Chapter 19 #2
“Thanks,” I try to say, but he cuts off the word with another kiss. This one deeper, hungrier. He shifts into shadow and reforms in the tub, leaving his clothes in a pile near my feet.
“No fair. I still have to do this the old-fashioned way,” I say, stripping off my jacket and going to work on my corset.
“You’re a witch with a dragon’s magic, little bird. If you’re struggling with your ties, just burn them off.”
I gasp in feigned indignation, grasping at my nonexistent pearls. “And wreck one of Ariadne’s masterpieces? Not on your life.” I wrestle it off and toss it all over a nearby chair. He growls as I straddle his hips and sink slowly into the hot water. “Mmmm.”
He eases me around so that my back is to his front and reaches for the soap, lathering it between his hands.
“One day, you will have more dresses than you can count, designed by Ariadne herself when she isn’t half starved and lusting for your blood.
I swear it. Closets of shoes and jewelry.
” I take a deep breath and sag against him.
The truth is, I care very little about any of that.
He seems to notice my lack of enthusiasm because he pauses with a soapy hand on my shoulder.
“An art studio, like the one in Harcourt Manor. A place you can create, with a balcony so you can look out on the beauty of your kingdom.”
“Now you’re talking,” I say breathlessly.
“We’ll rehabilitate my father’s dusty library. You can fill a section with books from your world.”
“An art studio and a library. Now I think you just want to get laid.”
He strokes over my breast and my belly in a slow, languid way, his lips finding the back of my ear. “Oh, little bird, if you only knew how much I want you, every minute of every day. What I would do to make you happy.”
He lathers my back, my arms, my neck. The hot water warms me to the core, and the slick glide of his hands makes everywhere we touch sensual, slippery, weightless.
He slides them along my sides, over the peaks of my breasts, the flat of my stomach, the mounds of my ass.
His lips brush against my ear, and I hear him inhale as his palms slide along my inner thighs, spreading my legs.
“You’re not tired of me yet?” I chide. “My incessant challenging of your notions of safety and security hasn’t pushed you over the edge?”
His chest rumbles with his laugh. “Saving your life is a hobby I just can’t quit.”
He exhales as he courses his hand down my side to my hip and then tucks it between my legs.
His fingers just barely brush my clit before traveling up again, kindling a deep ache low within me.
Slow, even strokes. They might be soothing if their friction weren’t driving me mad.
He brushes between my legs again, and I lift my hips, chasing the sensation and sending a wave sloshing against the side of the tub.
His low, teasing chuckle fills my ear. “Needy little bird. I hope all this pent-up sexual desire isn’t thanks to a certain Rivertoad king?” He exposes that last part as if it’s a festering wound he needs cleaned out.
I grab his wrist. “No. If I’d wanted to stay, I would have stayed.
You were right. The Rivertoads are manipulative.
The second Jaqual knew I was the dragon, he wanted me for himself.
He wants to rule from Stygarde’s throne.
If I’d have stayed with him on his terms, he’d have effectively tamed me and fulfilled the prophecy.
You belong on that throne, Damien. No way was I going to fall for that crap. ”
He circles my waist with his arm and pulls me close. His hard length presses against my bottom, but he stills his hands. “I know you said it could wait, but if it is not a desire to stay with Jaqual, what has been bothering you since we left the caravan?”
I shift so that he can see my face. Has he thought my silence was about Jaqual this entire time? “Not since we left. Since we slept. I do have something to talk to you about, but it’s not Jaqual.”
He trails his wet fingers over my neck and shoulder. “What is it, then?”
“Maeve used the Hitch and Cast spell to reach me last night in my dreams. She’s marrying Ren, and she wants me at the wedding. It’s in one week.”
“You should go, but I can’t go with you. Not now. Not when there’s so much to be done.”
I nod. “I thought you’d feel that way, but there’s something else. When I told her we need men, she suggested something I hadn’t thought of before, something I think we should try.”
“And that is?”
“What if we asked Morpheus and Cassius for their help?”
Damien frowns. “Morpheus won’t come. He’s sworn his allegiance to the triune.”
“You don’t know that. He might change his mind when he realizes his mother and father are in danger. I have to ask.”
“Cassius will want to help,” Damien concedes. “But he answers to his coven masters. If Sabrina and Tobias refuse, he is bound.”
I lick my lips, almost afraid to say this next part aloud. “I plan to ask Sabrina and Tobias directly for military support, not just for Cassius himself but some of his men. If I could bring a vampire army through the key to fight for us—”
“Is that possible?” he asks in a low voice, as if the prospect had never occurred to him. He rinses the soap from my back with water from his cupped hand and skims his fingers over my tattoo, my sigil, the physical reminder of my power.
“I’m not sure if the coven master, Sabrina, will agree to it, but I believe I am capable of it.
The key symbol would have to be the biggest I’ve ever activated, and I’d have to hold it open while everyone came through.
I’m strong enough, though. Stronger than I’ve ever been.
If she agrees to send her warriors, I will do what it takes to bring them here. ”
He rinses the other side of me, smoothing the last of the suds off my skin.
“You don’t like the idea,” I say.
“I like it far better than you staying with Jaqual in exchange for his mercenaries.”
“So then, you’re supportive of the idea. When I travel to Earth for this wedding, I will visit with Morpheus and Cassius and ask them for help.”
“Yes,” he finally says. “Please be careful, my little dragon. Your world is a long way away, and I don’t think I can do what I must do here without you.”
I take his face in my wet hands. “You won’t have to. A few days. That’s all.”
A low rumble begins in his chest, and his lids lower over his diamond stare. He grips my lower jaw. “If we must spend time apart, I’m going to need a dose of you to hold me over, little bird.”
I lift one corner of my smile off my fangs. My voice is a low croon as I say, “Then take your medicine, mate.”
He rises to sit on the edge of the tub, his massive erection jutting between us. The way he’s looking at me, hungry, wanting, with that soul-deep need I can feel down the bond, I know what he wants.
In our relationship, most of the time, he’s felt like the predator and I, the prey.
Not long ago, he even fed on me. But here, now, he’s flipped the script.
He wants me in control. And I think I understand why.
With everything that’s happened, with his jealousy of Jaqual so fresh in his mind, he wants to feel how much I want him.
He wants to experience the full force of my desire.
Goddess, if that’s what he needs, I will give it to him.
I rise onto my knees and grip his thighs, pulling myself closer.
The water only comes up to my belly button, and droplets bead off my peaked breasts.
Damien’s gaze drifts over the slope of my neck, the curve of each of my breasts, my torso, and the surface of the water, where the rest of me is lost beneath the refraction of light. Then his gaze rises again to my mouth.
The rumble of his purr grows louder, and the swollen head of his dick weeps for me.
I lean over and run the flat of my tongue along the underside of his shaft and swirl it over the sensitive tip.
The taste of him is pure ecstasy. Our mating means that we are each other’s special recipe, a match made by the goddess.
The salty sweetness of him only makes me want more.
He curses under his breath and grips the side of the tub.
I’m reminded of the first time I did this, in the kitchen of Harcourt Manor, when it was the sides of the chair he was gripping.
Different place. Different circumstances.
But he feels just as vulnerable. I suck his cock to the back of my throat, taking him as deep as I dare.
His moan is all the encouragement I need. I start to move, drawing back slowly before taking him in again. I hollow my cheeks and suck hard, bringing my lips almost to the tip, swirling my tongue, before driving him to the back of my throat again.
The growl that tears from him is more animal than shade.
He releases his hold on the tub and sinks his wet fingers into the back of my head, tangling them in my red curls.
I raise my eyes to meet his as he begins to match my movements, thrusting to the back of my throat until my eyes water from the intensity.
I don’t let up. I move faster, alternating suction with licks and swirls.
I cup the heavy weights at the base of his shaft, rolling them in my palm.
His balls tighten and he roars. Hot jets hit the back of my throat, and I swallow him down, my body reacting almost to the point of orgasm from the experience of feeling him come. This is Damien, though. Once he’s finished, he’s far from done.
He sweeps me from the water, spins me around, and braces my hands against the wall behind the tub.
He hooks his fingers and lifts one of my knees, bracing my foot on the ledge.
Before I can draw my next breath, he’s inside me from behind and reaching around my hips to circle my clit with his strong, capable fingers.
Our joining isn’t gentle. His thrusts come full force, his bigger body wrapping around me, driving deep and fast as his arm holds me tight against him and his fingers rub with exacting circles of pressure.
I shatter into a million falling stars. Or, should I say, falling shadows? I feel myself come apart, something I’ve been trying and failing to do for months. And then just as naturally, just as organically, I come back together.
“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear, and as always, the praise sends a jolt through me I can’t explain. My knees tremble, and he holds me there, our hearts beating in unison.
After several minutes, when I’ve caught my breath, I turn in his arms.
“Did I…break into shadow?” I ask, still unable to believe it.
“Yes,” he says. “Spectacularly.”
“Why can I do it now and not when I want to?”
He shrugs. “Strong emotions make it easier. You can do it. You just need practice and motivation.”
My mouth opens wide on a sharp yawn. “Damn. I’m not practicing anything tonight. It feels like my battery is on empty.”
“Shifting does that to you in the beginning. Here, let me help you.” He cleans me up and then sweeps me into his arms to carry me to the bed. I’m still a little damp when he slides us between the crisp white sheets. I’m asleep the second my head hits the pillow.