Pursuing Flight: A Dragon Spirit Novel: Book 4

by C. I. Black

  The moment they separated, searing agony and the roar of voices slammed into him. Becca gasped and grabbed her head. A tremor swept through her body then another, stronger than the first, each shake slicing white lightning into Nero.

  He seized her hand and the voices and pain vanished, leaving only Becca with her lurching thoughts, gasping against the pain.

  Holy Mother! This wasn’t good. They wouldn’t be able to do anything if her telepathy didn’t ease up.

  “Please tell me the new guy’s magic will wear off soon.” Her eyes were too big and her fear cut into her determination, making his chest ache even more.

  “I don’t know.” And Mother, he never wanted to feel that again.

  “Agreed.” She drew in a ragged breath then another, and her thoughts squeezed around his essence until it was hard to breathe.

  One thing at a time. Baby steps. Don’t lean into him. Don’t kiss him. Make a list, prioritize, break the problem into manageable pieces. Her will tightened even more as she focused on the problem, pushing everything else aside. This was the woman who’d led men into battle, who’d kept calm under sniper fire while injured.

  “Our first priority is your healing,” she said, her brusque tone belying her whirling thoughts and emotions. “We should get you in the tub and then start to figure everything else out. If we have to be in contact to keep the voices under control, then I’m going in the tub with you.” And I won’t get distracted, no matter how hot he is with his shirt off… or how much she wanted to see the rest of him… touch the rest of him—

  He’d be flattered if the situation wasn’t so awkward. “You can sit on the edge. Fully clothed.” Surely he could control himself if they just held hands.

  Disappointment flooded her, and his grip on her hand instinctually tightened. Her gaze jumped to his, realization flashed in her eyes, and a blush swept over her cheeks. “Wow, you heard that. I have no idea what’s wrong with me.” But I do. I want you.

  “It’s me. It’s my fault.” He rose, his legs trembling for a second before he steadied himself then helped her stand. “It has to be my soul bond influencing you.” But a part of him hoped it was more than that.

  She met his gaze.

  Shit. She’d heard that.

  “I’m not thinking straight,” he said.

  Maybe you are, and right now it doesn’t matter. Maybe I shouldn’t take advantage of your condition.

  “Maybe we’re both confused.” But he knew he wasn’t confused. His soul knew exactly what it wanted, and it wanted her. However he could get her… preferably in his bed.

  Becca raised an eyebrow.

  And she heard that, too. Wonderful. “Let’s get me in the tub and figure out what we need to do next.” We can be adults about this.

  “Adults. Yes.” Sex is off the table. Her gaze jumped to his antique writing desk by the window. Not sturdy enough. Her attention shot back to him, and her face turned red. “Oh, my God! Sorry.” Stop teasing him… and yourself.

  “Okay.” He grabbed her by both shoulders and met her gaze as a shiver of need churned in his gut. Not going to think about the counter in the bathroom or the desk in my office— “Moratorium on apologies. I’m influencing how you feel. I won’t take any of your thoughts personally, and I’ll try to keep a leash on mine.”

  Not sure your thoughts are the problem. Her gaze slipped behind him to the bed. “You think you can do that?”

  “Probably not, but if I don’t try, we’re going to end up stuck in the middle of my bedroom apologizing to each other for who knows how long until the surge’s power wears off.”

  Or we could satisfy the problem. “Sorry.”

  “Not taking it personally, remember?” No matter how much his inner drake wanted to purr.

  Mother, now he really knew he was inamorated. Purring was the one sure sign a dragon soul had picked its mate. If he hadn’t known before, he certainly knew now.

  And not something he was supposed to be thinking about.

  He switched his grip to her hand and led her into his en suite bathroom. It was a modest-sized space, clean and masculine, with black tiles around the walk-in shower and two-person tub, white everything else, and chrome fixtures. He turned on the hot and cold taps on the tub all the way, to fill as fast as possible, but then paused, his mind stuck on the next step: his pants.

  Becca’s gaze slid to his fly, and his heart skipped a beat.

  “I should keep these on.” Even if the bath would be more effective without them. He wasn’t shy. He just didn’t want to make an awkward situation worse.

  “How about I not look.” Yes, please. Take them off. Her grip around his hand tightened, and he couldn’t tell if it was her pulse racing or his.

  Her other hand brushed across his abs to his heart, drawing a shiver of need, and a purr bubbled in his throat.

  “I think it’s best if they stay on,” he forced out. I’m not going to take advantage of her.

  “Will it achieve the goal of healing you as fast as possible?” she asked, her voice husky. She knew from his thoughts it wouldn’t.

  “I think we need to find a balance between healing and—” Succumbing to the soul bond. He wasn’t going to survive this. The inamoration was too new, the need to seal the bond too strong. If he could just get some distance, perhaps she’d know for certain if her desire was his or hers.

  “No.”

  His thoughts stuttered. He had no idea what she was saying no to.

  “You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me.”

  But my thoughts? Our connection? She couldn’t be thinking straight.

  “My thoughts are straight enough. I don’t know if I’m inamorated back.” She released his hand and pressed her other palm beside the first, the heat from her body flooding him and making his pulse roar. “I don’t know if a human can be inamorated. But I do know, at this moment, there’s something between us and as much as it’s a bad idea, I want it.” She pursed her lips. I need it.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. Our bond— my bond has to be influencing you.”

  “Yes… maybe? I don’t know. God, this is such a bad idea.” Her gaze locked with his and her body leaned closer, belying her refusal. “If I’m not inamorated back, you’re going to get hurt.”

  “You’re confused,” he growled, forcing his hands to stay at his sides and not wrap her in an embrace.

  Not about wanting the peace I get from being with you. I’m steady with you.

  You weren’t earlier this evening when I asked you about your injuries.

  My magic is steady. The voices are quiet. Sadness crept into her expression. “It’s selfish, I know.” I want you to help me forget everything that’s happened, to not hear all those voices, and, if only for a moment, just be. “You’re the only one who’s been able to quiet the voices. But this will hurt you. I know from the memories I got from the monsters— I know this will hurt you.” I can be strong and prevent his grief.

  His heart aching with hers, he gave in and wrapped an arm around her back, drew her tight against his body, and pressed his forehead against hers. “Giving you what you want will never hurt me.”

  Liar. You’re terrified I’ll leave.

  I am. “I’m also terrified you’re in pain, that I won’t be able to help you, that you won’t have the life you deserve.” With or without me at your side. “If you’re not inamorated back, I will fight to win you. If you reject me, I will respect that decision.” A purr rumbled in his chest. Every cell in his being burned with the need to fulfill her request. Now. Anything else past this moment didn’t matter. He’d deal with it when the time came. At the moment, he could ease her pain and remind her that she was loved and worthy and whole.

  29

  Becca’s heart swelled with his love and desire. “You don’t deserve to have your heart broken again.” Every time he’d thought about being inamorated, she’d always sensed grief. It was muted, as if years had passed, but the grief was still there… except
she wasn’t sure if the grief was for what had been or what could be between them.

  Which only made her more certain that giving in to her craving, to use Nero to forget herself and everything that had happened, was a bad idea. No matter how much her insides squirmed for more than just his embrace.

  A mix of emotions tightened his eyes and swept through their mental connection, grief and resignation, but also awe and yearning.

  “This isn’t something you can control. It’s not like a human infatuation.” His gaze dipped to her lips, and her pulse skipped a beat. “Even if you left me right now, my soul would crave you. I would never move on. There would never be another.” Not, at least, for two thousand years. Except she sensed even that wouldn’t happen now.

  “This is stronger than before, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” His dark gaze grew intense, boring into her as if he could see her soul and feeding the flames of her desire. All that power, wrapping around her, filling her, anchoring her within herself.

  It’s like lava burning through my veins, he said, his mental voice thick with need. My soul has chosen. Even if you’re not inamorated back, giving you what you crave won’t cause a greater hurt. It will satisfy your desires. “Let me satisfy you.”

  Her pulse skipped a beat and her mouth went dry. His gaze held her essence, and she trembled with a need that was mirrored in his eyes. The heat from his flesh under her palms seeped over her arms and pooled low in her body, and the crackle of invisible energy, his impossible magic, tingled over her skin.

  “Yes,” she breathed, and the word zinged like lightning through her and him, heightened by their mental connection.

  He hissed, a whip of wind gusted to life and turned off the tub’s taps, then his mouth crushed against hers with a hunger that fueled her longing. This was right, what she needed, what he needed as well.

  A growl— no, a purr rumbled in his chest, vibrating into her hands and resonating with the core of her soul. His grip on her back tightened and his other hand tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss.

  Heat seared through her. His mouth plundered hers, his lips hungry with the ferocious passion that had radiated around him from the first time she’d seen him. She was on fire, her skin blazing, the magic in his soul sparking over her.

  Her back hit the counter, his hand left her hair, and he captured her hips. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her up. She grabbed the waistband of his pants, tugged him between her thighs, and wrapped her legs around him, sliding herself against his erection. A shudder of need swept through him and into her. His hands slipped under her hoodie and tank top and brushed an agonizingly slow whisper of fingers against her skin, over her waist and up her ribs.

  Too gentle. Too slow. She wanted hot, fast, hard. Needed it to burn through the memories haunting her, as well as to scorch away her fear and his. Yes, he was inamorated, and this was what he craved — she felt that sure and solid from their connection — but she also felt the fear he fought to acknowledge. A fear about the truth that, even if by some kind of miracle she was inamorated back, she still had a human lifespan.

  She arched into him, drawing a groan from him.

  “Too much thinking,” she said against his lips.

  “What if I was thinking that you’re wearing too much clothing?” His fingers splayed over her ribs as his thumbs grazed her nipples with another teasing whisper of a touch.

  Her breath hitched, and he trailed his lips down her neck to her collarbone as his thumbs teased her again.

  “What if I said I wanted my mouth here.” Another graze, sending electricity zinging from her breasts straight to her core.

  Yes. God, yes.

  But his hands slipped out from under her hoodie.

  “Did I not make myself clear?” She clenched her legs tighter, pressing him to her.

  “You did.” He unzipped her hoodie.

  She shrugged out of it, and he grabbed the bottom of her tank top and pulled it off over her head. His gaze trailed up her naked chest, but his mouth tightened when his eyes reached her shoulder where her tattoo trailed over and among her scars.

  I’m sorry for that.

  You didn’t shoot me or blow up my tactical transport. But the memory made her shiver, and her stomach tightened. She didn’t want to remember. For the love of God, all she wanted was a moment to be herself again, to forget everything that had happened, to bathe in the ferocity of this man’s passion. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t actually a man. It was his spirit that counted, and he was driven by the same things that drove her: a need to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

  She met his gaze, letting his dark eyes and ferocious energy capture her. You promised satisfaction.

  I did. He captured her lips again in a hungry kiss, his hands sliding over her ribs, his thumbs tortuously skimming the edges of her breasts, then his lips followed. They trailed a blazing line down her skin to one nipple then the other, laving, sucking, fueling the fire within her that burned all memory and thought away.

  He tugged at her leggings. She lifted so he could pull them and her panties off, then captured him again between her legs, needing the hard heat of him against her, but he slipped a hand between them and stroked her. Glorious lightning snapped through her and stole her breath.

  She gripped the counter to keep her balance, tipped her head back, and closed her eyes, letting the sensation flood her. Yes, oh, yes. This was what she needed.

  Another purr rumbled through him, and he slid two fingers inside her, drawing another moan. His thumb brushed her clit, sending more lightning shuddering through her. Her breath hitched, and he tangled his free hand in her hair and captured her lips again with a scorching kiss. His fingers drove inside, and his thumb rubbed her, the movement growing faster and harder, driving her closer and closer to orgasm.

  His need filled her, mind and soul, and she wrapped herself in it, letting their desire fuel each other. They shared breath, thought, and glorious sensation, building, surging into a powerful eruption. Her muscles clenched, his soul’s magic seared over her skin, and bliss exploded within her in a great wave that sent sparks flashing across her sight.

  Oh, yes. Oh, God, yes.

  He deepened his kiss, riding her wave of pleasure through their mental connection, and purred.

  Hers. Only. Ever. Hers.

  His certainty flooded her, and a flash of regret — that he knew she was using him and wasn’t inamorated back — swept through her.

  Her throat tightened, and her pleasure turned bittersweet. No matter what he said, he deserved better than this. Being with her endangered those he cared about most. And yet she couldn’t stop herself, didn’t want him to move his hands from her body, and, no matter how desperately she knew it was wrong, couldn’t even begin to try severing the mental connection between them. He was her anchor, the missing piece within her that steadied the truth of her soul. And that terrified her more than the idea of just using him.

  He stilled and pressed his forehead to hers, his warm breath teasing across her cheeks and sending shivers of need sliding over her. Even now, against everything she knew was right for him, she wanted more.

  Say the word and I’ll stop. He would. He’d do anything for her. Sacrifice everything.

  And still—

  “I don’t want you to stop.” That’s what scares me. She didn’t want to have his life in her hands. She didn’t want anyone’s life. Not after Afghanistan. People had trusted her, and they’d died. Nero’s soul, his fellow dragons, and his children— God, his children! That was too much responsibility. Too many people who would get hurt because she wasn’t strong enough to resist.

  “It’s okay.” He cupped her face between his strong palms and met her gaze. “It’ll be okay.”

  “No, it won’t. You don’t know me, and you’ll sacrifice everything for me.”

  “It’s the way being inamorated works.” A hint of sadness crept into his eyes.

  See, you don’t even li
ke it. And that broke her heart more. A part of her wanted him to be happy to be with her, needed him to love her back—

  His eyes widened, and she froze.

  She needed him to love her back, not because some magical soul bond was forcing him, but because he wanted to.

  Except that didn’t make sense. She barely knew him… and yet they were sharing thoughts and connecting on a level more intimate and revealing than anything she’d experienced before. She knew him. Core deep. The heart of his essence. He was a kindred spirit, a match to her soul.

  A mental wall within her cracked. Magic was real. He was magic… and so was she.

  Light and heat flooded her body, and Nero’s grip tightened, his hands having moved to her hips to steady her. Her skin burned where he held her, fueling an ache for more, for everything. The mental wall shattered and an electric shock snapped through her. This was her. The real her. And she belonged with him. She couldn’t put it into words. She just knew, like a key finding its lock and clicking open.

  30

  Nero felt her shudder, an aftershock of her orgasm, followed by a renewed flood of aching need and a certainty in her soul toward him that terrified her. Their connection might just be mental, not a proper two-way soul bond, but it was strong, and it went both ways.

  You’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll keep you safe.

  It’s not me I’m worried about. But he could sense that the depth of her feelings after knowing him for so short a time frightened her.

  And exhilarates. The memory of her orgasm shuddered across their connection. Her head tipped back and she groaned, making a purr bubble in his throat.

  If he didn’t think too hard about it, he could imagine the burn of a soul bond flooding her as much as it filled him. Swelling in her mind and body and making her pulse race. No. Don’t hope. She wasn’t inamorated. That was his desire playing tricks on him. Only heartache lay with that thought. But he couldn’t deny there was more to this moment than just temporarily searing away bad memories. This was a joining to heal a part of her she hadn’t fully realized was broken, a way for her to wrap herself in glorious sensations that were all her own.