by Meara Platt
“Georgie.”
Her eyes flew open. The husky croon of his voice had startled her, for he was now standing right in front of her with his hands empty and an unmistakable ache in his voice as he spoke her name.
Obviously, he yearned for her as badly as she yearned for him.
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and nudged her up against his chest. “Stop me,” he said in whisper, “for this is madness.”
She circled her arms around his neck. Madness was in refusing this offered moment, this gift that held a wealth of promise. “I won’t. You’re my betrothed. I never released you from your marriage oath.”
“But your father must have. I’m sure he tore up the contract after my brother and I disappeared.” But he bent his head and crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that was exquisitely desperate and hungry.
She returned it with equal desperation, loving the heat and muscled tension of his body against hers, loving his unleashed passion. She had to make this moment one neither of them would ever forget. She wasn’t certain how to do it, for this would be her first attempt at seduction. “I don’t care what your father and mine decided afterward, my lord. I never tore up the contract. I never let you go. How can I ever let you go after knowing you now? My heart will break into a thousand pieces.”
Her words angered him, but that anger was mostly directed at himself for wanting her in the same way that she wanted him. “You must forget me, Georgie. I can only offer you danger and misery.”
“You could also offer me love.”
“No,” he said sharply, but he groaned and gave a little tug on the blanket to slip it off her body.
She let it fall to the ground and made no move to retrieve it.
His eyes darkened with passion as his gaze raked over her curves, for all of her was unashamedly open to his view. He sucked in a breath. “Sweet mercy, you’re so beautiful.” He drew her up against his hard body once again and pressed his mouth to hers with a possessive need.
His hands roamed over her bare shoulders and then slid down her back and hips. He groaned and then wrapped one of his hands around her waist while he cupped her breast with the other so that the weight of it rested in the palm of his hand.
He groaned once more, still holding her possessively as he rubbed his thumb across her breast and teased its straining bud. She gasped when he bent his head to close his mouth over it. His tongue swirled over her flesh. Mother in heaven.
Heat exploded within her most intimate depths and radiated throughout her body.
She ran her hands along the corded muscles of his neck. He was trying to hold back. She wanted to demolish his resistance.
He nudged her onto the bed and settled over her, the weight of his big body absorbed by his propped elbows. His mouth closed once again over the bud of her breast and he began to suckle and tease it with his tongue, his onslaught relentless and magical.
She cried out in pleasure.
She needed him, wanted him with a desperation that bubbled beneath her hot skin and turned her thickening blood to molten lava. “I want this,” she whispered, fearing he would hold himself back and draw away. “You’re the only one for me.”
But even as his hand slid between her legs, his fingers rubbing against her core, she knew he would not consummate their bond by taking his own pleasure with her.
She accepted all that he was willing to offer, her body turning to liquid heat at his knowing touch. “Georgie, my beauty,” he whispered in wonder.
She closed her eyes and took in each sensation, loving the warmth of his skin against hers and the honey scent of his own rising passion. With each touch and exquisite kiss, each dip of his head to taste and rouse her, she fell in love with him a little more. I love you. The words ached to slip from her lips, but she refused to let them pass. As it was, he hated his weakness in wanting her. He’d stop the magic and pull away from her if she spoke those very words he did not wish to hear.
He kissed her with a dragon’s passion, his mouth once more on hers as he heightened the pressure of his fingers against that intimate spot between her legs. She moaned, for the sensation was unbearably exquisite. Then he began to trail kisses down her body, first to the sensitive spot at the base of her throat, then down and across each breast, then lower until his lips covered the spot where his hands had been. Fireworks of sensation went off within her.
She knew his own dragon senses were taking in all of her, that need of his to remember the silky warmth of her skin and the heady scent of her. His need was driving him to conquer her despite the dangers to both of them. She wanted to taste him as well, to run her tongue along the muscles of his powerful body and take in the honeyed, salty taste of him.
She meant to respond, to be bold and put her mouth to his body, but she was now lightheaded and boneless and too lost in her own building pleasure to think of anything but the fiery swell of desire now consuming her.
And then the fire did consume her.
His flames. His lips. His taut, rough skin on hers. His gentle arms cradling her as she soared. “Thank you, Arik. My Arik.”
Wordlessly, he shifted their positions so that she now lay atop him. “Sleep, my beauty,” he whispered, covering them with his blanket. “We have a long walk ahead of us tonight.”
Chapter Ten
Bloodaxe stared down at the tempting morsel who was now sleeping soundly in his arms. Georgiana. How was he to keep her safe when she addled his senses? How was he to let her go when his dragon heart cried out to keep her by his side for all eternity?
He watched in fascination, unable to take his eyes off her beautifully expressive face. He’d watched her earlier as he’d roused the passion dormant within her all these years. Her eyes had taken on a gem-like sparkle, those deep green orbs shining as brilliantly as any star that ever shone in the English night sky. Even now, the upward tilt of her pink lips taunted him with their lush softness and tempted him to kiss her again.
And again.
Her breaths were calm and steady now, but he took pride in recalling her breathy moans and the urgent movements of her inexperienced body as he suckled the rosy buds of her breasts and tasted the heat of her essence.
He’d needed to savor her, to brand her into his memory.
No, that wasn’t quite right. He needed no reminder of Georgie. She’d been branded into his heart from their first meeting. What he’d felt was the dragon urge to mate with her and claim her for his own. “Get up, Georgie,” he said in a whisper. “Night is falling. Time for us to move on.”
She purred and stretched her lithe body that was curled around his hard torso. “So soon? But I just fell asleep.”
“You’ve been snoring for hours,” he teased. “Honking like a foghorn.”
“Oh, dear. I have? Did I keep you awake?” She drew the blanket primly about her as she hurriedly sat up.
“Don’t cover yourself, my beauty. Let me see you.” He drew her hands off the blanket so that it fell away from her body. Her skin was warm and pink. Her golden hair was a cascading mess, sticking up in spots and flat where she’d burrowed her head against his chest. Her eyes were heavily lidded and her lips were pouty.
She looked rumpled and deliciously sleepy.
His gaze moved lower and his dragon lust ignited.
Georgie had the ability to send him into a mating frenzy simply by being her innocent self.
By the Stone of Draloch! Did a more beautiful female ever exist?
A rustling sound directly outside had him rolling to his feet and grabbing Georgie along with him. Damn. Her clothes were in the kitchen. She had nothing but her soggy boots and the blanket she was once again hastily wrapping around her body with awkward and trembling hands. “Who’s out there?”
He shook his head to silence her and then motioned for her to put on her boots. She did so immediately, but didn’t have time to securely lace them before a foul scent began to permeate through the wood-planked walls. Brihann’s scouting party. They�
�d somehow picked up his and Georgie’s scent and it had led them straight here.
How many were there?
Perhaps eight demons in all, assuming this was the same scouting party they’d avoided earlier.
He donned his boots and grabbed his battle axe, noticing Georgie’s eyes widen at the sight of the massive axe he so casually held in his grip. He put a finger to his lips to warn her to keep silent and then placed one of his daggers in her hands before drawing her behind him. It was his smallest weapon and wasn’t enough to keep her safe. But she hadn’t the strength to wield a bigger one.
Yet, he had to give her something with which to defend herself, for drawing her behind him wouldn’t be enough to assure her safety. He didn’t know where else to put her. There was nowhere to hide in this simple cottage.
He heard more rustling as the demon scouts surrounded them. They’d burst through the door and windows to come at them from all directions.
He was ready for battle when they did just that, shattering glass and splintering wood as they lunged for him and Georgie, their howls and screeches filling the air, along with their foul odor.
“Georgie, do your best to keep behind me,” he ordered, knowing it was no easy task, for he was whirling and smashing his axe into soft, demon heads and frog-like bodies, leaving a splattered mess. Three downed with his first swings. He swung again and killed two more.
Only three left.
They sprang at him all at once, their talons and sharp teeth bared. He stunned them with one hefty swing that struck all three of them, and then dispatched them with precise, killing blows.
In less than a minute, all eight demons lay dead at his feet.
He could have killed them faster had he transformed into a dragon and released his fire, but he had no need to use his magic. He’d done it easily with mere brute force. He was not even breathing heavily as he turned to Georgiana to make certain she was unharmed.
She gaped back at him, her eyes wide and filled with fear. He reached out to touch her, but she surprised him by drawing back. “I didn’t have to raise my dagger.” She emitted a ragged breath. “They never got near me.”
Was she complimenting him for his prowess? In truth, it wasn’t much of a battle. His daily training took more effort. But no, she regarded him with horror, as though seeing the beast within him for the very first time. “This is what I am, Georgie.”
“I know.”
“No time to clean up this mess now. I’ll send Thomas here afterward.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the kitchen where her clothes and his shirt were still draped over the chairs untouched. “Get dressed. Grab a little of that sausage fruit to break your fast. Eat it quickly. We need to get as far away from here as possible.”
She obeyed his command, but was slower than he would have liked. It wasn’t her fault that her hands were shaking and she was obviously distraught. He didn’t understand why this attack should leave her pale and feeling worse than the others before it. He wanted to ask her why, but not yet. They needed to run and would only be slowed down if she were tearfully chattering and stumbling along.
Most of all, he didn’t want to dwell on her revulsion of him and what he’d just done. She was in the wrong. He’d saved her life. Those demons would have ripped her sweet, innocent body apart. That she now looked upon him as no better than their attackers wounded his heart. Curse the fates that had left him a tattered shred of that feeling organ. Well, his heart was truly beyond mending now.
He turned her none too gently to face away from him and quickly laced up her gown. Then he turned her back toward him and bent to securely lace her boots. Her hair was still a glorious tumble, but there was no time to secure it now. He tucked his dagger into the belt of her gown. She’d need that weapon later. “Let’s go.”
While she had struggled to don her clothes and grab a bite to eat, he’d quickly slipped his shirt on, cleaned off his battle axe, and belted it to his hip. He now grabbed his crossbow and quiver of arrows and slung them over his shoulder.
Losing patience in the face of her continued silence, he scowled and lifted her into his arms once more, carrying her over the kitchen floor that was strewn with shattered glass and splintered wood, to the threshold.
He set her down once they were outdoors and then took her hand. The red sky was darkening and would be ink-black within moments. He’d brought her this far along and did not intend to lose her on this leg of their journey. That she might flee from him hadn’t crossed his mind until now, and it curdled his insides to know this thought was surely rattling around in her brain.
So much for her talk of love.
Love was not all powerful and eternal.
Love wouldn’t change a damn thing.
They walked in silence for hours until she finally broke it with a sigh. “You’re still angry with me.”
No, he was angry with himself for believing there could be a happy outcome to his fate. He was even angrier with himself for stubbornly wanting her with an ache that filled the empty cavities of his heart. “I’m not angry.”
“Then you’re disappointed in me.” Her voice was soft and ragged with remorse.
He grunted and paused in their hike. “It doesn’t matter how either of us feels now, does it? The damage has been done, Georgie. We had our moment and are both eager to move ahead to our separate destinies.”
“Separate?” She inhaled lightly. “You don’t want me?”
“By the Stone of Draloch, why are we discussing this? You’re the one who showed utter disgust with me. You’re the one who now cringes at my touch.”
She tugged on his hand. “Are you mad? How can you possibly think that?”
He shook his head and grunted again in disbelief, knowing they should stop talking and move on. The sooner they reached the Razor Cliffs, the sooner she’d be rid of him. “You gave it away by recoiling as I approached you. The look of horror mingled with disgust that you graced me with after I’d slain those demons was another clue.”
“I was horrified by my own ineptitude and disgusted with myself for allowing fear to numb my limbs and render me useless to you. What if you had needed my help? I couldn’t lift that small dagger much less thrust it at any attacker. I wasn’t prepared. Fortunately, you protected me once again. I was, as I said, useless to you. I’m so sorry, my lord.”
His heart shot into his throat. “Don’t apologize to me, Georgie. You have nothing for which to be sorry.”
She tugged lightly on his hand again. “But I failed you.”
He held back the urge to roar with laughter. He was a fool. So much for reading her thoughts. He’d read her completely wrong. “Your strength is not in your physical might. You’re little and have no muscles to speak of. But don’t ever doubt that there is a remarkable power in you.”
She pursed her lips and tsked to dismiss his words. “I have no idea what power you are talking about. I certainly haven’t shown any. Are we friends again?”
He arched an eyebrow. “We were never friends. I doubt a word exists to describe what we are to each other.”
“No, I suppose not. But I don’t know what else to call us.”
He resumed walking, making certain to keep her hand securely in his as he once more hurried their pace. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. We are more than friends but less than dragon mates. I’m not even a dragon. And I don’t know that I would count as an innocent now that… what we did earlier. You know. I liked that part very much.”
It was dark, but he could see her cheeks glow like crimson torchlights in the night. The last of his bile and anger fled from him, quickly replaced by his stirring dragon lust. She’d been so exquisitely responsive to his touch. “Ah, that part. So did I, my beauty. So did I.”
*
Georgie was exhausted by the time the two moons began their ascent into the red sky. They must have been walking for close to ten hours, much of it over hills that felt more like mountains during the u
pward climb, and climbing was difficult to do in her gown. Not to mention having to struggle all the while in the dark.
She didn’t know where they would hide today, but was tired enough to drop down anywhere and promptly fall asleep. Fatigue even overcame her hunger. “Where will we stop?”
Lord Bloodaxe scanned the horizon, his gaze keen and assessing like that of a hawk. Or a dragon on the prowl. “There,” he said, pointing to a crude, stone outcropping that made the hunting cottage they’d left hours ago seem like a great manor house in comparison. “This is all the shelter I dare risk. There’s another of my hunting lodges not too far from here. I had Thomas quietly clean it out and stock it with food. But I think it’s too dangerous to sleep there now. I’ll settle you beside the outcropping first and then go to the lodge to retrieve our food.”
Despite her fear of being left alone even for a short time, she nodded. “Any chance he hid a lavender soap and a clean change of clothes for us there?”
Lord Bloodaxe managed an upward twitch of his lips. “Perhaps a change of clothes, but there shall be no scented soaps for you, my beauty. Brihann’s demons are prowling all over my lands and will easily pick up the scent of lavender on your body. You smell far too delicious as it is.”
She shook her head and laughed. “I must reek as badly as those demons. And kindly do not refer to me as delicious. I have no wish to be their next meal.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Hmm, tasty.”
“I’m little and bony and will starve if I don’t eat soon.” She would have to content herself with another cold meal to fill her belly, but didn’t mind. They were being hunted and needed to remain hidden. Perhaps he might return with a pouch of water. She could use a little of it to rinse away the demon stench that pervaded the air around them.
“Georgie,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her closer. “The Razor Cliffs are just over that distant rise. We’ll reach it by tomorrow, unless we’re caught.”
“We won’t be.” She had faith in him, although it seemed he was less confident at the moment.