As they wound their way through dark tunnels lit by candlelight, music became louder, nearly deafening. A clearing appeared in front of them, a hollowed out cathedral in the center of the mountain of rock, stone and dirt. Smack in the middle, amidst fifty or so Dracos wildly clapping their hands, was a man and woman, staring into each others’ eyes.
Harmony and peace flew from the hands of the Dracos and swept though the cave, creating a layer of energy that tingled as it settled on Misty’s skin. But beyond that, fear and trepidation lashed through the air, hollowing out a pit in Misty’s heart.
It was then that she spotted them: large red letters that had just been carved into the man’s chest with a sacred Draco spear. A Sindraco woman’s bleeding name: Willow.
It was the mark signifying one thing—a dragon had claimed his rider. Misty couldn’t blame Willow for being afraid. On the surface, it was scary to think her life could end before she hit forty years of age. But on the other hand, she would live the next decade completely and utterly free…riding the back of the man she’d grow to love like no other. How many souls wandered the world lost, dreaming of living an adventurous life with their one true love? Misty put her dollar on all of them.
She couldn’t help but stare at Rafe.
He was zoned in on the new couple, mindlessly brushing his fingers over his own chest.
Did he have the mark of a rider? Had he claimed one? Surely there were a hundred Sindraco women vying for the chance.
“Rafe? Can I ask you something?” Misty tried to focus on the couple instead of the tingles shooting through her body, warming her core. She was too close to Rafe to know if the sparks of lust were from his body or hers. They both knew the couple would go to their private quarters and mate, then forever be sealed as dragon and rider. And they both clearly remembered how steamy their own private rendezvous had been. Rafe was magnificent as a dragon, but it was nothing compared to what he could do in the bedroom.
“You can ask me anything,” he said, his voice velvety soft.
“Have you claimed a rider?” Damn it, she should’ve kept her trap shut! His private life was none of her business. “I assume you have. I mean, a dragon like you couldn’t remain bare back for long, but…I was, um, never mind.” She shook her head and twisted a lock of hair around her finger nervously. “That was dumb of me to ask, I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He leaned in close. His breath was hot and moist on her ear. “Will you follow me so I can show you something?”
She nodded, cherishing the chills that scampered across her skin, and followed his every move as he pushed through a crowd of Dracos and strode down a side corridor with openings carved into the sides.
“Queen Elixa used to have me deliver messages back and forth between Castle Arcane and this clan,” he said, pulling back a velour curtain that led to a private quarter with a bed and a dresser. “They keep a room empty for me in case I ever need a place to stay.”
The ceilings were high—big enough for Rafe to shift into his dragon form and stretch his wings. The floor and walls were thick, solid packed dirt. Glowing candles sat in wrought-iron sconces on the walls. And goodness gracious—the bed! It was immaculate, draped in black and white fur, with a dozen fluffy pillows.
“This is what you wanted to show me?” Misty asked, picking up hints of anxiety in the air.
“No.” With his back facing her, Rafe shrugged out of his T-shirt and tossed it on the floor. His back muscles flexed and pulsed in the candlelight, making Misty realize for the first time how uncomfortably alone they were. “I’ve wanted to show you this since the night you left Feralon.” He turned around slowly.
Arching across the center of his chest, misshapen and scarred, was a woman’s name…her name…Misty.
Chapter Three
“You never claimed me,” Misty whispered as her fingers ghosted over the letters Rafe had scrawled across his chest. “I’m not your rider…you didn’t claim me, Rafe, why is my name carved into your skin? I—I don’t understand….”
Although she wasn’t actually touching him, Rafe’s stomach burned at the closeness of Misty’s hand. Every inch of skin she traced made him raw with need. He trembled beneath the heat of her fingertip.
“When you left the Isle of Feralon I knew I’d never claim another rider.” He caught two of her fingers, brought them to his lips and kissed them softly. “I wanted to carry you with me forever, with or without the ceremony.”
“You did this yourself?”
He nodded, watching her expression shift from confusion to anger.
“No, no, no.” The light in her eyes fogged over and she pulled her hand away. “You told me to leave. You said you didn’t love me.”
“I lied…to protect you.”
“You broke my heart to protect me? That doesn’t make any sense.” Turning, she walked to the cherry wood dresser tucked into the curve of the cave wall. “I was ready to be your rider, Rafe. I would’ve done anything…” She paused as if she wanted to say more.
Rafe waited, watching her foot pound the floor and her fingers strum the dresser. She was damn cute when she was irritated. He stifled a laugh.
Misty spun around. “You think this is a joke? It’s not funny playing with my emotions like this.”
“I’m not playing anymore. That’s why I agreed to escort you across the isle. I had to tell you the truth…. I couldn’t live another day without you knowing what really happened between us.”
When Rafe realized he may not live another day at all, his stomach churned. Before he died, Misty had to know his true feelings. She had to know he loved her then. He loved her still. He’d love her until his last breath…which sadly, was coming too soon.
“I know what really happened. I was there, remember? First, you insisted I leave Feralon.” Her tone was drenched in disbelief. “Then, you had Queen Elixa revoke my rights to live among the Dracos. You told me, straight-faced, that you loved somebody else.”
“Misty, listen—”
“No, you listen.” She jabbed a finger to his chest.
Rafe shouldn’t have liked the rough contact, but he did. The dragon part of him stirred, aching to be set free.
“I moved away from here,” Misty said. “I started a new life in San Francisco. I got over you…or at least I thought I did. I wanted this life, Rafe. I wanted you.”
“You deserve to have a life of your choosing…not one I choose for you.”
“Don’t you dare try to tell me what I deserve.” Misty rested her hand on her forehead as if she were feeling faint. “Queen Elixa summons me back after ten years of being away, uses my love of your race to lure me on this damn quest and then you show up with my name on your chest. What do you expect me to feel when I see that? What do you expect me to say?”
He clutched her hand to his heart. Her breath caught with a gasp.
“I had to keep a piece of you with me,” he said.
“Why couldn’t you have kept me with you?”
“Would you have stayed with me in Feralon if I’d asked you to?”
Misty’s eyes glowed bright like the face of the full moon. “You know I would’ve.”
“That…right there…is the exact reason you had to leave.”
“You wanted me to leave because you wanted me to be with you? That wouldn’t make sense to a madman.”
Rafe didn’t know how to put it without pissing her off and pushing her away. With a heavy exhale, he said, “You wanted to travel the world. You wanted a home with a husband and children….I can’t count the times you talked about those things when we were together. If you’d stayed here, if I’d claimed you as my rider, your dreams would’ve started and ended in Feralon. I would’ve killed you, forcing you to stay here with me.”
Shaking her head, Misty lowered her gaze to the lettering on his chest. “You had no right to make that decision for me. You had no right.”
“Over time you would’ve resented staying…and that res
entment would’ve turned on me. After ten or twenty years passed and your seconds became numbered, bitterness would’ve set into your heart. You would’ve viewed our commitment as a prison, holding you back from really, truly living the life you would’ve had without me…without this place.”
She looked up into Rafe’s eyes, melting him with the awareness sparkling in their depths. Even if she wouldn’t admit it aloud, he’d gotten his point across. His love had never faltered. And she knew it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, if he wanted to.
“If you’re telling me now that you love me,” she said, “and the last time we saw each other you said you loved another, with the same sincerity in your voice, how am I supposed to know which words to believe?”
He shrugged and gently brushed a crimson curl out of her face. “You just have to trust your heart.” He knew it’d guide her to the right place—into his arms.
She paused, held his gaze, measuring his words. Then with a single teasing smile, Misty shoved Rafe’s world off its axis.
“I’m not saying I trust you, yet.” Her finger, the one she’d pointed into his chest, began to rake back and forth across his skin. “But I can almost taste the chemistry sparking between us. I’ve always been able to trust that.”
Her words, moist and breathy, were spoken with such rich seduction, Rafe’s knees nearly buckled. He bit back a groan as heat rushed to his groin. And as he cradled the small of her back, bending her into him, sparks flew through his hands, his arms, radiating into his chest. How intense would the reaction be, skin to skin? “I couldn’t let you give up your dreams for me, Misty. Not then. Not ever. You had to know the real reason I turned you away, before—” He stopped, barely breathing. Before I died for you. “I just had to show you.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t want to think about that right now.” Misty reached up on tiptoe, hesitated a breath away from his mouth. He shook like a puppet on a string. “I’m tired of fighting. Of overthinking. I just want to trust what I feel when I’m in your arms.” Her lips brushed his, feather soft, cementing his heart with a thud.
Rafe’s hands drifted up her back, his fingers getting lost in her mane of fiery curls. He pulled back, dizzy with desire. “This isn’t what I had in mind.”
“Then let’s not plan anything from here on out. Let’s forget the empty promises of our past and the dreams of our future. Let’s just live in the moment.”
She spoke to the secret, dying part of him. This moment was all Rafe had. “But there are things to be said.” God, Rafe wanted nothing more than to drag Misty to bed and make love to her until they crumpled in each others’ arms. He wanted to lift her legs around his waist and drive into her until she shattered apart. But Misty had to know he was dying…that there was no way to save him. He couldn’t keep it from her any longer.
“It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been away.” Her full lips parted into a luminous smile. “We can’t procreate unless we’ve gone through the claiming ceremony, so there’s nothing to worry about there, and diseases can’t pass between races, although I’m clean anyhow.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
Rafe would have gone on—told her about the days, hours, minutes he had left before his heart stopped beating from his refusal to choose a rider. But she hushed him; shut him up good, by covering his mouth with hers. Her tongue dove deep, swirling alongside his. When he gave up the fight and matched her, stroke for deliciously wet stroke, Misty let out a moan that dropped Rafe’s stomach to his boots.
Thoughts of talk far from his mind, Rafe swept Misty off her feet and carried her to bed, where he plopped her down more forcefully than he’d planned.
“Oh,” she panted, scooting farther onto the bed. She settled into a mound of fur and pillows and fanned her waves of glorious red hair behind her.
Rafe heeled off his boots then stalked over Misty’s body, planting his hands on either side of her, first one, and then the other. Her eyes widened with passion. “Oh, I get it…I’m your prey.”
“And you’re going to be a delicious treat.” Hovering inches above her, weight on his hands, hips between her legs, Rafe watched hungrily as Misty’s chest heaved, her nipples pressing through the thin cotton of her shirt. She was drop-dead gorgeous. Those mesmerizing hazel eyes and plump, teasing lips…the way she was slowly writhing beneath him in anticipation…Holy hell, she’d be the death of him.
But what a way to go.
“I’ve waited so long for this. I’m starving for you.” Rafe leaned down, caught her mouth and groaned into her lips as she roped her legs around him.
*
Was she really doing this? Oh, God, she was. Her legs were snaked around Rafe’s waist. His tongue was deep in her mouth, stroking her lips.
No matter how Misty tried to resist him, she was drawn to him as if he was the very reason her lungs continued breathing and her heart pumping. Kissing him felt natural. Like she’d done it all her life. Like there’d never been another. Well, she supposed there hadn’t. Not really.
Blazing heat surged through her body as she ran her fingers across the groves of his abs and kissed him harder, deeper, finally letting herself go.
Rafe unzipped her pants and eased them down around her ankles, before kicking them off the bed, her panties in tow. While he worked her lips and smudged fevered kisses down her neck, Misty unbuttoned his pants and shimmied those off, too. He stripped off her shirt, flung it aside then settled his naked body between her hips.
With one hand planted on the bed, bearing all his weight, Rafe slid his other hand between her legs and gently scissored her tender flesh between his fingers. She bucked from the contact, arching her back, spreading her legs so he could easily glide his fingers through her heat.
How many years had she dreamed of reliving this moment? How many nights had she gone to bed wishing Rafe were curled next to her? Too many.
He moved with her, his erection pressing against her thigh, the playful expertise of his fingers dragging her dangerously close to climax. The fire in his eyes devoured her body. His mouth fell open as he gasped with each tiny movement of her hips against his hand.
“God, Misty, you’re so wet.” His voice was hoarse, strained. “So beautiful.”
Raking her fingers up and down his back, Misty realized this was not how she wanted him. She didn’t want to climax from his touch alone, though she easily could. No. She needed him hot and hard and thrusting into her until she couldn’t breathe. As a shudder ripped through her, it all stopped. She could sense his restraint snapping back into place like a door slamming shut.
But it wasn’t over. Far from it.
Breath racing, Misty gripped handfuls of the fur beneath her and braced for the coming storm.
Hesitating, unmoving, Rafe’s emerald eyes grew heavy lidded. His chest muscles quivered, ever so slightly. Misty stilled beneath him, waiting for the pressure of his body to drive into her.
She couldn’t wait much longer. All that mattered now was Rafe; the bulge of his chest muscles bronze in the flickering candlelight. The rapid beating of his heart she could hear as if it was her own. Those shimmering emerald specks on his cheek that she longed to shadow with her fingers until they both drifted to sleep.
Mad with need, Misty clenched her thighs around his waist and pressed him closer, until the tip of his shaft met her core.
With one slow push, Rafe buried himself in her warmth. As their hips met, a moan erupted from his chest, low and deep; a primal sound that made Misty’s limbs go languid and weak. Any negative feelings Misty had about accepting this mission, melted away in a single moment.
She arched into him, feeling her muscles pulse along the thick head of his shaft.
He pulled back slowly, stroking her from the inside out. He plunged into her slick heat again and again, with long, heavy strokes that had them both gasping for air.
One arm wrapped around her neck, the other cradling her back, Rafe nuzzled int
o her neck, kissing her skin, hot and openmouthed.
“You’re mine,” he breathed into her ear. “Forever mine.”
Misty’s heart fluttered wildly. That was all she’d ever wanted to hear.
Chills exploded across her body like lightning across the Feralon sky, gathering in a ball of shimmering ecstasy at her center. She clutched at him then, as his pace sped and his hips collided against her, until they were both bucking and sweating and riding waves of orgasm.
He thrust one last time and held tight, exploding inside her until he was shaking and trembling from the force of their passion. She rose up, clawing at his back, hoping he’d drive so deep into her that they’d never part.
As their bodies stilled, melting into one another in a tangle of naked flesh and fur blankets, Rafe brought Misty back to reality by kissing her neck, her chin, her lips.
“I’ve missed you.” He brushed the tip of her nose against hers. “I didn’t realize how much until now.”
This didn’t change anything. She didn’t love him, Misty told herself, as she ghosted her thumb over the crest of Draco flecks arching beneath his eyes. She couldn’t. Their connection was only physical. Only…physical.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered, and fell asleep with a butterfly dancing in her heart.
Chapter Four
When the sun breached the walls of Timeless Gorge, slashing the sky with pink and orange clouds, Misty found Rafe crouched near the wide mouth of the cavern. He was digging through his duffel with his back to her.
He heard her approach. She knew because his hands stilled. But he didn’t turn around.
“Good morning.” Misty crossed her arms and rubbed her hands over them, feeling an odd sensation coil in the pit of her stomach—tension. Was it hers? His? “Didn’t hear you get up.”
“I thought you’d want to get an early start.” Rafe turned around then, his T-shirt and blue jeans clinging to his massive frame. Although his expression was soft, his eyes were guarded. “I said goodbye to the clan and packed some breakfast. I wanted to make sure we’d be ready to fly when you got up.”
Claimed by Desire Page 3