Chapter 9 Bella
BELLA
The mountains don’t care about my legs, my lungs, or my temper.
Loose shale slides under every step like ball bearings.
My boots fill with grit until it feels like walking on knives.
The air tastes like rust and burnt ozone, every breath scraping my throat raw.
And when the wind shifts, it brings with it the hiss of irradiated sand—tiny, stinging flechettes of glass that chew at my skin.
I hunch my shoulders against it, cursing as another gust slaps me across the face. “You’re a sadist, you know that?” I bark at the massive silhouette plowing ahead of me. “Total mountain fetish. Bet you’re loving this.”
Kage doesn’t even look back. Just grunts, low and steady, carrying most of the supplies without a word like the incline doesn’t exist.
I slip, shale sliding out from under my heel. “Shit!” My palms scrape stone as I catch myself. I glare at his broad back, all black scales and silver streaks. “Oh yeah, sure, just keep walking. Don’t mind me. I’ll die dramatically back here.”
Still nothing. Just a faint twitch of his neck frills.
I scramble up after him, muttering, “Sadist. Total sadist. Probably gets off on watching humans eat dirt.”
His voice rumbles back through the wind. “If you die dramatically, it will be very inconvenient.”
My head snaps up. “Oh my god, did you just make a joke?”
He glances over his shoulder, silver eyes catching the pale light. “No.”
I roll my eyes and keep trudging. My calves are on fire, my lips taste like copper from biting them to keep going, and every time I look up, the path just gets steeper. He moves like the incline is nothing, his massive frame balanced and sure. I hate him for it. I envy him for it.
And gods help me, I keep watching him anyway.
By the time night creeps down the slopes, the wind’s turned mean, cutting across the path like a blade. Kage ducks into a narrow cave opening half-hidden by a slab of rock, and I follow, grateful to get out of the stinging sand.
Inside, it’s cramped and dark, smelling of cold stone and old minerals.
My boots crunch over what used to be a supply cache—broken crates, a cracked helmet.
Kage sets down the packs and begins rigging a heater with salvaged batteries.
His claws move deftly, sparks flicking into the dim like fireflies.
I flop down against the wall, sliding my back along cool stone. “Wow,” I pant, wiping grit from my face. “You really know how to show a girl a good time. Hiking up a death mountain and crashing in a hole in the wall. So romantic.”
Kage’s neck frills flare, a ripple of silver and black. “Romantic?”
I snort. “Yeah, you know, candlelight dinners, bearskin rugs, cave ambiance. Super hot.”
He blinks at me, head tilted like a puzzled dog. “This is a romantic cave?”
I burst out laughing before I can stop myself. It bubbles up from somewhere deep, rusty and wild, startling even me. The sound echoes off the cave walls, bouncing back twice as loud.
Kage stares, then the corner of his mouth does something I’ve never seen—pulls up, just a little. A smirk. He gets it.
“Ah,” he rumbles, still working on the heater. “Human sarcasm.”
“Finally!” I throw my hands up. “He’s learning!”
Dinner is quiet. Too quiet. The heater hums low, its glow casting orange light across jagged rock. The ration packs taste like chalk and grease, but after the climb, I don’t even care.
Kage sits across from me, his massive frame taking up half the space. He eats slow, deliberate, every motion careful like he’s aware of how huge he is. He’s always aware, I’m realizing—of his space, his weight, his presence. He’s so… present.
I watch him without meaning to. The way the light runs along his scales. The subtle flex of muscle when he shifts. The way his eyes flick to mine, then away, like he feels me watching.
My body reacts before my brain can stop it. My pulse speeds. My face feels hot, though the cave is freezing. Maybe it’s trauma. Maybe it’s the bond. Maybe it’s just that he’s—goddammit—hot as hell for a massive lizard man.
I reach to hand him another ration bar. Our fingers brush. Skin to scale.
Electricity snaps between us like a live wire. It’s not subtle this time. It’s a jolt, a heat that travels up my arm and into my chest until my breath hitches.
I don’t pull away.
Neither does he.
For a second, we’re just staring at each other across the dim cave, heat and cold tangled in the air. My heart slams so hard I feel it in my fingertips.
Then I lean in.
And this time, the kiss happens.
It’s rough, raw, heat and hunger crashing together. He kisses like he’s starving, claws braced against the stone so he doesn’t crush me. I kiss back like I’m dying, hands curling against his scaled chest. The taste of ash and iron and something wild floods my mouth.
He growls low in his throat, a sound that feels like it starts in the stone beneath us and travels up my spine. I moan into his mouth, hips shifting against his instinctively. I want more. I need more.
“Bella,” he rumbles, pulling back just enough to look at me. His blood-red eyes glow in the dark like coals. “You are… soft. Small.”
“And you’re huge,” I gasp, breathless. “Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t.
Kage surges forward, backing me into the stone wall of the cave with terrifying gentleness, like he knows exactly how much force I can take. His clawed hand cradles my head as his mouth crashes into mine again, tongue tasting, taking. The heat between us is unbearable.
Clothes become a problem. My jacket is gone before I know it. His claws shred through my shirt like tissue paper. I gasp when cold air hits my skin—and then gasp louder when his massive hand cups my breast, scaled palm rough, claws careful.
“You are… mine,” he growls, possessive.
“You better make that mean something,” I pant, tugging at the belt around his hips. “Or I’m going to have a very big problem with how hot this is.”
He huffs a laugh. Or maybe it’s a growl. Doesn’t matter.
Because then he’s kissing down my throat, teeth grazing the skin just enough to make me gasp. His tongue is hot, flicking across my collarbone, my breast, and then he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks.
I cry out. My legs go weak. His arms catch me before I fall.
He lowers us to the sleeping bags in one smooth motion. I’m beneath him, pinned but not trapped, his body radiating heat like a living furnace. His scales gleam in the faint light, silver patterns shifting with his breath. He’s massive, terrifying—and utterly, devastatingly beautiful.
I reach between us and find the thick ridge of his cock straining against his pants. My fingers curl around it, feeling the heat, the weight, the alien shape that’s still somehow perfect.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “You’re—Kage, you’re huge.”
He growls again, hips thrusting into my hand. “You do not fear me.”
“I should,” I whisper, stroking him slowly. “But I don’t. I want you.”
He tears his pants off. His cock springs free—long, ridged, dark with a gleaming tip and faint silver markings like the rest of his body. It throbs in my grip.
He pushes my leggings down, claws so precise I barely feel the fabric shred.
Then he sees my pussy.
And he freezes.
“You are wet,” he rumbles, voice hoarse.
“No shit,” I whisper, cheeks flaming. “Are you going to stare or—”
He lowers his head and licks me.
I scream.
His tongue is hot, wide, textured in a way that makes me cry out again as it drags through my folds, curling over my clit. He licks me like he’s starving, hands gripping my thighs to keep me from squirming away.
I come fast, too fast, body shuddering, eyes rolling back.
He growls his approval, then licks me again, slower this time, savoring every tremble.
“Kage—please—” I gasp, shaking.
He moves over me, lines himself up, and pauses.
“I will not break you,” he promises, voice a low snarl of restraint.
“Try,” I whisper.
He pushes inside.
I gasp, the stretch overwhelming. He goes slow—agonizingly, beautifully slow—until he’s buried inside me. His cock fills me like nothing ever has, my pussy clenching around him like I was made for this.
We both shudder.
He stays still for a moment, breathing hard, letting me adjust. His forehead presses to mine.
“You are mine,” he whispers.
“Yours,” I breathe back.
Then he moves.
Every thrust is deep, deliberate, dragging pleasure through me like a rising wave. I wrap my legs around his waist, my nails scratching at his scales. He snarls, hips driving faster, rougher, our bodies slamming together in perfect sync.
My pussy grips him tighter with every stroke. His ridges hit all the right places. He feels like fire inside me, like war and safety and everything I didn’t know I needed.
“Bella,” he growls, voice breaking. “You are… everything.”
“Fuck me harder,” I moan. “I want all of you.”
He gives it to me.
The cave echoes with our cries, our gasps, the wet slap of skin on skin. We move together like we’ve done this a thousand times. Like we were born for this moment.
My orgasm hits me like lightning. I scream his name, my pussy spasming around him. He thrusts once more, twice—and then roars, spilling inside me, his cock pulsing with heat and completion.
He holds me through it, shaking.
We collapse into the sleeping bags, tangled and breathless. His arms wrap around me, claws splayed protectively over my hip.
“I claimed you,” he says finally, voice soft.
I kiss his jaw. “Good. You’re mine too.”
And this time, I’m not scared of that.