Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
CASSIA
His cabin was dark, lit only by moonlight filtering through the windows. Research materials covered every surface—maps and charts and data printouts that told the story of his investigation. But Cassia barely noticed any of it.
Aero set her down just inside the bedroom door, his hands trembling slightly as they cradled her face.
“I need you to understand something.” His voice was rough, barely controlled. “I’ve never—this is—” He stopped. Started again. “I don’t have a framework for this.”
“Good.” She tugged at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want a framework. I want you.”
“I mean, I might not—I haven’t—” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Intimacy isn’t something I’ve prioritized. In all my years.”
The admission made her pause. She looked up at him, really looked, and saw the vulnerability he was trying to hide. The fear that he wouldn’t be enough for her. That after all this time, all this waiting, he’d somehow disappoint.
Oh, she thought. Oh, you beautiful disaster.
“Aero.” She rose on her toes to brush a kiss against his jaw. “I don’t need experience. I don’t need technique. I just need you to stop thinking and start feeling.” Another kiss, lower, against the pulse point in his throat. “Can you do that?”
His hands tightened on her waist. “I can try.”
“Then try.”
She pulled her shirt over her head.
His reaction was immediate. His pupils dilated, his breath catching audibly. His dragon—she could feel it now, pressing against the boundary of his control—made a sound that was half growl, half purr.
Mate, she imagined it saying. Mine.
“Cassia.” Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. “You’re—”
“If you say magnificent again, I’m going to assume you only know one compliment.”
A surprised laugh escaped him. The tension broke, just slightly, and when he reached for her again, his hands were steadier.
“Beautiful,” he said instead, fingers tracing the line of her collarbone. “Devastating. Completely beyond anything I prepared for.”
“Better.” She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. “Now take this off before I decide to set it on fire.”
He complied, shrugging out of the fabric and letting it fall. Cassia’s mouth went dry.
She’d known he was built. Seen hints of it beneath his tailored clothes.
But seeing was different from touching, and touching was all she could think about now.
Lean muscle shifted beneath golden skin as he moved.
Faint scars traced patterns across his chest—old wounds, ancient battles, a map of survival written in skin.
Heat radiated from him, intense enough that she felt it from inches away.
She pressed her palm flat against his sternum, feeling the slow thud of his heart beneath her fingers. Then she let her hand drift lower. Over the ridges of his abdomen. Along the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his waistband.
His breath caught. “Cassia—”
“Shh.” She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled him closer. “My turn to explore.”
She kissed his chest. His collarbone. The scar that curved along his ribs. He made a sound low in his throat—half groan, half growl—and his hands fisted at his sides like he was fighting to keep them there.
“You can touch me,” she murmured against his skin. “I want you to.”
His hands found the clasp of her bra, fumbled briefly, then released it. When he cupped her breasts in his palms, she gasped into his mouth.
“Perfect,” he breathed, thumbs brushing over her nipples. “You’re perfect.”
She arched into his touch, wanting more. Wanting everything. “Less talking. More—”
He bent his head and took one nipple into his mouth.
The sensation shot through her like lightning. She cried out, her hands flying to his hair, holding him in place. He licked and sucked and teased until she was trembling, then switched to the other side and did it all over again.
“Bed,” she managed. “Now. Please.”
He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. The new position pressed her core against the hard length of him, and they both groaned at the contact.
“Dragon hearts beat differently,” he said against her throat as he carried her toward the bed. “Slower. More efficient.”
“It’s speeding up.”
“You’re pressed against me.” His voice dropped, rough with want. “Of course, it’s speeding up.”
He draped her over the mattress and followed her down, bracing himself above her. For a moment, he just looked at her—hair spread across his pillow, skin flushed, breathing hard.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m memorizing.” His voice was reverent. “In case I never get to see you like this again.”
“Don’t.” She pulled him down, kissing him hard. “Don’t think about tomorrow. Just be here. With me. Now.”
He kissed her back, deep and slow, his body settling over hers. She felt his weight, the heat, the barely leashed power. She wanted all of it.
The sex wasn’t what she expected.
She’d braced for chaos—their magic colliding, the cabin shaking, lightning striking close enough to shatter windows. Every time they’d kissed before, something had broken. Property damage was practically their love language.
But this was different.
When Aero settled his weight over her, when his mouth traced a path down her throat, the charge between them didn’t spark destructively.
“Oh,” she breathed, as his hands mapped her skin. “That’s—”
“I know.” His voice was wonder-struck. “I feel it too.”
Outside, the storm that had been building all day gentled. The wind eased. The lightning that had been flickering on the horizon faded into distant flashes.
Aero took his time. Centuries of patience applied to the singular goal of driving her out of her mind.
He learned her body like he was collecting data—cataloging every gasp, every shiver, every whispered plea.
His mouth found sensitive spots she hadn’t known existed.
His hands, those capable researcher’s hands, mapped territories no one had explored so thoroughly.
He worshipped her breasts until she was arching off the bed, then trailed lower, teeth grazing her ribs, tongue tracing patterns on her stomach. Every touch was deliberate. Purposeful.
“You’re studying me,” she accused breathlessly.
“Thoroughly.” His mouth found her hip bone, and she felt him smile against her skin. “Object to my methodology?”
“Ask me when I can think again.”
His laugh was low, satisfied. Then his mouth moved lower still.
He stripped away the last of her clothing with reverent hands, leaving her bare beneath him.
“Stunning,” he breathed.
“Aero—”
He lowered himself between her thighs, spreading her open with gentle hands. The first brush of his tongue against her clit made her cry out, her hips bucking off the bed.
“So sensitive,” he murmured against her slick flesh. “So responsive. I could do this for hours.”
He proceeded to prove it.
His tongue traced patterns that made her see stars—long, slow licks interspersed with focused pressure on her clit. When he slid two fingers inside her, curling them to find the spot that made her scream, she nearly came off the bed entirely.
“Oh gods—” She fisted her hands in the sheets, in his hair, anywhere she could reach. “Aero, I can’t—I’m going to—”
“Then let go.” He sucked her clit into his mouth, fingers pumping steadily. “Come for me, Cassia. I want to taste you.”
She shattered on his tongue with a ragged cry, her whole body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed through her. He didn’t stop—kept licking, sucking, working her through the orgasm until she was shaking and oversensitive and pushing weakly at his shoulders.
“Too much,” she gasped. “Oh gods, that was—you can’t possibly have learned that from flashcards.”
He kissed his way back up her body, a smug smile curving his lips. “I’m a researcher. I did extensive reading on the subject.”
“Remind me to thank whatever library you visited.” She pulled him down for a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. The intimacy of it sent a fresh pulse of heat through her veins. “But now I need more. I need you inside me.”
He groaned against her mouth. “Cassia—”
She reached between them, wrapping her hand around his hard length. He was thick and hot, silk over steel, and when she stroked him, his whole body shuddered.
“Now,” she demanded. “I need you now.”
The first slide into her pulled a moan from both of them. He stilled, forehead pressed to hers, breathing ragged.
“Okay?” The question came out rough.
“Perfect.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
He started slow—long, deep strokes that dragged against every sensitive nerve ending. She felt every inch of him, the delicious stretch, the fullness that bordered on overwhelming. His hips rolled against hers in a rhythm that was almost lazy, almost controlled.
“Faster,” she gasped, raking her nails down his back. “I won’t break.”
Something flickered in his gaze—hunger, barely leashed. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Show me what you’ve been holding back.”
His control snapped.
His hips snapped forward, driving into her with a force that made her cry out. Not pain—pleasure so intense, it stole her breath. He set a punishing pace, each thrust hitting a spot deep inside her that sent sparks shooting through her veins.
“Yes—” She arched beneath him, meeting him stroke for stroke. “Gods, yes, just like that—”
The wet sounds of their bodies joining filled the room, punctuated by her gasps and his groans. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, going deeper. She screamed.
“There?” His voice was rough, wrecked. “Right there?”
“Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”
He didn’t. He drove into that spot over and over, relentless and precise, while his thumb found her clit and circled with devastating accuracy.
His skin burned beneath her palms, dragon fire simmering just below the surface. She felt the beast in him straining against his control—not to hurt, but to claim. To mark. To make her irrevocably his.