stumbled through the doorway.
The bed was massive—California king-sized, probably excessive for one person, but right now I was grateful for the space. I pressed him down onto it, following him immediately, covering his body with mine.
“Better?” I asked, kissing along his collarbone.
“Much better.” His hands were in my hair again, guiding my mouth where he wanted it. “Now stop being careful with me.”
Something in me snapped at that. The control I’d been maintaining, the careful restraint—it all evaporated. I kissed him hard enough to bruise, let my hands roam freely over his body, mapping every inch of skin I’d been denying myself.
He arched into my touch, his hands pulling at my shoulders, his legs wrapping around my hips again. The sounds he was making were going to be permanently etched into my memory—breathless gasps and broken pleas and my name repeated like a prayer.
I reached for the nightstand drawer, fumbling for supplies I kept there more out of habit than actual use. Found what I needed and pulled back just enough to look at him.
He was wrecked. Hair messed from my hands, lips swollen from kissing, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes met mine, dark and wanting and absolutely certain.
“Still okay?” I asked, because I needed to hear it one more time.
“If you stop now, I’m going to lose my mind,” he said. “Theron. I need you.”
I dragged a pillow under his hips, prepared him carefully despite his protests that I was taking too long. Watched his face as I worked him open, cataloging every reaction, learning what made him gasp and what made him moan. By the time I finally pressed into him, we were both shaking.
“Oh god,” he breathed, his hands clutching at my shoulders. “Yes. More.”
I started to move, slowly at first, giving him time to adjust. But he was having none of it.
“Harder,” he demanded, his nails digging into my back. “I’m not going to break.”
I gave him what he wanted. Set a pace that was desperate and demanding, my hips snapping forward with enough force that the headboard hit the wall. He met me thrust for thrust, his body arching beneath mine, and the sounds he was making were going to destroy me.
“Theron,” he gasped, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me deeper. “Oh god, right there.”
I adjusted the angle slightly and was rewarded with a broken moan that went straight through me. My dragon was roaring with satisfaction, with possession, with the primal knowledge that this man beneath me was mine in every way that mattered.
Mine.
The word echoed through my head as I moved, as I watched him come apart beneath me.
His head thrown back, exposing the long line of his throat.
His muscles tensing and releasing with each thrust. The particular desperation in the way he was clutching at me, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.
“Look at me,” I commanded, and his eyes opened—dark and glazed and absolutely wrecked. “I want to see you when you come.”
“Close,” he panted. “I’m so close.”
I reached between us, wrapping my hand around him, and that was all it took.
He came with a cry that was my name and several profanities strung together, his whole body going rigid beneath me.
The sensation of him clenching around me pushed me over the edge, and I followed him into oblivion with a groan that came from somewhere deep in my chest.
For a long moment we just lay there, both of us breathing hard, our bodies still tangled together. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, could feel the fine tremors still running through him.
Eventually I pulled out carefully, disposing of the condom and using tissues on us both before collapsing back onto the bed beside him. He immediately curled into my side, his head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine.
“That was...” he started, then trailed off.
“Yeah,” I agreed, because I didn’t have words for it either.
We lay in comfortable silence for a while, my hand running idly up and down his spine. I could feel him starting to drift, the adrenaline and exertion of the day finally catching up with him.
“Stay,” I said quietly. “Tonight. Tomorrow. However long you want.”
“Okay,” he murmured against my chest. “But you’re going to have to tell me your secrets eventually.”
“I know.”
“And we’re going to have to figure out how to handle this at work.”
“I know that too.”
He tilted his head up to look at me, and despite the exhaustion in his eyes, there was something fierce there too. “I meant what I said. I’m not walking away from this. From you. Whatever complications come, we’ll figure them out together.”
The trust in those words made my chest tight. He had no idea what he was promising—no idea what being involved with me truly meant. But he was offering it anyway, and I found myself wanting to believe we could make this work.
“Together,” I agreed, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
He settled back against my chest with a contented sigh, and within minutes, his breathing had evened out into sleep. I lay there in the dark, holding him, trying to figure out how I was going to keep him safe from Odin Clark and whatever game he was playing.
Because Odin hadn’t just moved to Denver for business opportunities. He’d recognized me at that restaurant—I’d seen it in his eyes. And if he knew what I was, then he knew what dragonsteel ore was worth. Knew that forge dragons could find it.
The question was what he planned to do with that information.
I tightened my arms around Dante, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. I’d failed to protect Clara. I’d let my guard down, let myself believe the danger had passed, and she’d paid the ultimate price.
I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Whatever it took, whatever I had to do—I would keep Dante safe. Even if it meant facing down another dragon who wanted to use me.
Even if it meant losing everything I’d built here and walking away from my life, from the team.
He was worth it. This beautiful, stubborn, impossibly brave man who’d kissed me despite all the reasons he shouldn’t, was worth any risk.
I just hoped I could keep him alive long enough to tell him that.
“If I asked just one question, would you answer me? Not about the danger,” he qualified. I was quiet for a long moment. Could I? I was asking for a lot of trust and giving him nothing, and he’d trusted me with his body. I knew his heart wouldn’t be far behind.
“Yes,” I promised, my heart bouncing against my ribs.
He nodded and opened those gorgeous brown eyes.
“Theron, how old are you?”