Soon.
I felt his presence rather than heard him when he finally entered. Slowly, I turned. A familiar silhouette moved in the shadows, silver eyes glinting. He circled the dining room table, angling closer to me. My gaze moved with him. Self-defense rule number one: never let the attacker have your back. And yes. He was going to attack. No doubt.
He moved past a wall sconce, the flame revealing his magnificent nude body. I swallowed hard. Kol didn’t play games. He’d made me a promise, and he was wasting no time fulfilling it.
The air crackled, an electrical charge sizzling in the air. I’d sensed this before. The night Lorian lost it at dinner. A symptom of the dragon rising to the surface.
“You know my alarm code.” I was shocked at the steady tenor of my voice. Not at all how I felt as the predator prowled ever closer.
“Of course.” As expected, his voice rumbled like thunder, more beast than man.
I knew what I looked like to him—standing tall with the night sky at my back, barefoot, wine glass in hand, wearing nothing but a sheer piece of fabric clinging to every curve.
A click of the remote and the glass wall tinted black. No one could see in. I swallowed hard. Desire and a little trepidation flared at his intent.
Of course I wanted him. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, deny that anymore. Not even to myself. My blood rushed at the mere thought of his hands on my body. Still, I was never one to give in so easily. I never thought of myself as one of those women who played hard-to-get, but some inner demon wanted to provoke him. My defenses had mellowed with the wine, loosening my tongue. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea, Kol. This could muddle things in our investigation. I’m not so sure I want—”
His attack was fierce and fast. Knocking my wine glass clear away, I was pinned hard before it crashed to the floor. Cool glass at my back, his hand fisted in my hair, arching my neck just enough to meet his gaze. His other hand gripped my hip in a vise, his chest pressed to mine. A sconce above us flickered a pale flame, revealing his intensely serious expression.
“You severed ties with your father because he sought to lord over you. You left that Lennox boy because he wasn’t man enough to handle you.”
How did he know? I stared, mouth agape, unable to speak.
“I’ll tell you what you want, Moira.” His hand released my hip. Long fingers wrapped my nape, his thumb resting below my jaw, the other still clenched in my hair. “You want to be possessed, but not controlled. You want to be protected, but not smothered. You want to be dominated, but only in one way.”
He stroked his thumb down my chin, forcing my mouth open. I couldn’t form a thought, mesmerized by silver-fire and sensuous lips drawing closer. I slid my hands up his chest. I let one hand drift down to his waist, his hip, sliding over bare skin.
I gulped, my mouth bone-dry.
A fully nude Kol had me pressed against the glass. Though I was quite sure I already knew the answer, I could only think to ask him one thing.
“What—” Quick, unsteady breaths. “What do you want?”
His mouth curved into a wicked half-smile as he whispered against my lips. “I’m burning for you, Moira. An inferno flares inside every time you come near me.” He traced his tongue over my bottom lip. “I won’t go up in flames alone.” He ground out the words. “You’re going to burn with me. That’s what I want.”
Then he took my mouth, showing me what it meant to be set on fire.
Aggressive didn’t describe the way he worked me with his mouth and tongue, his fist tightening in my hair. A soft moan lingered at the back of my throat. He moved to my jaw, my neck, descending, teeth grazing a trail. A strong hand skimmed over the layer of silk—rounding my hip, dipping at my waist, sliding up my ribcage, mounding my heaving breast. His thumb circled the peak as he continued to suck and nip my neck. Heat flared down low.
“This skin. Like porcelain. I want to mark every inch as mine.”
“Why,” I managed to breathe out. “Because I belong to you?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t be enslaved by anyone. Not even you.”
A gravelly chuckle from the belly of the beast. He gripped the bodice of my gown and ripped it in half, letting the shredded silk pool at my feet. I gaped as he dropped to his knees, big hands spreading and holding my thighs apart against the glass. I uttered a cry when his mouth opened on me.
“Kol!” I grabbed his shoulders.
I tried to buck away, my core too sensitive for his hot mouth. But he was immovable, determined to taste me, licking to his beastly heart’s content. There was no moving this man when he wanted something.
I gripped the arch of one wing to hang on, the bone thick and strong under soft, leather-like casing, making me think of another appendage on him, hard and covered in silken skin. I moaned. His teeth grazed. I tightened my grip on his wing, making him growl. He flicked his tongue, doing wonderful, wicked things. My head fell back against the glass wall, city life buzzing far below. Unable to control my body, I squeezed his shoulder, claws digging in, as I came harder than I ever had in my entire life, my hips undulating. I felt wanton and free, and I wanted more. So much more.
“Kol,” I breathed on a sigh. “Inside me.”
My knees buckled. Before I fell to the floor, he swept me into his arms and draped me on a chaise lounge on my back. No more words. Kneeling at the end, he pulled me by the ankles till my bum was at the edge.
Though his silver eyes and aggressive manner proved the beast had full control, he stilled, slowing himself. He skimmed his palms down the back of my thighs, bending my legs and gripping at the crook behind my knees. Spreading my legs wider, he nudged my entrance and sank in a fraction. He showed me how swollen he was for me, easing inside with a rumbling groan. I sucked in a sharp breath, his thickness stretching me to pleasure-pain. He inched all the way in, stopping only when he was sheathed to the hilt.
“Kol.” I could think of nothing to say but his name. He filled me—physically, mentally, emotionally. All I could feel around me, as blood thrummed through my veins, my heart speeding away, was the powerful presence of, “Kol.”
I reached up, skimming my hands along his ridged abdomen, across the planes of his broad chest, rounding his shoulders, and pulled him down to me.
Breathing labored and hot, mingling with my own, his voice vibrated against my skin. “From the second I laid eyes on you”—he slid out achingly slow, letting me feel every glorious inch—“this is where I longed to be”—he slammed hard and fast, just once, our thighs slapping—“deep inside you.”
He held me there, my body sealed around him, tight as a glove, silver eyes boring into mine.
I rolled my pelvis up to meet him. “Give me more.”
He gave it to me, pulling out slow and thrusting hard, steadily increasing until he pumped at a merciless rhythm. I clawed my hands into the sofa cushions, trying to hold on as he pounded into me again and again. Each time harder than the first.
I had no notes of comparison to Mikal. There was no comparing Kol to him. There was no comparing Kol to any man—Morgon or human. He ruled in a realm all his own. Right now, he ruled over me. And he knew it.
When he abruptly pulled out, I whimpered in protest, breathless and panting.
“Deeper,” he growled, flipping me over with swift ease.
Deeper? He’d lost his mind. So had I.
Lifting me to all fours on the chaise, his broad hands slid along my waist to my hips. I heard his wings whip out to full extension, raising him to his feet behind me. One palm slid up my spine, pressing between my shoulder blades. He flattened my upper torso to the sofa cushion, then curled his fingertips over the curve between shoulder and neck. He gripped my hip hard as he pushed into me again, slow at first as my body accepted him. He ground against me with each pounding thrust. Marking me as only he could. I felt lightheaded from the intensity, unable to breathe as he entered me deeper and deeper.
Walls crumbled as he pushed my senses into oblivion. Barriers of stone and steel and my stubborn iron will collapsed into dust and gravel. As my body soared to his bidding, a revelation gripped me hard, repeating in my mind.
I belong to him.
He slowed, leaning forward to press his chest to my back, pulling me flush against him. One hand cupped my breast. The other slipped between my legs, two fingers sliding up and down my slick cleft, caressing me till I moaned his name.
“You got it all wrong, Moira,” he whispered, his fingers matching the slow rhythm of his shaft inside me. “I am the slave.” He thrust a little harder. “Every waking moment, I see you, smell you, want you.” His fingers continued to caress and pinch softly, my senses reeling with pleasure. “I’m afraid once I feel you come with me so deep inside…your body clenching around me…I’ll be lost forever…powerless to escape.”
I reached back with both hands, one on his hip, the other wrapping his neck. Arching my spine, I rocked back against him, pushing him even deeper. He groaned like a desperate man lost at sea. He clung to me as if I were the only thing keeping him from drowning. A fine sheen of sweat made our bodies slide over and into each other, wave after wave of pleasure pushing us closer to the edge.
I turned my head, whispering into his ear. “Come with me, Kol. We’ll be lost together.”
I bit his earlobe and he came. Hard. His pulsing shaft ripping an orgasm from my body and a scream from my throat. He didn’t let go, clenching me tighter as he spilled into me, a thunderous growl vibrating from his chest. For that brief moment, I understood what it meant to be consumed by another. My body, my will, my entire being was encased within the control of one man. And my heart soared at the euphoric sensation.
Minutes later, breathing heavily, still clutched in his arms, neither of us spoke a word. He pulled out of me, and I whimpered at the loss. Hauling my limp body into his arms, he carried me through the dark house to the bedroom, tucking us both into the guest bed. Curled around me from behind, we lay there in silence, both our thoughts too loud to let us sleep. I finally couldn’t take it anymore. “What are you thinking?” I whispered.
No answer. I thought he might have fallen asleep after all, but then he spoke, shocking me with vulnerable, honest words. “I’m afraid of never waking again without wanting you. Needing you.”
His arm tightened around my waist. I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut, knowing with bone-deep certainty I feared the same thing. “Is that really something to fear?”
“Yes.”
Another honest answer. Another wall crumbled.
“I need you like I need to breathe, Moira. Like I need to fly.”
Was it the dark that made him speak words he never would in the light? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. It was enough that he’d said them.
I turned in his arms and cupped his face, tracing my fingers lightly over his raised scar. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew he could see my face with his dragon sight as if it were daytime. I let my eyes shine with a hope I knew he would understand.
“Like Morgons, I don’t date, either.” My fingers traced to the tip of his scar. “Nor am I the kind to sleep around to satisfy carnal cravings.” I trailed lightly over his lips. “I need you, too, Kol.”
I pressed my lips to his, prying them apart to slip my tongue inside. I kissed him the way a lover would kiss her mate. Boldly, shamelessly, like a woman who knows her right.
“I want you,” he grumbled. “Again.” Heavy hand on my waist.
His desire grew hard against my abdomen. I crooked my leg over his hip, opening for him. “Then take me.”
And so he did.
Chapter 18
I rolled over to find him gone. With the terrace door sealed shut, I couldn’t tell what time it was. My comm sat on his pillow, blinking a green light. An audio message.
Propping up on my elbows, I pulled the device to me. The time read 10:33 a.m. in the top corner.
“Damn. Talk about oversleeping.”
I played the message.
“Good morning.” Kol’s deep rumble.
I couldn’t help the silly smile from creeping across my face.
The recording continued. “I didn’t want to wake you. Thought you might need your rest.”
Boy, did I.
“I didn’t get the chance to speak to you about my visit with Petrus last night. Lucius can fill you in till I return. I must meet with the Morgon Guard immediately. You’re safe to move freely within the Nightwing Tower, but don’t—”
He stopped himself. He heaved in a deep breath and sighed. His voice lost the note of tyranny, morphing to something gentler. “Please, Moira. Please don’t leave this building. I will return as soon as I can.”
“Not a problem, Captain.”
Too tired to go to class or report to work, I thought a sick day was definitely in order. I stretched my body in the bed.
Before we had sex, I’d been able to pretend our attraction was just physical. Chemical. After last night, I could no longer believe this to be true. Nor did I want to.
But one thing puzzled me. I knew soulfire burned inside him. For me. He’d made his feelings quite clear. But he hadn’t sad a word about it. Not that I was ready to leap into such an irreversible commitment, but I still wanted to know why he hadn’t mentioned soulfire. Could I be wrong?
I scooted out of the covers and stood up. “Ow.”
I was sore. Everywhere. My Morgon man had loved me long and hard. I smiled as I remembered and walked stiffly to the bathroom. Peeking at myself in the mirror, I laughed. Even my lips were sore. Swollen from many, many rough kisses, not one of which I regretted. I had a mammoth-sized hickey bite-mark on the slope of my shoulder. “Now, that’s a doozy.”
Strangely, the only thing not sore was the stitched injury from two nights ago. I lingered in a hot shower, then slipped into my favorite jeans and a comfy rose-colored sweater. After braiding my damp hair into a tidy rope down my back, I rummaged through my drawer and found the silver case I’d hardly ever opened except to take it to the firing range. Popping open the lock, I pulled out the sleek Volt handgun I’d packed.
About a century ago, the Volt gun was a weapon specifically designed by the Wellington Manufacturing Company in Primus to kill Morgons . While my father held animosity toward Morgons, the Wellington family openly despised every one of them. Because of their powerful political sway in Primus, they’d kept desegregation laws from ever passing in the human-only city out west. A Volt gun worked by using a Morgon’s dragon DNA against them. Because of their dragon lineage, electricity voltage amplified the electric energy coursing through their blood and harnessed in their bones. A Volt gun essentially launched an electric missile, detonating on impact with a Morgon’s natural DNA. Although the blast could kill a human by heart failure, most could survive a direct hit. A Morgon definitely could not.
My father had insisted I take the gun and practice shooting on the range when he learned I was venturing into Morgon territory to investigate stories. Though I never went anywhere I knew to be too dangerous, Father still worried about my sense of self-preservation. After seeing The Herald icon carved into Layla’s skin, I had decided it was time to keep it close. Especially with Kol away. Strapping the harness around my waist against my skin, I then made sure the safety button was on and tucked it in place. My long sweater hid the harness. I didn’t want to frighten Julian. For one, he would be terrified to learn why I felt the need to carry it. Two, he’d want an explanation of what the Volt gun did. I’d keep him from learning about the blind hatred of the world as long as I could. And three, he was a good kid, but also a mischievous one. If he saw it, he’d want to play with it, regardless of the danger.
My stomach rumbling, I meandered upstairs via the elevator to see what leftovers Ruth might have lying about.
Two brawny Nightwing Security guards stood outside the door in the foyer. The one with hunter-green wings and short-cropped ha
ir gave me a tight nod.
“You’re clear to enter, Ms. Cade.” He tapped a code into the alarm panel on the wall. His eyes swept to the mark on my neck before gliding away just as fast. The other guard stepped visibly away from me, avoiding my gaze altogether. Weird.
“Uh, thank you.”
As soon as the door closed behind me, I heard the alarm reset. Shuffling into the kitchen, I found Ruth rolling out some dough on a marble cutting board, flour dusted on her apron.
“Good morning.”
She glanced up and out the window, the sun high overhead. “Well, now. It’s nearly noon. Don’t know that it’s morning anymore.”
“Right.” I smiled. “Ruth, you wouldn’t happen to have some of that delicious dinner left from last night, would you?”
She arched a brow at me, pounding her rolling pin right to left, then up and down, then the other way again. “I’m afraid not. But as soon as I get this crust on the chicken pies, I’ll whip you up a bacon and cheese omelet.”
My stomach growled just thinking about it.
“Seems you need sustenance sooner rather than later.”
“Thank you. Yeah. Much appreciated.” I ducked back into the living room to avoid her scrutinizing looks of I-know-what-you-did-last-night.
My sister walked into the room from the bedroom quarters. “There you are.” She smiled, stopping in her tracks when her eyes saw my neck. “Whoa. Someone was a little…aggressive.”
Self-consciously, I touched the mark, knowing my concealer did little, if nothing, to hide it.
“Sit down, sister,” she ordered, pointing to the sofa. “We need to talk.”
I didn’t resist. Now that I’d settled in my mind I wanted more than a fling with Kol, I didn’t care who knew we’d crossed that line.
“Spill it.”
I folded my legs under me and snuggled a pillow into my lap. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Jessen threw her head back with a hearty laugh. “Um. Yeah. There definitely is. Kol has marked you in a way that screams to everything with a penis to back-the-fuck-off. And from what I can gather by your mood, you’re pleased about it. There’s butt loads to tell. So let’s hear it.”
Waking the Dragon Page 18