Chapter 12 #2
She shook her head, her mouth brushing against his bare skin. “Castanegas are tough. We don’t cry.”
“I’ve already seen you cry, Vee. I don’t think any less of you for it. You lost your brother. You were almost killed.” Twice. “I’ll never tell.”
A cry gasped out of her, one last attempt to hold it back failing. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because no one comforted me when my father died.” They looked at him askance or whispered. Some gave him a sympathetic look while others acted as if he had the plague. “And I didn’t cry either. Because Vegas are tough. We don’t cry.”
She laughed, mixed with a sob, and lifted her face to his. Her eyes were glossy with tears. “Then you can cry, too.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need to cry.” He brushed a tear from her cheek.
“What do you need, Kade?”
He let his thumb linger against her cheek. You. In my arms, my life. Thank the gods he pulled the words back before they rolled out. “Right now, nothing.”
She buried her face again and cried, but nothing like she’d done earlier when her sobs had ripped out his heart. Her hand lay on his stomach, fingers flexing, nails scraping softly against his skin.
Something he’d never felt before opened inside him, an overwhelming need to protect her, take care of her. Give her warm comfort, hot love…everything.
He would have killed her. The obedient killing machine he was the day before would have come here, killed her when she was grieving, and then left. He would have gotten a “well done” at work and gone on to the next assignment. And this beautiful, caring woman would be dead.
She sat up. “I’m hurting you, aren’t I? I can hear your breathing coming in short puffs.”
The release of pressure was as painful as when she’d first leaned against him. “It’s okay,” he said, though his voice gave away his pain. “It’s just a broken rib or two.”
“Kade! Why didn’t you say something? Men! It’s fine,” she mimicked. “I’m just wonderful, but don’t mind my gasps of pain while I try to hide it.” With a growl, she stood and swiped at her tears. “Close your eyes.”
He did, and heard the swish of her clothing hit the floor.
The Catalyzation process was silent, but her heavy footfalls weren’t.
He opened his eyes, looking into her face.
The lines of her head were like a fine horse, regal and elegant; her scales glistened in the dim light.
Her wings, black with amethyst highlights, were tucked against her back.
Her eyes were cat-like, as were her graceful movements when she planted her hands on the edge of the couch and leaned down.
“I’m going to send my Breath into you,” she said, her voice low and gravelly.
“It’s the opposite of when a Dragon Breathes another’s power.
Instead of taking your essence, I’m sending my essence into you.
It’ll feel hot, and maybe weird, but it shouldn’t hurt.
I don’t know if it’ll work, but it’s worth trying. ”
He was staring at her, unable to do more than nod.
“Don’t worry, it won’t bond us like it does Dragon to Dragon. At least I don’t think so.”
Hell, he was already bonded to her in a way he couldn’t understand. “I didn’t know you could bond that way.”
“It’s not a romantic bond, but the healed Dragon will carry the healer’s essence inside them for a while. Close your eyes. Open to me and relax.”
Open to her.
He did, and felt the heat of her breath as she neared him.
Her lips were softer than he imagined, though he felt the graze of her fangs.
He opened his mouth, and her Breath flowed into him.
Not down his throat, but into him. Her magick rushed like water pooling around each injury.
He inhaled sharply at the sensation, breathing in the scent of her: like incense, musky and sweet all at once.
He heard her back away, and the magick continued to work its way through him until the heat subsided. When he finally opened his eyes, he found her human again in her silky pajamas. She sat back, her hands on her thighs, watching him.
“It worked?” she asked, looking hopeful.
He patted his ribs, feeling nothing but a slight bruise. “Yeah. Amazing. We have healing Deuces on the Guard staff. This felt different.” Because Violet cared. Being treated by someone who cared…the feeling of it tumbled through him. More sensual, definitely hotter. He sat up. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do, after all you’ve done for me.”
For a moment he thought she knew everything, and she was all right with the fact that he’d once been about to kill her. But no, she’d never be all right with that.
Their gazes lingered, and he felt that flash that had hit him at the station. She abruptly stood, running her hands down her pajamas as though to smooth them. “I should get to bed. Let you sleep and continue healing.”
He stood, too. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
They both stood motionless, neither making any move to leave.
Then he stepped forward and kissed her. She fell into him, her mouth engaging his.
Her hands slid down the sides of his body, around to his back, her fingers digging into him.
He rubbed the back of her neck, then moved down the length of her spine.
She shifted closer, making a sweet sound deep in her throat.
Crash. The rest of that numb shield fell away. Along with his convictions.
There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
He was as lost as she seemed to be. He needed to feel her all over, sliding his hand underneath the back of her top.
The action pulled it up in front too, and he felt the bottom swell of her breasts brush his chest. Holy hell but he wanted to feel every inch of her naked body against his.
From that first contact, the smell and taste of her had been burned into his memory.
She pressed closer against him, and her breasts grazed his skin. He pulled her top up, and she lifted her arms in perfect unison. The scrap of silky material fell to the floor.
“Amazing,” he uttered on a whisper, trailing his fingers over her curves and between her exquisite breasts. When her breath caught, he cupped them. Firm, yet soft, a perfect fit.
She tilted her head back, which pushed her breasts more fully into his hands.
Suddenly feeling her wasn’t enough. He needed to taste her, and so he kissed her, sucking on her tongue, exploring her mouth.
Then he tasted every inch of her from her chin down her throat, tracing the edges of the hollow at the base.
She tasted of clean female and the faint tang of soap. He wanted to taste more of her.
She exhaled in pleasure, her fingers moving through his hair, tugging it like she couldn’t pull him close enough. His body throbbed with want, making his jeans uncomfortably tight. He wanted—needed—all of her. Tendrils of magick crackled over his skin and through his body.
What the hell?
He’d never felt anything like that before.
There was a lot that he’d never experienced before meeting Violet.
Her Dragon was heating up, too, all around her waist where he now held her.
Its essence was now in him. He felt it connect to his own magick, twisting together the way magick vines could wrap all around you.
She must have felt it, too, because her hand went to her tattoo.
Her Dragon stretched sensually, its eyes afire like sparkling amethysts.
“It’s not supposed to want a Deuce,” she whispered, surprise in her voice.
“Does it want a Deuce?”
She met his gaze with a grin. “Very much.”
He traced his finger lightly over her tattoo, feeling the energy it exuded. He knew enough about Dragon essence to gain an advantage in battle. He knew nothing about how it felt to be Dragon. “Do you want a Deuce?”
Her gaze held his. “Very, very much.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. He was disciplined. Strong. But not with Violet. “Something about you pulls at me, tears away my resistance.” His voice was raw. “You tug at my wild side, the part of me I buried long ago.”
“Is that the part you forgot was inside you, the ache that never went away?”
He brushed her hair from her face, his thumb grazing her cheek. “I forgot until you. Every time I’m close to you, that side of me takes over. And right now, more than ever, I need to keep my head straight. We shouldn’t do this.”
* * *
The mist in Kade’s eyes swirled something fierce, belying his directive.
Violet felt his words in her body. The ache in them, the wanting.
“You’re trying to be Vega-like, and I get that.
Honor. Discipline,” she said. “And there are sound, logical reasons for not going further. But right now, I need your arms wrapped around me so I feel safe for the first time since Arlo’s death.
I need your body pressed up against mine so I can pull your heat and strength into me.
And what I need, really need, is the hot kind of comfort that only you can give me. Only you.”
He hesitated for a moment, and then reached for her on a groan. His mouth found hers, his hands cradling her face. “Why are you making it so hard for me to be good?”
He wanted her. She didn’t want to think about all the differences between them, didn’t want to think about tomorrow or what consequences it might bring.
She wanted him, too, and she wasn’t going to let him suffer.
Remembering how Kade had told her his fantasies, how he’d responded to her when he’d been blindfolded, made her shed her own inhibitions.
She gave a tug on his pants. “Take these off, Kade. That’s an order. ”
Surprise sparked in his eyes, and he lifted his face to the ceiling. “Oh, no. You’re really killing me here, Violet.”
“No backtalk.”
He pulled his gaze back to hers, both agony and arousal on his expression. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Faster.”
“Anything you say, ma’am.” Now it was only arousal burning in his eyes. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing them down to the floor and stepping out of them.