Fury of Fire (Dragonfury Series #1)

by Coreene Callahan

  She rubbed her eyes and shifted, registering the softness beneath her and that she lay curled on her side. On board with the super perky rise-and-shine routine, her vision sharpened. Glossy white cabinets and a stainless steel countertop glinted in the low light. A round table broke up the space, sitting between the bank of cupboards and the bed. Two metal chairs sat at odd angles alongside, like they’d been pushed out of the way in a hurry.

  She noticed the equipment next.

  Lined up like soldiers, a collection of machines stood shoulder to shoulder against the wall and…wow. Nothing but the best for this unit. The medical equipment was state of the art, the most expensive models on the market. Not that the person using them cared. The heart-rate monitor was a complete travesty. Wires and electrodes hung to the floor in a messy tangle that just made her mad. Someone needed to kick that nurse’s—or intern’s—butt. That machine helped save people’s lives and—

  Wait a second.

  What was she doing in a hospital? Okay. Stupid question. Part of her job involved spending time in hospitals, but she’d never been a patient. Until now.

  Myst squinted at the pale walls, looking for a clue: a picture, a diploma, signs of any kind. Nada. A big, fat blank. Just like her memory.

  Man, this was getting old. She could do without the whole “can’t remember the next morning” routine. Especially when every time it happened, she ended up eyeballing someone else’s sheets. With a sigh, Myst stretched, arching her back to work the kinks out and…

  She was naked. No hospital johnny. Just skin on cotton. Again.

  Her mind came back online in a hurry. Holy crap. Bastian. It had to be. Every time she closed her eyes around the guy, she woke up without a stitch on. Which wouldn’t have been all that bad if he stuck around after he’d gotten her that way.

  Whoa. Wrong thought. Ah…wasn’t it?

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Myst tried to decide. She wanted him—no denying it—but was sleeping with him the smart thing to do? She knew herself well, could feel the fall coming. She didn’t do casual sex. At least, not well. The one time she’d tried, she’d ended up getting hurt, wanting something the guy wasn’t prepared to give.

  She sighed, admitting she was in too deep.

  But the worst was knowing Bastian wanted her, too. She could see it every time he looked at her. And when he looked at her, she forgot where she was, what she was supposed to be doing…namely saying no.

  With a groan, Myst flipped the sheet back. Time to get up.

  “Bellmia?”

  The sleepy murmur drifted over her shoulder. A strong arm followed, snaking around her body from behind. She twitched in surprise, gasping when he pulled her in tight. His chest touched her first, pressing against her back a second before the rest of him followed. Oh, God. She had him, full-on contact; his breath warming the side of her neck, his strong body up against hers.

  Her eyes drifted closed, and she leaned back, relaxing into his embrace. Wrong thing to do, she knew. She should be shrugging out of his hold, telling him off…giving him the heave-ho. He was, after all, taking a truckload for granted. But as he fit her to the curve of his body, she lost the will to resist along with her voice. He felt too good, not even the threat of future pain overrode her desire for closeness.

  He needed her. And she wanted to be needed.

  Shifting into a shoulder roll, Myst glanced over her shoulder. Sleepy green eyes met hers and…oh, man. Sexy, naked, sleep-rumpled man alert.

  “Hi.” Her voice came out on a husky whisper.

  “Hi back.” Bastian’s mouth curved up at the corners. God help her. The guy was dangerous when he smiled. “How do you feel?”

  “Umm…good. I’m good.” She dragged her focus from his lips and met his gaze. Hmm. His irises were the most incredible color: bright green, blue, and hazel flecks in a unique blend that was all Bastian.

  Releasing a long breath, his eyes drifted closed. He murmured low, speaking a language she’d never heard before. One that was beautifully rhythmic, and as the rolling R’s and long-drawn S’s filled the quiet, she realized he was praying. Or thanking someone.

  She shuffled sideways, turning in his arms until she faced him. Bad idea if she planned to escape, but her heart wasn’t much into getting free at the moment. And as she cupped his cheek, she didn’t care if she got burned in the end. Here and now? Yeah, that’s what mattered, and being with him like this felt too right to avoid.

  She traced the ridge of his cheekbone with her fingertips. “Hey…are you okay?”

  “Perfect.” His deep voice rumbled, and she shivered as he opened his eyes. His gaze shimmered in the low light, heating her up, making her want. With a soft growl, he kissed the center of her palm.

  Steady girl. Take it slow…breathe.

  She took the advice, breathed in then out. But her gaze drifted, wanting a sneak peek. And with the sheet down around his hips? Oh, boy, he was beautiful: smooth skin poured over ripped muscle and solid bone. Stroking her free hand over his shoulder, she leaned away just a little. She needed more, a better view of his chest and the taut six-pack below.

  Myst froze mid-look. She frowned. The skin around his ribcage was pink. Not raw exactly. More like scalded, as though someone had poured hot water on him and—

  “Oh. My. God.” Planting her hand on his shoulder, she pushed, applying pressure. He rolled onto his back. She came up onto her knees, eyes searching his chest and belly. God, there was a strip of pink skin running from his ribcage to the top of his thigh. He’d been burned. She remembered now, and the memory made her frantic as her gaze ran over him. “You were hurt. I came out of the clinic and…God…Rikar brought you in and—”

  “I’m all right, Myst.”

  She shook her head, stripping the sheet all the way off him. Bastian grabbed for her hands. She avoided his grasp, checking his thigh and knee. He winced, muscles flexing up hard when she touched his shin. “Your leg. It’s broken and…” On her knees, she forgot about being naked and straddled his uninjured thigh. Looking around, she scanned the recovery room. “Where’s my bag? I need to—”

  “Baby, look at me.” Propping himself on one elbow, he cupped her face with his free hand. His touch stopped her in mid-flight, keeping her planted in the middle of the bed. As he met her gaze, he stroked her cheek, soothing her. “The bone is knitting. The burns are almost gone. By tonight, I’ll be good as new.”

  “But…how?” Her brows drawn tight, she stared at him. “How is that possible? I saw you. Your injuries…oh, my God, Bastian. They were terrible.”

  “I’m half dragon, love. My kind heals fast.”

  The reminder of what he was should’ve sent her running. Or at the very least, backed her up a step. Crazy that it didn’t. But all she saw was the man and the way he treated her. With respect, affection, and passion. The fact he wasn’t entirely human was less important…a bit of an afterthought. Hardly worth her attention at all.

  And wow. Go team Myst. Way to think outside the box.

  “Are you sure?” Still worried, she examined his side again. “I think I should check you anyway. Just to make sure and—”

  “How about I make you come instead?”

  Myst blinked. Well, okay. That effectively shut her up. And got her thinking, because…holy crap. That was the best offer she’d had in years. She bit her bottom lip, a little unsure, but mostly? Loving the idea of making love to him.

  It had been so long. Eons since she’d allowed anyone to touch her. And here she was, naked in bed with Bastian wanting her. She was so tempted, and he was…a freaking sex god or something. No way he could look and smell like he did if he didn’t have some powerful mojo working for him.

  Myst swallowed when his gaze dropped to her lips. He paused, his own mouth parting, his breath coming faster, his eyes drifting lower. He skimmed over her: first her breasts, then her belly, and finally, the curls between her thighs. Heat bloomed, pooling at her core as he licked his bottom lip as though he was im
agining what she tasted like there.

  Desire sent her sideways into the path of anticipation as his gaze returned to hers. She shivered, seeing the wildness in him—all the pleasure he promised without words. And as he reached out and curled his hand around her wrist, she leaned toward him instead of away. Allowed him to tug her off balance, onto her hands and knees above him.

  Still propped on one elbow, his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers, he taunted without touching. “Say yes.”

  Need made her lose her mind. It was the only explanation. The only reason she closed the distance between them. There were so many questions left unanswered. So many things she needed to know about him. About Dragonkind. But common sense had flown, and as her lips brushed his, Myst whispered the one word she never should have, “Yes.”

  As Myst leaned in, Bastian’s heart went jackrabbit, pounding the inside of his chest. Her trust floored him. The gentle brush of her mouth ruined him. And lust? Hell, that bastard lit his fire then poured gasoline on the flames.

  The result? Passion’s equivalent of a Molotov cocktail.

  Boom. Lights out. Good-fucking-night.

  Which wasn’t his MO at all. He was always in control with every female he spread beneath him. But not with Myst. She was different. Special in a way he found hard to describe, but felt just the same.

  Her hands on his skin. Her soft mouth against his. Her scent in every breath he took. Jesus. He couldn’t get enough.

  Inhaling hard, he dragged her into his lungs, struggling to keep it together. To let her touch him. To give her all the time she wanted to explore.

  But…oh, man.

  Each caress cranked him higher until nothing existed but him, her, and the wicked pleasure she gave him. Which was backward on every level that counted. He should be the one touching her, taking the lead—blowing her mind, making her beg—not the other way around.

  Except, he shouldn’t be making love to her at all.

  Not without telling her the truth of his kind. But he couldn’t stop kissing her. Couldn’t slow down long enough to tell her he had something important to say. His drive to please her had taken over, pushing him past the point of no return. Which was so unfair—to her, not him. She deserved the truth before he laid her down and loved her hard. Should know how much she meant to him.

  There were so many things he’d left unsaid. She had a right to know about the energy exchange. About how Dragonkind males sustained themselves. About what he took each time he touched her, but…

  Goddamn it. She tasted too good. Felt too right poised above him. And the current of energy flowing between them? The Meridian turned incendiary, burning a trail through his veins. And as Myst lit him up she linked in, completing the connection until energy flowed in a continuous loop, from her to him then back.

  Addicted to the power she wielded, Bastian moaned and, elbows planted on the bed, tipped his face up, seeking more of her. With a hum, she kissed him softly and, in that moment, he copped out. Knew he wasn’t going to tell her the truth about himself. Not now, when he had her naked in his arms.

  Fuck. Could he be any more of an asshole?

  Probably. But the fear of losing her made him that way. Rejection was a high-flying bitch without brakes. Once it was airborne, pain followed closely behind. No way would he risk it without making love to her first. Later. They would talk later…after he had the taste of her on his tongue and her scent on his skin.

  One afternoon with her would never be enough. He knew it, but didn’t care. A few hours were better than none at all. So, selfish or not, he would take her. Store the memories away to reach for another time just in case she never let him touch her again.

  Shifting his weight onto one elbow, he snaked his other arm around her. He drew her closer, smoothed his hand down her spine, then moved up again, exploring from hip to shoulder. God, she was exquisite. So beautiful with her lithe curves and pale skin. Brains and beauty. Softness and strength. Sheer perfection wrapped up in one female.

  His. Every magnificent inch of her.

  Bastian groaned as she tilted her head and deepened the kiss. The caress was slow, thorough, more exploratory than true conquest. So far. But it was only a matter of time. She would own him body and soul after this. Maybe she already did. He’d lost the battle the first time he’d laid eyes on her. In that crappy little house in the middle of nowhere.

  Ironic, wasn’t it?

  For all his physical strength, he was the weakest of their pairing. The most needy, the one begging without words to be taken…used hard and loved long. He wanted to be mastered—at the mercy of his female while she demanded everything from him. Hmm, he already craved the chains. Had opened his mouth wider, becoming slave to her conqueror when she flicked her tongue over his bottom lip, gifting him with a little taste and truckload of tease.

  “You like that?” She nipped him with the sharp edge of her teeth.

  Bastian’s muscles fisted up hard, curling his hips off the mattress. “More.”

  “How much more?”

  “Anything…all you want.”

  “Just the answer I was looking for.” Smiling against his mouth, she cupped the back of his arm. With a gentle tug, she slid his elbow from beneath him. “Lie back for me.”

  The instant his shoulder blades touched down, rustling on cotton, she delved deep, invading his mouth, rewarding him with her sweetness and…oh, man. She tasted decadent—like a summer storm, clean, driving rain and heat lightning—but it wasn’t enough. He needed her scent all over him, and his on her. Possession wasn’t good enough. Only domination would do…hers over him, his over her. He didn’t care as long as he ended up buried to the hilt inside her.

  In the next thirty seconds.

  With a groan, he tunneled his hands through her hair. Cupping the back of her head, he drank deep, eating at her mouth. Small hands pressed to his shoulders, she shifted, throwing one leg over to straddle him. His shaft kicked as she settled: knees on either side of his hips, the tips of her high, tight breasts brushing his chest, her tongue deep in his mouth.

  Spreading her thighs wider, she rocked against him. Her slick heat bathed his skin, arched his spine, pushed his hips up. Bliss bit deep then whiplashed, nailing him like a body shot to the chest. Fighting for control, his hands flexed in her hair. She rolled her hips again.

  Jesus. He wasn’t going to make it. Was losing control. She was too hot. So ready he felt her slide, wet and creamy, against his abdomen.

  “Myst…baby.” His erection pulsed. He arched, an instant away from orgasm. “I’m going to come. I can’t…Jesus…I’m going to…oh, fuck.”

  “Shh…settle down.”

  He drew a desperate breath, throbbing hard, on the verge and then—

  A miracle happened.

  His body calmed, obeying his female without question.

  Bastian shuddered. Holy shit. How had she done that…with nothing more than a whispered command? A moment ago, he’d been a nanosecond from losing it. Now? The urgency no longer ruled him. His fire was banked but burning…leaving him hard and ready, but in control again.

  Awed by her, Bastian whispered her name.

  She murmured back, praising him, and drew his hands out of her hair. His fingers twitched, and he growled as he lost contact with the silken waves. Using the pads of her thumbs, she stroked the insides of his wrists and pressed his arms above his head. “Keep them there. You don’t touch me until I tell you to…got it?”

  No way. Unfair. He shook his head. “I need—”

  “Got it?” She laced their fingers together. Brushing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, she pressed the backs of his hands into the mattress.

  “You’re killing me.”

  She smiled. “Give a little to get a lot. My way first…yours second.”

  Second? Forget that. Try third…maybe even fourth. Making love to her twice would never be enough. He nipped her bottom lip, protesting the conditions. But…if she wanted her way first, so be it. He’d get
what he needed before he let her go.

  “Deal?”

  “Devil’s bargain.” He rolled his hips against her bottom. She gasped and tipped her head back, riding the undulation. “I’ll make you pay for it later, bellmia.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  With a satisfied hum, she released her hold on him and retreated, taking her mouth from his. Which drove him crazy. In that moment, all he wanted was another taste of her, to tangle his tongue with hers and slide between her thighs.

  Oh, yeah. That’s exactly what he needed. Her beneath him. Him deep inside her.

  Forgetting his promise, Bastian followed her retreat.

  She pushed him back down. “A deal’s a deal, Bastian.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Um-hmm.” Her eyes full of mischief, she rocked her exquisite ass against his abdomen, giving him a magnificent view of her pink-tipped breasts as she shifted astride him. “We’ll get to that.”

  Please, God. He wouldn’t last much longer. Not if she kept—

  His muscles flexed as she trailed her fingers down the underside of his arms. Fingers spread wide, she continued down, caressing his chest, circling the hard points of his nipples. Bastian fisted his hand in the sheets. The little vixen. She was teasing, testing his resolve…pushing him past his limits into uncharted territory.

  He never submitted. Ever. But with Myst, he allowed the domination. Forced himself to endure her exploration while she discovered where he was most sensitive, made him arch and groan…and curse. But when she shifted down his body, inner thighs brushing the outside of his, leaned in and—

  Oh…Jesus.

  Her mouth touched down on his chest, right over his heart. He undulated beneath her, egging her on, enjoying the heat of her mouth on his skin. Delight followed each caress, shoving him into pleasure so intense that he could hardly breathe. It was torture, and he loved every second. She was a female worth worshiping, and as she bathed him in heat, he spoke to her in Dragonese, praising her in the language of his kind.

  “You’re so beautiful, Bastian.”