by Ophelia Bell
Turning back to Belah, he said, “You should come. The show’s two weeks from tonight.”
“You play with your brother, and … cousin?”
Her accented voice was so light and hesitant, as though she weren’t a native speaker of the language. Even though she spoke perfect English, he had to remind himself that it was Dragon Ascension season and she might have been born in another country. Fuck, another century.
“Right,” he said, nodding. “My brother plays tenor sax or guitar, depending on his mood, and our cousin plays drums.” He beat out a soft rhythm on the table to emphasize.
“Your cousin … Ozzie…?”
By the Winds, was she adorable, working over the words in that sweet tone of hers. He wondered if she could sing.
“Well, his given name is Oszkar, but that’s what we call him, yeah … Erika must have mentioned him. He’s the best percussionist in the world, really. Kicks a beat like no other.” He snorted slightly, thinking about how well he’d heard Ozzie kicking a beat with Erika back in her groupie days, but elected not to share that detail in front of Erika’s intimidating mate.
“Does he come to your shows when you don’t play together?” she asked, looking around.
Now Lukas was worried. “Never, actually … I mean, we have our regular gig, but we try to stay out of each other’s hair in between. It’s not like we need to practice. My bandmates hate that I never show up for that, but they know me.”
“Oh.” She seemed to visibly relax.
Before he could ask her about it, the telltale riffs from his bassist sounded, letting him know his guys were ready to start the next set.
“That’s my cue,” he said. He stood up and kissed her cheek, hating that he had to leave her now, but he was committed to all his gigs. Even though they were part of his human cover, he needed to play music like he needed to breathe. He wouldn’t cut a gig short for a woman he’d just met, even if it physically hurt him to walk away from her.
And fuck, did it hurt when he walked away.
She’s the One.
Lukas took his spot on stage again, with his sax in hand and his butt on his stool. When he locked eyes with Belah again, the ache in his soul disappeared.
And he played, their gazes never straying for the rest of the night.
By the end of the evening, he had no memory of what he’d played, only that the entire audience stood up and applauded and the guys were patting his back saying things like, “Holy shit, dude, where the fuck did that come from?”
Her … it came from her. As he looked down at Belah’s smiling face, he shook his head in wonder. “It’s you,” he mouthed to her, not even caring whether she knew what he meant.
Her head tilted, and she whispered back the word, “Maybe.”
How could she not know? His gut clenched with worry, but she stayed, at least, smiling and waiting for him to pack up for the night. He watched her say farewell to her friends, and for the first time in forever, he was actually happy … scratch that, fucking ecstatic … to be going home for the night.
Chapter Ten
“I hope you like the wind,” Lukas said with a grin as he led Belah through a dimly lit corridor to a doorway in the back of the club. Outside, he made a fancy show of handing her an object she had no idea what to make of.
He turned away while she studied the smooth, shining helmet. It was unlike any battle gear she’d ever seen, with its round shape and soft cloth on the inside, but hard and sturdy like a shiny black egg on the outside. The magic from his music still thrummed in her mind, and she smiled at him giddily while he secured the black case that held his instrument onto the back of his steed.
“You ever ride before?” he asked, shoving a helmet onto his head and securing the strap under his chin. “Put it on, baby. Don’t want your pretty head messed up if we take a spill on the way home. I promise I won’t—the wind will carry us—but it’s against the law not to wear one.”
“All right,” she said, shaking her head at her own sense of being swept away. Oh, Mother, I don’t ever remember it being like this. Even with … She didn’t finish the thought, refusing to sully the evening with memories of her past mistakes.
Lukas came toward her, shrugging out of his leather jacket. “Put this on,” he said. “It’ll keep you warm.”
Cool air wouldn’t be an issue for her, but she agreed with a nod, turning to let him slip the jacket over her shoulders. It dwarfed her slender frame, but smelled like clouds and rain and sky. She took a deep breath, reveling in the scent of him that surrounded her now, so utterly different from the dark, dangerous aroma of her old lover.
He eyed her long dress as she was about to climb on. “That might be a problem. Can you do something about it?”
The dress itself was conjured—everything Belah wore was, aside from the jacket he’d just given her. She nodded and gathered the skirt up, baring her long legs to him, and wrapped the length around her hips, tucking the fabric into itself like a sarong.
“Will this do?” she asked. Impulsively, she also kicked off her shoes and picked them up.
Lukas gave her an odd look, but nodded. “Climb on behind me and hold on tight.”
He wasn’t kidding about the wind, either. The name for his machine finally came to her just as she wrapped her arms around his waist and the engine came to life beneath them.
Motorcycle, she thought. It’s like a car, but better because it’s between your legs and makes you feel like you’re flying.
The thought made her grin like an idiot, but it was true. She found it tricky not to stretch her wings as he sped down the streets of the city with her clinging to him. The need to fly made her shoulder blades itch, but suppressing it caused her need for magic to swell to bursting inside her. Once they reached their destination, she hoped he wouldn’t waste time making love to her. To combat the urge, she clung tighter to him, letting her hands press against his belly, her face against the taut strength of his wide shoulders.
The sheer, vibrant life of him thrilled her. He was the first man in more than three thousand years whose contact made her insides melt with anticipation. During that ride, Belah nearly cried at how beautiful those sensations were, the warmth of his abdomen sinking into her palms where she pressed against him. She longed to touch him more, but knew it was better to wait.
She avoided reading his emotions, aside from the few bits that made her core grow warm. He wanted her. Of course he did, or else he wouldn’t have extended his invitation. She wondered if those words he’d whispered from across the room at the club meant what she hoped they did. His reaction to her was certainly more optimistic than Ozzie’s had been at dinner—not to mention after he had learned her secret.
She squeezed her arms tighter around Lukas and inhaled his scent, her heartbeat syncing with his in a way that made the confusion of her meeting with Nikhil fade away. Everything about Lukas felt like a puzzle piece shifting into place—even though a piece still seemed like it was missing, what was here undoubtedly fit.
And she absolutely wanted him. Her hand strayed lower down his belly, her need urging her to touch him. His aura grew warmer the lower her fingers moved, and that smoky cloud she’d seen around him earlier puffed out of him and filtered around her like no other aura she’d ever witnessed. The scent of the wind at high altitudes pervaded her senses, making her feel even more like flying. He gripped her hand at a stoplight and pulled it lower, pressing it against his hard length beneath his leathers.
“You want this, baby? Take it easy on me for about ten more minutes and you’ll get it, all right?”
Ten minutes felt like ten million. But soon enough, Lukas pulled into a darkened street by a massive brick building. Belah heard nothing around them besides the lap of water nearby and turned to see the waters of a bay. He dismounted and lifted her into his arms, then set her barefoot on the ground. He walked
to a huge door and lifted it. Inside was an almost empty room, brightly lit, with a shining gray floor like the garage on the bottom level of Erika and Geva’s building. There was nothing inside but a long, waist-high bench along one wall, and a collection of cabinets, neatly closed.
Lukas came back to stand before her, tugged at the clip of her helmet, and pulled it off. For a split second he looked like he might speak, but he startled her with his lips suddenly pressed against hers.
The depth of his need pervaded her senses. He’d been about to tell her to come inside, she knew that much. But he was hard to read, which lent an air of mystery to him that only made her want him more.
She didn’t care much, though. He tasted good, and if a Prince of the North Wind were such an enigma, it only betrayed the strength of his magic. If she were his true mate, she would finally have a lover she could mark without worrying he would lose his will to her magic.
As he kissed her, Lukas pushed his jacket off her shoulders and let his hands roam down her arms. She loved how decisive he was. How much he seemed to know precisely what he wanted and what might please her. Her old craving for surrender swelled within her and she let it come, knowing that with this man there was no hidden darkness threatening to take over. She leaned into him, threading her fingers through his hair and letting him devour her.
With a low growl, he pulled away. “Fuck, Belah. Can I take my bike in before you destroy me entirely?”
“Yes,” she whispered, reluctantly releasing him. She let the hem of her dress cascade back to her ankles and followed him inside, dazed by the kiss and wondering how the hell her kind hadn’t been secretly mating turul for centuries already.
She leaned against the tool-covered bench and enjoyed his steady, comfortable movements as he closed the garage door and worked on his bike for a few moments. He removed the case with his instrument first and set it beside her, kissing her again slowly before grabbing a cloth and walking back to the bike to wipe it down.
“She gets cranky if I don’t clean her up after a ride,” he explained.
Belah glanced down at the dark case he’d set beside her, resting her hand on it. “What about her? She did more work tonight, by my estimation.”
Lukas grinned. “You’re right, but she gets to sleep in a velvet bed, and she understands I have other priorities tonight. This lady …” He gestured to the bike. “She’s more temperamental.”
“Do you love all your women so well?” Belah asked, enthralled by this man who so perfectly embodied her ideal.
“No,” he said, wiping down the shining silver pipes of his machine.
Blinking at him, she nearly asked why until he looked at her, his storm-gray eyes intense enough to burn through her soul.
“The ones who almost make me too shaky to finish a gig get extra attention.” His movements slowed, his hand pausing on the seat of the bike, regarding her with parted lips. His gaze raked over her. “Fuck it, the bike can wait.”
Suddenly he was before her, tearing his dirty shirt off over his head and flinging it into a corner. He lifted Belah up, set her on the rough wooden bench, and crushed her lips with his in a fast, hungry kiss that left her breathless.
He tore himself away with a gasp, as though trying not to drown. They gazed into each other’s eyes, Lukas’s heaving chest making it apparent to her that she had the same effect on him. It had been so long since a man had affected her this way, with every action more surprising and wonderful than the last, and all of it before they’d made love even once. He fascinated her in a way that was tough to articulate. And never had a man filled her with such hopeful anticipation.
As though sensing she wanted to speak, his eyebrows rose in inquiry. With one broad thumb, he traced the curve of her lower lip, a silent enticement to let her words come free.
“I like watching you,” she said with a slight shrug.
“Oh? Did you enjoy watching me as much as I enjoyed watching Erika take care of you earlier?”
She flushed in response to the slow smile that tugged at his lips, and her magic fluctuated dangerously, her skin shimmering into pale blue scales under the harsh lights of his garage.
“Maybe not quite so much. I’d like to see how you look in that moment—then perhaps we’ll be even.”
“That moment,” he repeated in a rough voice, so laden with desire it seemed to drip with it. “That moment might come quicker than you think, but I plan for us to have many more. Tell me how long it’s been for you so I know how much I ought to pace myself. I want to give you as many orgasms as you give me.”
He tugged her hips to the edge of the bench and pressed between her thighs, forcing her to wrap her legs around him. His erection throbbed hot and hard through their clothes, and she tilted her hips to rub against him.
“Too long,” she said against his lips.
Please, let’s start now.
She wasn’t quite sure whether it was his thought or hers, but she was in no mood to hesitate once it became clear that was exactly what he intended to do. His hands bracketed her jaw and his lips were on hers again, the nips and tugs speaking a language to her that she’d forgotten she knew fluently. She answered with her own urgent, hungry bites, grazing her teeth over his jaw and neck, just rough enough to cause a little pain, but not to break his skin.
He pulled back, grabbing her hands in his when she reached for him again, and she hated even the short distance he’d put between them. The determined expression in his eyes betrayed the hint of a plan.
“Hold still, right here,” he whispered, pressing her hands to the edge of the bench.
She nodded, thrilled by the command, and dug her fingers into the wood, determined to let him have control, even though the urge to touch him back was almost too strong to bear.
It gave her a moment to observe him in the light. She’d experienced Lukas’s contact just enough to know he was a well-built man, but seeing gave her a different perspective than touching. He had the solid build of a dragon, but without their massive stature. He was still large by human standards, however, with broad shoulders and the form of a man comfortable using his body frequently. The dusting of dark hair across his chest made her fingers tingle again with the urge to touch him. Her moment would come soon enough. For now, she would simply enjoy giving in to his whims.
She tilted her head into his hand when he lifted it to her cheek in a soft caress. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she imagined the sounds of his music filling her mind earlier, the rhythm matching her every breath.
“Look at me,” he said. “I want your baby blues to see what you do to me.”
She did, opening her eyes to meet his gaze, so filled with need it made her core ache to have him, but waiting was part of the pleasure. Something deeper lingered in his eyes, too, and she tentatively reached out with her mind, hoping it might be the spark of something truly beautiful; a reflection of what had lit inside her when she’d first heard his music in person earlier that night. Hoping it meant that he saw her as more than a fleeting tryst and that his instincts were driving him toward her because she was his true mate.
His caress moved down her neck, fingers teasing at her throat. He bent and pressed hot, silky lips against her collarbone and trailed them further south, the path preceded by his fingertips tugging at the strap of her dress, pushing her bodice down until one breast was bared to him.
Belah tilted her head back with a moan when he wrapped his lips around her nipple. One hand strayed to his head to hold him there, but he chuckled and clutched it, putting it back down beside her thigh on the bench.
“You make me so hungry for you, baby. Watching you come to the sound of my music tonight was the best introduction I’ve ever had to a woman. Now you get to sit back and watch me play your body like an instrument, and I get to hear the music you make.”
He moved his mouth to her other breast, the straps of her
dress falling down to her elbows. One of his hands slid under her dress, pushing the velvet fabric higher until his fingertips reached the thin lace where her panties crossed her hip.
She let out a sharp gasp when he twisted the delicate fabric in his fingers and tugged hard. The cloth stretched and snapped.
“That’s right, let me hear you,” he said, glancing down at her exposed skin, her creamy breasts rising and falling, nipples hard and tingling, aching for his mouth again.
He tugged the remnant of her panties from under her and let them dangle from his fingers for a second before draping them over a small hook on the wall behind her. She didn’t have the heart to tell him they’d fade away after she left him, but perhaps she’d never leave.
Then he was on his knees, his face a breath from the slick, sensitive skin between her open thighs.
All he did was blow, the soft breath gusting against her folds in a cool caress. Despite the fact that it was only air, it did something to her. The sharpest pleasure she’d ever experienced began with that sensation against her most sensitive flesh. It was subtle at first, but grew exponentially when his fingers parted her and he blew again, a targeted breath aimed right at her clit.
She moaned and tilted her hips toward him, wishing for more. And he repeated the process, moving his head in a slow circle, the current teasing her in a spiral, closer and tighter until his lips were against her, sucking gently.
The shuddering moan that escaped her then resonated through the room, deep and filled with primal hunger.
He didn’t seem in a hurry to stop, taking his time with his tongue and lips teasing her and urging her to vocalize her pleasure.
“That’s right, baby,” he murmured. “Tell me how it feels with my tongue deep in your pussy. Tell me what you like.”
“I want your hands on me, too,” she managed to stutter out, and he immediately complied, reaching up and clutching both her breasts.
He pinched her nipples, making her gasp at the thrill the pain sent through her. As if understanding exactly how much pleasure it gave her, he did it again. When she let out a fresh moan, Lukas slowed the pace of his tongue on her clit and looked up at her.