Dragon's Heart (The DragonFate Novels Book 3)

by Deborah Cooke

  “Do you mind?”

  Rhys turned at the sound of Lila’s question. She had a sexy voice, low and sultry, and spoke slowly, as if she had all the time in the world. Her Scottish accent worked for him in a big way, too.

  To his relief, she looked a thousand times better than she had when he’d brought her home. Her dark hair was long and loose, and it shone a bit in the candlelight. She was barefoot, dressed in one of his chambray shirts, the sleeves rolled up and the hem falling to her thighs. He wondered whether she was wearing anything underneath at all.

  The sores on her skin had vanished as surely as the burn from the red string. She was almost glowing with good health.

  How had that happened? Something in the water? Maybe it was a selkie thing.

  Lila smiled at his survey and gestured to the shirt. “I put my things in the dryer and literally have nothing to wear.”

  “No, I don’t mind. Not at all,” Rhys said, as casually as he could. He took a good long look before he could check himself, noting the lean strength of her legs. The shirt could have been just a little shorter, to his thinking, or open, instead of hiding the rest of her curves.

  When he met Lila’s sparkling dark gaze, she smiled, as if she’d guessed his thoughts and didn’t mind. The firestorm burned with a golden glow, echoing the light of the candles and filling his place with light and heat. It simmered in his veins, making him think of her back to the bedroom and getting rid of that shirt, of exploring her from head to toe and taking her to the cusp of pleasure...

  There was a loud sizzle and the smoke alarm sounded, jolting Rhys back to reality.

  “Something’s burning,” Lila said.

  Rhys had already spun to find smoke rising from the grill. He swallowed a curse and quickly moved pans around, turning off the heat and doing his best to save the grilled vegetables. One look at them smoking in the pan and he chucked them in the sink. They sizzled in the bit of water there and he put the pan aside. He surveyed the result of his distraction and tried to plan an alternative that would be ready at the same time as the fish. He failed.

  Then the firestorm crackled as Lila laid a hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, feeling its insistent sizzle, and turned to see her eyes narrow. Her gaze swept over him, her expression so grim that he wondered what he’d done or said wrong.

  “You’re hurt,” she said with quiet conviction, then met his gaze.

  Rhys was surprised she knew. He thought he’d hidden the damage pretty well. “How can you tell?”

  “It’s your aura,” she said, her tone pragmatic. “And I’m a healer. I look for it.”

  “You didn’t say anything earlier.”

  “I saw it right away.”

  But she hadn’t done anything. Rhys understood immediately. His return of her skin had been exactly the right thing to do.

  Lila smiled and flicked a fingertip across his mouth. “And this firestorm of yours is a little distracting.” Sparks danced between her fingertip and his lips and she watched them as if mesmerized, their light mirrored in her eyes. Then she looked up at Rhys, their gazes locking as his heart nearly stopped. He felt as if a barrier had been dissolved between them and was glad he’d thought of the skin.

  “It is,” he managed to agree, and could have drowned in the darkness of her eyes.

  “Where are you hurt?” she asked, giving him a fierce look. “Or would you rather I found the injuries myself?”

  “It’s just a rip or two,” he said, trying to make light of the damage Embron had inflicted. “The usual result of a dragonfight. It’ll heal.”

  She raised a brow. “Without treatment?” She was already lifting the hem of his T-shirt and the firestorm crackled between them with dizzying intensity.

  “I put some of Sloane’s salve on it,” Rhys managed to say. “It works pretty well.”

  “Sloane?” Lila bent to look at his side, placing her hand against the bandage he’d bound around himself. She shook her head, then unfastened the end of his makeshift bandage. She looked as disapproving as Sloane might have, but Rhys had found it hard to treat this particular injury because of its location.

  “The Apothecary of the Pyr. He makes herbal potions for us.”

  Lila inhaled sharply when the cloth fell away. “No salve will fix these, at least not soon.” Even Rhys was surprised by the deep gouges and had to avert his gaze.

  He lifted Lila’s hand away, not wanting her to think he was an invalid. “It’s fine. It’ll heal,” he said. “Let me serve your dinner.”

  “No. I’m going to fix this first,” she said with authority. Rhys opened his mouth to argue, but she shook a finger at him. “Are all the villains vanquished? Could Embron come back for another round? What about the Dark Queen? Is she locked safely back in Fae?”

  Rhys sighed. “You’re right. It isn’t over.”

  Lila’s smile was fleeting. She flattened her hands against his skin, pressing her palms against the open wounds. Then she leaned against him and closed her eyes. Rhys caught his breath at the lick of the firestorm against his skin, then the cool touch of her palms against his injuries.

  “I don’t think...” he began to protest.

  “Don’t think,” she said, then bent and exhaled right beside his wound.

  Rhys’ eyes widened when he saw something swirl from her mouth. It was blue or maybe green, like a mist rising above the sea. It flowed from Lila’s mouth to his injuries, and instead of the spark of the firestorm, he felt a coolness wherever it touched. The ocean might have been lapping against his side, each wave of salt water easing the pain a little bit more. He sensed the intensity of her concentration and understood that she was giving him a gift. The rhythm of her breath and the relief made him lean back his head and close his eyes.

  It felt so good.

  Selkies could heal, or at least this one could. Rhys hadn’t known that, but he had no doubt of Lila’s powers. He felt the muscle knitting together again. He felt the skin growing so that the wound closed. He felt the burn of the injury fade and even the swelling disappear. By the time Lila straightened beside him and tossed her hair over her shoulder, he knew what his exploring hand would find.

  His side was healed, as if he’d never been injured at all.

  His mate had chosen to help him.

  Rhys’ doubts about Lila’s intentions were completely dismissed. She had to be his mate. The firestorm had to be real.

  He looked down, awed and amazed. “Wow. Thank you.”

  Lila didn’t reply, though. She looked down at his feet, then dropped to one knee.

  “They aren’t healing,” he admitted. She eased off his kitchen clog with gentle hands then grimaced at the sight of his injured foot.

  “These wounds aren’t from a dragonfight,” she said, glancing up at him. “These are from Fae, from dancing.”

  Rhys nodded.

  Lila winced and ran a fingertip along the side of his foot. “Blisters that rose and broke, then bled. I’ll bet the bottoms of your feet are almost raw.”

  “It’s not pretty,” Rhys admitted.

  She moved her hand toward the wounds and away from them again, frowning at something only she could see. “There’s still magick in them.”

  Rhys was reassured that they’d come to a similar conclusion. He usually recovered quickly and while he was making some progress with these injuries, they should have been completely healed by now. She asked to see the other foot and Rhys removed his other clog, watching as she studied them.

  She knelt before him and breathed her healing mist, the relief so intense that Rhys felt tear prick when he closed his eyes. He could feel the coolness against his feet, and once again, he felt the wounds closing and the skin healing. The pain receded so that it wasn’t at the fore of his thoughts anymore and gratitude flooded his heart.

  Lila stopped then and frowned down at his feet. They weren’t completely healed, but the improvement was remarkable.

  “Thank you,” Rhys said.

  S
he stood, bracing her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to seal them completely before the magick is evicted.” She smiled at him. “I have to think about this,” she admitted. “Magick is complicated.”

  She’d proven that they were stronger together than apart. They would have a partnership, even if it took him nine months to convince her.

  He could start right away.

  “Better thinking on a full stomach?” he asked, feeling lighter and more like his usual confident self.

  Lila smiled, a brighter and happier smile than he’d seen so far, and stood beside him. “Did I earn dinner for improving those wounds, at least?”

  “You don’t have to earn dinner,” he began to protest, but Lila silenced him with the caress of her fingers across his mouth. The firestorm surged between them, making the air crackle with heat, feeding Rhys’ need to give her pleasure.

  “Don’t worry about the vegetables. I mostly want the fish,” she whispered, then kissed the corner of his mouth. He closed his eyes against the flare of light, then watched her, mesmerized. “Maybe a little salad.” She kissed the other corner of his mouth, sending a tide of desire through him that left his knees weak.

  Rhys lifted her against him, then seated her on the counter. She immediately wrapped her legs around him, holding him tightly against her heat. “We don’t have to eat at all,” he said, noticing that he sounded breathless and rushed. “Or not right away.”

  “Great minds think alike,” she whispered, reaching to replace her fingertips with her mouth. “In fact, I have an appetite for something a little more substantial.” Her eyes lit with mischief and she surveyed him with a smile. “Are you guaranteed to please, too?”

  “Of course.”

  She laughed then framed his face in her hands and kissed him, teasing him with the brush of her mouth over his and sending sparks flying into the air. Then she sealed her mouth over his and Rhys forgot everything but the glorious woman in his arms.

  And the firestorm that demanded to be satisfied.

  Each kiss was better than the last.

  Rhys locked his hands around Lila’s waist, leaning against her so she could feel his erection. He could have been carved of stone, every muscle taut, every bit of him pumped. Lila ran her hands over him, locked her fingers into his hair and opened her mouth to him. Rhys didn’t hesitate: he angled his head, deepening their kiss and swallowing her gasp of pleasure. His kiss turned wicked and provocative, teasing and tempting her, proving that she’d been right about his attention to detail. The weight of his hands on her was perfect. His kiss was the ideal combination of sweetness and hot demand. The firestorm crackled and burned around them with such intensity that Lila had to close her eyes against its bright light. She felt a trickle of perspiration slide down her spine and tasted salt in their kiss, but she didn’t care.

  This kiss was so wonderful that she didn’t want it to end.

  Rhys’ hands slid under the hem of the shirt she’d borrowed from him and she heard his little growl of pleasure when he discovered that she was naked underneath it. He lifted it to her shoulders and she raised her arms, letting him push it over her head. His eyes glittered as he surveyed her, nude on his counter, and he cast the shirt to the floor.

  Then he took a step back. He peeled off his T-shirt and Lila was the one taking a close study. There was a dragon tattoo on his chest, one that wasn’t nearly as magnificent as he was in dragon form. The sparks of the firestorm seemed to dance around the ink, illuminating it with inner fire. Rhys kicked off his jeans and she inhaled in anticipation as he returned to kiss her again. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, claiming his mouth with another demanding kiss. One of his arms locked around her waist and the other slid beneath her, lifting her off the counter.

  He carried her to the bedroom without breaking his kiss, then laid her on the sheets she’d left rumpled. Before she could protest, his mouth slid down, kissing the underside of her chin, the side of her neck, the hollow of her throat. His lips left a trail of fire as the firestorm sparked and burned with increasing heat and Lila thought she might melt with desire. He cupped her breast in one palm, his thumb sliding across her nipple in a gentle demand that made her catch her breath. Then his mouth closed around her nipple, teasing it to a tight peak with his lips and teeth and tongue. He had one arm locked around her waist and his other hand slid between her thighs to caress her.

  Lila moaned and surrendered to pleasure. Rhys stretched out beside her and she hung on to his broad shoulders, letting him torment her with his touch. When her nipple was tight, he turned his attention to the other one, even as he rolled her clitoris between his finger and thumb. He pinched it lightly and Lila dug her fingernails into his shoulders, burning with a need to have him inside her. She made an incoherent plea and felt the breath of his laughter, then he eased two fingers inside her, his thumb still driving her to distraction.

  Every sweep of his fingers over her body left a line of sparks in its wake and she soon felt as if her skin glowed with desire. She felt radiant from his sensual touch and she saw the halo of light that the firestorm created around them. It danced on the ceiling, an aura of their mating, and she smiled that it was both bright and whole.

  She caught his face in her hands again and kissed him, letting her fingertips trail into his hair and down his neck to his shoulders. She felt the line of fire left in their wake and knew they coaxed this fire to burn together. Lila poured everything into her kiss, wanting it to be persuasive and potent, slow and sensual, as well as filled with the urgency of the firestorm.

  He’d waited five hundred years for this. He’d never experience it again. Lila wanted this night to be a touchstone for him, a potent memory of the birthright of his kind.

  She was pretty sure she’d remember it forever.

  She opened her mouth to him and Rhys accepted the invitation, demanding more from her with every breath. Lila once again wrapped her arms around his waist, wanting to feel his heat inside her, and rocked against him. He was hard and thick, as impressive as she expected a dragon shifter to be, and she couldn’t wait. The storm was rising inside her and she knew she was close to release, but she wanted them to ride that wave together.

  “Not yet,” he whispered, catching his breath.

  “Now,” she demanded and rolled him to his back. She tossed her hair as she sat astride him, smiling down at him in triumph as she took him inside her. He closed his eyes in the same moment that Lila tipped her head back with satisfaction.

  So good.

  “So tight,” he whispered and flexed his fingers, gripping her waist. When he opened his eyes, they were gleaming, and his smile was slow and wicked.

  Lila lowered herself over him, letting her hair fall in a curtain around them, crushing her breasts against his chest. He surveyed her as his hands roved lower and he gripped her tightly then drove even deeper. She held his gaze as she rolled her hips, watching him inhale sharply, her lips parting as he rubbed against her.

  “You’re blushing,” he murmured.

  “I’m burning up.”

  He grinned and rubbed against her, making her lips part with pleasure. “Let’s kindle this fire,” he said. “Let’s make it burn white-hot and forge everything new.”

  That was an invitation Lila couldn’t refuse.

  The firestorm sizzled beyond any fire Rhys had ever experienced. It burned and it cauterized; it cleansed and it purified; it made everything simple and clear. Lila was his mate. They would have a son. They would build a family and a future together, and the moment he had awaited his entire life had arrived.

  The firestorm marked the beginning.

  Its heat surged through his body, filling him with power and purpose, and the conviction that his destiny was just as foretold. The sight of Lila, her smooth fair skin, her long dark hair, her eyes filled with a thousand invitations, was more than he could resist. That she’d healed him was so much more than he’d ever expected in a mate. She moved with
a sensual grace that he knew would always fascinate him. He liked that she was clever and outspoken. He liked that she was accustomed to taking care of herself.

  He knew they’d make an incredible team.

  She was atop him, her hair flowing out behind her, her lips curved in a smile. The firestorm burned around her like a brilliant corona and Rhys felt its fire in his veins. He would never forget this moment. She bent over him and speared her fingers into his hair, holding him captive to her hungry kiss. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and he could feel the beat of her heart.

  His own matched its pace, and the sensation made his head spin. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the demand of the firestorm, its pulsing heat, its urgent insistence on satisfaction. He moved within Lila’s slick heat, then eased a finger between them to caress her clitoris. He felt her gasp as if he had made the same sound himself. His breathing matched hers and the thunder of his heart was her own. He knew as she approached the summit of her pleasure and was right with her. When he felt the storm launch, he pinched her and she roared with pleasure as her climax swept over her. The brilliant halo of fire brightened around her, flashing white with her release.

  Rhys heard himself roar as he followed suit, and his pleasure seemed to last a thousand years. He closed his eyes, his heart thundering in the aftermath, then she collapsed atop him, still trembling. Rhys could have run a marathon, judging by the thunder of his heart and the simmer beneath his skin. He smiled at the sweep of her silken hair over his lips, then opened his eyes. She braced her weight on her hands and smiled down at him.

  “Wow,” she said, then licked her finger and touched his shoulder. She made a hissing sound. “Hot stuff.”

  But there was no golden spark of the firestorm, not anymore. It had been genuine, and now it was satisfied. Rhys exhaled and felt his heart slow, then he reached up to spear his fingers through Lila’s hair. The long strands tangled over his hand and her smile broadened as he pulled her down for another long slow kiss.

  The firestorm was satisfied, but he still had to convince his mate of the merit of their partnership. Rhys intended to take his time—and be persuasive.