Chapter 35
Chapter
Thirty-Five
They reformed inside Kraevyr Peak’s cave, the air faint with woodsmoke and cool stone.
The moment Ash’s backpack hit the ground, Race had her against the cave wall, his control snapping like a wire pulled too tight. His mouth crashed onto hers in a kiss that was nothing but primal need—hot, demanding, desperate.
Cold granite pushed into her back, but Ash barely registered anything except the tearing of fabric before her clothes were ripped away, shredded like paper. He left her utterly bare, his clothed body like a furnace surrounding her.
“Hungry, are you?” she rasped against his mouth, trying for sarcasm, even as her breath hitched when his hand slid between them, fumbling with the zipper of his jeans.
The only answer was a deep, animalistic sound vibrating from his chest. Through their bond, his need hit her like a tidal wave. His pupils had slitted, with a thin crimson ring around black—a predator’s gaze. They fixed solely on her.
Breathing hard, she grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt. He ripped it right down the middle and flung it aside. His mouth closed over her mate mark, sucking hard enough that desire roared through her veins like unchecked flames, turning her blood molten.
God! Ash moaned, clutching his back. Beneath her palms, scales rippled across his skin, his talons scraping her hips as he lifted her off her feet like she weighed nothing. “Race, claws—”
He growled, grabbed her wrists, and lifted her hands until they met the cold, heat-blackened metal bar jutting from the stone wall. The one she’d noticed her first time in the cave—once used by dragonkin for their daily lives, now repurposed in the most seductively primal way.
“Hold—” His voice was guttural, the command rough, dangerous.
Her heart hammered as her fingers curled around the bar. With his lower body, he pinned her against the granite surface, worn smooth by dragonfire, his eyes burning a perilous burgundy.
“Bossy bastard,” she gasped, even as her thighs clamped tighter around his hips, his scorching, jeans-covered length grinding against her folds. “Bloody hell, you’re burning up—”
A snarl ripped free from him, cutting her off. He yanked his cock out of his unzipped pants, and then he thrust into her in a single stroke. She cried out, her head snapping back against the wall, the bar groaning under her weight as he filled her—too big, stretching her.
“Christ!” A groan broke from her throat as he withdrew and slammed into her again, harder, faster, the rut fever driving him past all semblance of his usual finesse.
He kissed her again, and it wasn’t soft. It was teeth and tongue and sheer possession. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs as his hips moved, plundering into her, fucking her against the wall.
Pleasure surged, amplified by the bond between them, turning everything sharper, rawer. Every thrust poured his need into her veins, feeding back into him, the loop growing unbearable.
“Race,” she whimpered, not even sure if it was a plea or a curse. He angled his hips, his cock dragging against her clit with ruthless precision.
“Yes!” she cried, moving with him. His slit eyes were almost fully dragon now, and scales cut across his jaw and chest—smooth and heated against her skin. Her body quivered around him, her orgasm ripping so hard through her she nearly lost her grip on the bar.
But Race didn’t stop. His thrusts only grew rougher, hungrier, as if her climax had only sharpened his own frenzy.
Desperation clawed him, a dark, burning need searing into the marrow of him. She was so hot, so wet, so damned tight. Her body squeezed his cock as if it would drag him deeper, and he wanted more—fucking needed it.
Caught in the blazing fever, he was beyond words, functioning only on pure instinct as he drove into her with frantic urgency.
His hands gripped her lush ass, his gaze locked on where they were joined.
Each savage thrust shoved her up the wall, her nether lips stretching around his thick shaft as he buried himself to the hilt again and again.
She whimpered, her eyes glazed, her breasts jiggling with each slam, sweat slicking her skin. Then she was moving with him, desperate, chasing her climax once more. Instinct snarled through him, and he thumbed her clit, once, twice—
Her cry ripped through the cave as another orgasm erupted, and she shattered, her core gripping him, milking him mercilessly.
“Race,” she whimpered, her body trembling as she strained to hang onto the bar. I can’t hold on…I can’t.
Let go.
Ash dropped her hands from the rod, and her weight sank onto his cock as she grasped him around his neck, her mouth fastening on his. She kissed him with an equal savageness he fucking loved as he thrust up into her.
His balls tightened and release barreled down his spine—
He roared, emptying his searing cum into her, pulse after relentless pulse.
“Mine,” he ground out, voice feral, forehead resting against hers.
Her answering breath was ragged, equally fierce. “Always yours.”
He growled, still pumping into her.
She laughed breathlessly, trying to hold on. “Bloody hell, you are wild, sexy, and—ah!—truly insatiable.”
Insatiable didn’t even begin to touch it. Gradually, a strain of sanity returned. Only just. “Okay?” he rasped.
She huffed and nodded.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “No bedding…”
A memory surfaced through his feverish haze. Attor…something about a box. His gaze locked onto the huge chest against the back wall. “Hold on tight, vixen.”
The fever didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not with her delicious cunt still clenching his cock, wringing more from him, dragging his rut deeper into madness. Scales flowed across his chest, his arms—maybe his jaw—he didn’t know, his dragon was half-loosed, demanding more.
He needed the godsdamned bedding now.
Like a cat, Ash clung to Race with all her limbs, his cock still buried deep, and they weren’t even knotted.
“Much easier if you put me down, my feral dragon.”
He growled, the sound low and rough. “No.”
“Testy, aren’t you? Fine, then.” She shut her eyes as he stalked the cave with her wrapped around him, his dragon strength unrelenting as he snarled, tossing things with one hand. Then, quiet.
She cracked one eye open when he stopped and lowered them onto a pile of furs.
Her fingers brushed over the softness, and she blinked. “How the hell—?”
“Attor.” His rough voice scraped like gravel over her skin, and she shivered as his cock stirred again inside her.
“It’s just the beginning, vixen—”
He pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, then tugged her hips up before plunging back into her.
She gasped, her face pressing into the furs, the fullness of him stretching her all over again.
Then the feral bastard pushed her knees together, locking her around him, the sheer draggy tightness wringing her to madness. He retreated and surged back into her…
Outside, the wind picked up, dimming the daylight streaming through the cave’s mouth. Inside, there was nothing but the slap of skin on skin and Race’s raw, feral grunts, her rough gasps answering him—her dragon clearly lost to the rut-fire raging through his blood.
Thunder cracked overhead, echoing through the cave as Ash stirred to a dull morning the following day, rain splattering outside. She lay against Race’s chest, his burning skin a stark contrast to the storm-cooled air.
Her storm had followed them from Gildershard, undoubtedly drawn to the primal energy she radiated.
She sat up and reached for the waterskin, gulping deeply. As she set it down, Race’s growl ripped through the cave.
“I’m right here, you feral dragon—”
Aaand she was pulled flat under him again, his eyes midnight dark and edged with crimson, scales rippling down his chest. Apparently, his rut fever hadn’t eased. If anything, it burned hotter.
“Still not managing proper words, hm?” she teased breathlessly, then choked off as he drove into her, seating himself impossibly deep. His answer was a savage bite at her mate mark, sending white-hot pleasure spiraling through their bond.
“Ohhh,” she gasped, clutching at his shoulders. “Demanding, aren’t we?”
With a growl, he pounded into her, his fingers strumming her clit, wringing cries from her until she broke apart under him. Her orgasm tore through her, dragging his with it—
Except his body didn’t release her. His cock thickened at the base, swelling inside her, locking them together.
Ash’s eyes flew wide. “Oh. Ohhh, you’re knotting. Race!”
A snarl ripped free, her mate more beast than man. She rolled her eyes, rasping, “Then take it, you bloody beast. I’m not going anywhere…”
His dragon roared in triumph, rut-drunk and relentless. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the cave in jagged bursts.
With no idea how much time had passed, Ash flopped back onto the furs, her limbs like jelly, while Race braced above her. She hadn’t known a body could survive that many orgasms.
“Next time,” she panted, running a hand down his sweat-drenched back, “a bit of warning before you decide to bolt me up like a bloody padlock, hmm?”
His flushed face dropped, and he muttered something about instinct.
She only smirked. “Don’t look so guilty. I rather enjoyed it.”
He grunted, his expression a tiny bit remorseful, but the rest of him was full-on possessiveness.
Bloody lethal, impossible dragon—all mine.
He licked the sweat from her throat and murmured, “Guarantees a babe.”
Oh, boy. While she didn’t mind a baby someday… Thank you, Bregga, for the elixir.
The storm eased late the next afternoon as Race’s fever finally broke. Between bathroom breaks and hunger, they never left the furs.
Exhausted, drowsy, Ash lay against him amid shredded furs and scattered supplies. His chest still burned beneath her cheek, but the desperate edge had faded.
“You’re thinking proper thoughts again,” she murmured, feeling his mind settle through their bond. “That’s new.”