Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
His lips met mine, and once more, that magic that happened when we touched occurred. Like someone lit a match, igniting my passion, hypersensitizing my flesh, turning off my brain before it could ask, should I do this?
Yes, I should, and, barring interruptions, we were in the right place for it to happen.
Just me and Alistair in a great big bed, and this time, the kiss didn’t stop.
We kissed, our mouths moving and sliding, tasting and caressing. Our pants hot and mixed. He held me close, and while I knew my heart raced, it delighted to feel the fast thump of his own inside his chest. How glorious that he seemed just as excited.
He rolled me onto my back, and his body partially covered mine as we continued to embrace, his hand lightly stroking up and down my torso over the shirt at first, then under, tracing my skin.
While I’d not worn it long, I suddenly couldn’t wait to remove the shirt he’d let me borrow.
My fingers grasped the hem, and soon as he realized my intent, the fabric went flying, leaving my upper body bared to his view.
“Mmm,” he hummed, his gaze on my breasts. “Perfectly ripe peaches.”
I’d never been compared to fruit before. “I assume that’s a good thing?” Given my self-esteem issues, I had to ask.
“I love peaches,” he purred before he proceeded to show me. He devoured me. I mean, like, his mouth literally latched on and sucked and licked. All the while, he hummed in pleasure, whereas I trembled with building need.
When he finished feasting on my breasts, he inched down my body, kissing his way over my rounded belly, spending a moment nuzzling my pubes. Unlike the modern trend women followed these days, I didn’t shave it bare, just trimmed it. He didn’t seem to mind.
He kissed my thighs, and as if it were a secret password, they parted for him, revealing my sex to his gaze.
Not that he stared for long. He buried his face between my legs, and I shivered as his hot breath fluttered against my moist flesh.
A moan escaped me at the first stroke of his tongue. A lick that had my hips arching.
He lapped at me, parting my folds, teasing the opening to my sex, tasting me and groaning in enjoyment. When he concentrated on my clit, I just about hit the ceiling, I bucked so hard. He pinned me down, holding me with ease as he teased my sensitive button, making me tighten in anticipation.
An anticipation that turned into a climax when he thrust two fingers into me and pumped them.
It pushed me over the edge, and I fisted the sheets as I writhed and squirmed because he kept going. He continued to tease my clit and thrust those fingers until I moaned and tightened again.
When he stopped, it was only that he might grip my buttocks and lift me, positioning me for the tip of his cock. It penetrated, thick, hard, and oh so wanted.
He sheathed the steel length of his shaft in my still trembling sex, and I couldn’t help but tighten. I squeezed hard and was met with a pulse that also came with a strangled groan. “Damn, Davina.”
My gaze met his. Locked. And while it should have felt strange—I mean I’d never looked someone in the eye before during sex—with him? I’d never been more riveted. Never felt more connected.
We kept staring at one another as he began to thrust in and out. Slowly at first. It was almost torture the way he teased. I grabbed at him, digging my fingers into his flanks and urging him to move faster. Deeper.
I wanted that jolt of pleasure when he hit my sweet inner spot.
Wanted the friction of his thick cock stretching me.
As his tempo increased, my body tightened, readied itself in anticipation.
I couldn’t have said who came first. All I knew was when my orgasm hit, the muscles of my sex spasmed at the same time as his cock pulsed, a throbbing that injected heat into me.
Our gazes remained locked the whole time, and I swear it was the reason the climax lasted so blissfully long. Long enough we were left panting and shaken when it finally subsided.
For once, I had nothing to say, and it apparently bothered him, for he whispered, “Are you okay?” He’d collapsed by my side, but his leg lay draped over me and his hand rested on my belly.
“Just recovering my senses,” I answered with a giggle. “That was intense.”
“In a good way?”
Wait, did my old dragon sound worried? I rolled so I could see his face and so he could notice my curved lips. “That was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had. Although maybe that’s only because it’s been a while for me. I’m thinking we might need a second round to make sure it wasn’t an anomaly.”
It wasn’t. I swear I came even harder the second time. I then experienced something new. Sleeping spooned against a man. My butt fit the curve of his groin perfectly. His hand cupped my breast possessively. And I fell asleep smiling.
When I woke mid-morning, I found myself alone in bed, the spot beside me empty.
Please don’t tell me I’d dreamed last night’s interlude?
A visit to the washroom, where I rinsed sticky residue from between my thighs and the mirror showing puffy, well-kissed lips, meant I’d not imagined it.
I couldn’t help but grin because, damn, the sex had been epic.
I floated downstairs and headed into the kitchen, where I found Alistair cooking.
“Good morning,” I chirped.
No reply.
Morning-after regret? It wouldn’t surprise me with Mr. Grumpy, but I didn’t let it daunt me. He’d seduced me once, and I would wager he’d do it again.
“Good morning, Davina,” Oliver stated, entering the kitchen. “I hope you managed to sleep after last night’s mishap.”
“I did. Alistair was kind enough to help me relax.” I almost giggled when the man stiffened.
“The clothing I ordered last night should be arriving shortly,” Oliver announced, heading for the coffee pot.
“Thank you.”
“What about a car to reach the loch?” Alistair turned from the stove with a plate stacked high with pancakes. He placed it beside a covered dish that contained back bacon and another holding a mound of crispy potatoes.
“You can borrow the BMW. Scratch it, though, and I’ll be billing you,” Oliver warned.
“Are you coming with us?” I asked as I heaped some food onto my plate. I had quite the appetite this morning.
“Probably better I don’t, as I am quite miffed with Nessie. I wouldn’t want to say anything that might set her off.”
“Nessie won’t try anything with me present,” Alistair stated as he sat down across from me, still not once glancing in my direction. He tried so hard to ignore me, and I wasn’t having it.
Let’s see if he can ignore this. I reached my foot under the table and ran my toes along his calf.
His whole body jerked, and he finally looked at me with an expression that smoldered.
I winked and blew a kiss.
He uttered a low growl as he stood from the table and stalked off.
“Someone’s in a mood,” Oliver remarked.
“I do believe he might be having post-coital regret.” I didn’t hide what happened between us.
Oliver snorted. “Having known him longer, I’m going to say that’s not regret but rather possessive anxiety.”
“Meaning what?” I asked, spearing a potato.
“For one, he’s rethinking his decision to bring you to Nessie because he is concerned for your well-being. Two, he likely thought bedding you would cure his attraction, and has since realized it’s only made it worse. Which leads to problem number three, you’re human.”
“And?”
“And humans have short life spans in comparison to dragons. He wants to not care for you, wants to keep his emotional distance, but can’t, and that angers him because he knows you’ll die and he’ll have to live on.”
I pursed my lips. “I’m not so sure you’re right. He stated numerous times dragons don’t feel emotions.”
“He lies. Alistair might claim to not care, but he does, hence why he keeps himself apart from others.”
“I can understand him not wanting to deal with loss, but doesn’t he realize by isolating himself, he also denies himself the chance for joy?”
Oliver shrugged. “Never claimed it made sense.”
“I’m going to have a chat with him.”
“Good luck. He’s stubborn.”
He most certainly was, but I wouldn’t let that scare me away. I checked my bedroom first, then his. The bathroom door was closed, and I could hear water running.
To the bold came the rewards. I stripped and entered the steamy chamber.
“Davina? Is something wrong?” Alistair immediately stuck his head past the curtain, and his eyes widened. “What are you doing?
“Turning your frown upside down. Move aside, I’m coming in.”
“Listen, Davina, last night was—”
“Fun. So don’t bother lying. And don’t even try to say it was only a one-time thing. Your body says otherwise.” My gaze dipped to his erection poking at the shower curtain.
“We need to be focused on our meeting with Nessie, not frolicking.”
“I agree on the focused part, but how am I supposed to do that when all I want is to feel you inside me?”
He groaned. “Don’t say that. You don’t want me.”
“Pretty sure I do, and that the feeling is mutual. Now move aside and share that shower.”
Rather than argue, he made space for me in the shower-tub combo.
“You do realize this can’t be anything more than sex.”
I arched a brow. “Who said I wanted anything other than your body?”
Then, before he could keep saying nonsense, I crouched and put my mouth on his cock.