by Zoe Chant
Harper couldn't take her eyes off of him. She could see it, a little, how there was a gauntness to him that looked wrong. He was meant to be at least a little bulkier, but there was no doubt as to the strength that he possessed, his body lithe and muscular.
“You're beautiful,” she whispered, and she was rewarded with a brief smile, bright as a comet, before he leaned down to untie his shoes and undo his jeans.
She followed the elegant line of his arm, slightly surprised to see it entirely unmarked. Given the way he had reacted while unconscious and the way he had flinched upon waking up, she would have thought to see some scarring, perhaps some very extensive scarring. Instead his skin was smooth and beautiful, and she stopped thinking of scars at all as he came back to bed.
This time, he didn't ask permission as he stripped her tank top over her head. She was soft everywhere he was hard, and for a moment, she wanted to cross her arms over her small breasts or maybe her belly. She was given no time to do so, and instead, Morgan dropped his mouth to the swell of her breasts as as he pulled her partially up to undo her bra. The pleasure of his mouth made her whimper, but when she felt him rubbing the light marks that her bra left on her back and shoulders, she laughed.
“You know your way around a bra,” she teased. He gave her a brilliant smile, but did not respond.
She could have made a comment that he knew his way around what was under a bra as well, but that would probably be ungrateful given how good he was making her feel. His lips caressed the curves of her breasts, his mouth closing over a nipple with such aching care that she gasped with pleasure.
A few times, Harper tried to reach for Morgan, to give him some of the pleasure that he was offering her, but he only returned her hands to her sides.
“Do you not like –“
“I like everything about you,” he said softly. “Just…I want you right now.”
The need and reverence in his voice sent a shudder through her, and she nodded, going still and letting her eyes drift shut. There was something deep inside her that told her that it was all right, that she could trust him. No harm could ever befall her when she was with him. In another time, it might have shocked her, but right now, laid bare and open to the sweet warmth of Morgan's body, she could sense the truth of it.
There was a kind of relentless restless energy to Morgan as he touched her body, his mouth exploring her as eagerly as his hands did. At some point, she gave up the fight to lie still. Her hands came up to tangle in his dark hair, closing and drawing him even closer.
“You are so beautiful,” Morgan murmured against her skin. “So very beautiful, made for me.”
“Were you made for me?” she breathed. She intended it to be a joke, something to make him laugh, but the sound he made was somewhere between a purr and a growl.
“Made for you before I was born,” he assured her, and in that moment of truth and vulnerability, she believed it. She believed him, and a part of her that she had never even known was closed, opened.
Harper moaned as Morgan's hands grew bolder, as he tugged at the waistband of her skirt and started to draw it down her hips, taking her underwear with it. He was slow and careful, but there was a kind of restrained urgency to him that set her on fire. He wanted this at least as much as she did, but he was like a hurricane that she held at bay with only an upraised hand.
She squirmed as he kissed her round thighs, nibbling his way from hip to knee and then tonguing the sensitive place behind her knees to make her laugh.
“It's good,” she murmured. “You're so good, honey...”
The purring growl was back, and now he shifted even closer to her, gathering her up so that one muscular arm pillowed her head and the other roved her body with hungry need. He nuzzled her ear, sending shivers through her, and now she could feel the press of his hard cock against her hip.
“Come on,” she murmured, but he only nipped at her earlobe.
“Just a little more,” he whispered. “Just let me have a little more of you before I lose myself.”
She started to ask him what he meant, but then his hand urged her legs apart, closing on the soft flesh there with a possessive tenderness that made her heart race. Her hand came up to wrap urgently around his wrist, and he stopped.
“No?”
“I need more,” she said, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Please.”
Without a word, he slid his fingers down along her slit, parting her gently bit by bit. They were both shaking with need now, but he refused to hurry, no matter how much she told him she wanted it, wanted him. His fingers dipped down to her warm entrance, encouraging the wetness there, and then he drew them up to her clit, almost aching now with need. Morgan repeated the motion over and over again until she was almost writhing in his grasp, and finally she shook her head.
“I need you,” she said, taking his wrist and holding it still. “I'm not joking now. I need you.”
Something about that must have gotten through to him because he pulled his fingers away. For a moment, she felt bereft, colder than she should have been, almost angry at being left, and then he rolled on top of her, kneeling between her thighs and spreading them even further.
“You want this?” he asked, almost humbly. “You want me?”
“Yes, yes, yes...”
She would have said it a hundred times, but apparently she had said it enough. He came down over her with the full weight of his muscular frame, and then she gasped as he pressed the hard blunt head of his cock between her lips, sweeping up to her clit before bringing it down to push inside her.
The pressure of him inside her, actually filling her, made her light-headed with need; it was what she had wanted, and at the same time, it was far from enough. He stroked into her twice, slow and sweet, and then she could feel him shaking over her.
“I…want you too much,” he said, an edge of desperation in his voice.
Harper reached up push his dark hair out of his face.“Then have me,” she said, smiling, and with a groan, he seized her hips and thrust into her hard.
This was what she had needed, she thought, and then her mind gave itself over to the intense and overwhelming pleasure of Morgan moving over her like a storm. She lost herself to the intimacy of possessing Morgan and being possessed by him, and when he captured her mouth in a wild kiss, she threw her arms around him.
They moved together, lost in each other, and when the pressure building up in her core became too much, Morgan dropped his head next to hers, kissing her face.
“Let go, princess. I'll catch you.”
That was what it took. One moment she thought she might shake herself to bits, and the next she was crying out, clinging to him with all her strength as the pleasure shot through her body like fireworks. It burned her from the inside out, taking her breath away, and it was only when Morgan uttered a shout himself that she realized she was digging her nails hard in his shoulders, raking them down his back.
Still joined, he pulled back to look at her, and the wonder that she saw on his face was mirrored in her own. They breathed together, long deep breaths, and then he pulled away from her with care.
Morgan took her into his arms, and for the moment, the only thing that mattered at all was how good she felt and how right this was.
Chapter Eight
∞∞∞
For once, Morgan wasn't thinking about his shoulder or the convocation or what might lie ahead in the uncertain time to come. He wasn't even thinking about the dragon that had come out of nowhere to attack him and what that might mean for him or his family
Instead, the only thing that mattered, the only thing that mattered at all, was the woman in his arms. The slight smile on her sweet face mattered, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing mattered. The way she snuggled close to him mattered, and the way her hand rested lightly on his chest mattered.
All right, he thought with some wry amusement. I suppose I can understand why Uncle Wilf once claimed an island for his true
mate.
Dragons were known to be possessive, perhaps even greedy, at least according to their detractors. Right now, he knew that anyone who tried to take Harper away from him was going to have some serious, fiery problems on their hands.
“So,” Harper said finally. “Clothes.”
“I hate them,” Morgan told her solemnly, and she laughed, kissing his bare chest.
“If I looked like you, I probably would too,” she said. “But you didn't Hulk out of them when you turned into a dragon. Why?”
He shrugged.
“We just don't, and thank God. If we had to end every fight naked –“
“Maybe you wouldn't fight so much?”
“Or maybe we would stay in our dragon forms. Terrorize the countryside. Abscond with likely-looking princesses.”
He nuzzled the side of neck, making her laugh, but then she sat up, shaking her head when he would have reached for her again.
“We. Um. Need to talk.”
“We do?”
Morgan gave her a surprised look, and then of all things, it was his dragon that made an understanding sound deep inside his head.
Harper had no idea about true mates. A member of one of the other shifter clans would know the truth without being told, would sense it immediately, but Harper was pure human. She had no hint of shifter blood in her, let alone dragon blood.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Or maybe this is something that you do a lot and it doesn't need a lot of talk?”
“No!” he said, vaguely shocked at the idea. “I've not. That is. It's been a while since –“
He trailed off because there was no way he could finish that sentence without being crude. Harper grinned, and it occurred to him with a warm feeling in his chest that his mate had an excellent sense of humor.
“Well, it certainly doesn't look like you need the practice,” she said generously. “But seriously. This isn't something I do, or have done. I'm usually Miss Monogamy when I'm in a relationship, and it's been a while for me. This isn't normal for me at all.”
“The – sex or the dragon part?”
Morgan wasn't intending to be funny, but it made Harper laugh anyway.
“All right, neither. And I mean, I don't know where we go from here, do you? Or rather, where we decide to go from here.”
“You're my true mate, we go together,” Morgan blurted out, because of course they would. It hadn't occurred to him that she would do anything else. Now he realized that it was something that was nowhere near as clear-cut as he had thought.
Harper stared at him.
“Um. I was thinking more along the lines of we could get some coffee. It sounds like you have something else in mind.”
“We…we could start with coffee,” he offered, but she could obviously see the difficulty he was having. To his surprise, instead of drawing away, she reached up to brush her hand over his cheek, looking straight into his eyes. It occurred to Morgan that he hadn't been meeting people's eyes very much in the last few years. This much direct eye contact should have been uncomfortable, but when it was with Harper, it calmed something jagged and rough in him.
“It's all right,” she said gently. “Just say what you're thinking. I can tell there's something else on your mind, and I doubt it's coffee.”
Morgan gestured helplessly in the air between them. They had always said that there were no words for what happened when a shifter found his true mate. Apparently there had to be, because he doubted that she would simply take another kiss as his explanation.
“It could start with coffee,” he said.
“I told you –“
“They make amazing coffee in Istanbul. Istanbul is one of my favorite cities in the entire world. It's beautiful, and you can feel the history there living with the present and the future. It is not always comfortable, but sometimes, you come around the corner, and you feel that the entirety of the past and the future could be waiting for you. It has bookshops, and cats, so many street cats that own the place almost as much as the people do.”
Harper watched him with wide eyes, and he took the opportunity to pick up her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. The connection between them felt so new that there was a gossamer sort of delicacy to it. He felt as if it was something that he could shatter if he went too fast, pushed too hard.
He had ruined so much. He couldn't afford to ruin this.
“After Istanbul, perhaps I could take you to Wales. My family, the Castells, came to what would be the United States during the 1600s, but we're from Wales, originally. The Marraks, a larger branch of the family, are still there. They're old-school in many ways, but they're kind, very kind. They would love to meet you.”
“Why would they love to meet me?”
The look she shot him was confused, but she wasn't angry or afraid. He decided that that was very good. He could deal with confused.
“Because…once they realize that I have found my true mate, they would be thrilled.”
it seemed as if everything froze in that moment. In the dimness of her bedroom, he couldn't quite make out her expression.
“True mate. Is this a dragon thing?”
There was a small part of Morgan that mourned the note of incredulity in her voice, but he clung to the fact that it was incredulity and not disbelief.
“It's a shifter thing. There are a lot of different tribes and clans, but this is one thing we all seem to have in common. Unlike humans, we have true mates, and when we find ours, that's it for us.”
There was a long pause. He could imagine Harper examining the idea as if it were a bolt of fabric, fingering the weave, trying to figure out if she was pleased or not.
“It sounds final,” she said.
Morgan didn't respond. It was.
“Morgan –“
“Are you telling me you didn't feel anything?” he burst out. “Are you telling me that when we kissed, when I made love to you, you didn't feel anything at all?”
The urgency in his voice made her eyes widen, and she stood up from the bed, picking up a robe hanging from the closet and tying it securely around her waist before turning back to him. She needed the armor, he realized with a pang.
“Look, neither of us are in any shape to discuss this right now. It's…been a big night for both of us, hasn't it? You got into an aerial brawl, and I learned about the existence of dragons. This true mate…stuff. It's just too much. Surely you see that?”
Morgan had been ready to argue further, but there was just a tiny bit of a plea in her voice, just the smallest waver of confusion and weariness. He couldn't deny her something that she asked in that voice, and he nodded reluctantly.
“Do you want me to leave?” he forced himself to ask. If she nodded, he would leave, and then he had no idea what he would do. Maybe go find that dragon that had decided to test him earlier and do some testing of his own. Maybe go find a bar and cry into his beer. He was still deciding.
To his surprise and immense relief, Harper bit her lip and then shook her head.
“No. Stay. I'd be pretty damn cold to kick you out at this point, wouldn't I?”
“No. If you wanted me to go, I would. No matter what.”
“And the true mate stuff?”
He gave her a stiff look, suddenly slightly envious of her robe. He felt more naked than he had a moment before, even after everything they had done together.
“I wouldn't love you very much or very well if I disregarded your wishes and imposed my own.”
Something, Morgan wasn't sure what, flickered across Harper's face, and then she nodded.
“Then stay,” she said huskily. “I'd like to sleep with you. That's all I know right now.”
She disappeared into the bathroom for a shower, and after his own, Morgan came back to find her arranging a few more pillows at the head of the bed and along the side.
“Sometimes it helps me sleep more comfortably if I can sort of wedge myself in,” she explained.
&
nbsp; Morgan watched with interest as she laid down on her side, a small pillow cuddled to her chest, and he followed her into the bed, instinctively wrapping himself against her back. His arm fit in the dent of her waist as if they had been made for each other, and he breathed in the scent of her eucalyptus shampoo, clean and light.
In the dark, he listened dreamily as her breath grew longer and smoother. Her body relaxed against his, and some little while later, he knew that she was asleep, safe in his arms and as peaceful as the moon.
Softly and secretly, he kissed the top of her head, and he let the pleasure and wonder of discovering his true mate suffuse him from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.
Mine, he thought. And I am yours, if you want me. If you'll have me.
Chapter Nine
∞∞∞
Harper woke the next morning alone in her bed and with the strange feeling that that was simply not right.
I shouldn't be alone, she thought with some asperity. Morgan should be right here with me.
The feeling of unease and irritation was so surprising, so unlike her, that it made her jump a little, shaking her head at her own silliness.
All that talk about true mates, it's gotten into my head, I think. And honestly. It hasn't been that long since I've gotten laid. I shouldn't be this clingy, should I?
It was a slightly disturbing thought. She valued her independence, guarded it fiercely from people who might try to take it away from her. She was good alone, and skilled at navigating that way when so much of the world seemed designed for two.
Still, when she heard rustling from the kitchen, Harper allowed herself to feel the brief twinge of relief that Morgan hadn't disappeared in the night. She told herself that it was nice to have more than just a one-night stand, but even as she pulled on a large T-shirt and a pair of panties, she was reassured.