She holds up a finger. “Don’t you growl at me like that, Connor. Tell your dragon to back the fuck down because I am not having it.”
My inner dragon recoils and buries its head under its paws. I don’t roll over quite as easily though. This is too important. “How exactly do you intend to serve the purpose, Fi?”
“Trade me for the information you want.”
“Fuck no!”
“Roman isn’t going to hurt me. He thinks he’s in love with me and has no idea I’m mated to you. If you allowed me to go with him, I could act like I’ve been your prisoner. I could send you information from the inside.” She holds out her hands to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to suggest she pretend to want to go home with my mortal enemy.
I scoff and look at her through narrowed eyes. “And what happens when he wants to pick up where he left off? Will you marry him?”
“Of course not.”
“What if he wants the honeymoon he’s been denied?”
“I’ll say I’m too traumatized.”
I take a step toward her. “And how long will you stay with him and allow him to tend to your trauma?”
“As long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes to what?”
“To find out as much as I can about the truth behind Lucy’s murder. I’ll stay until I know I’ve collected enough information to tip the war in your favor. I’ll stay as long as it takes to ensure Vivian’s safety and yours, and then I’ll leave.” Her eyes are sharp, confident, but her voice trembles slightly. The thought of doing what she’s suggesting scares her, but in her mind she thinks it’s for the best. She thinks she’d be doing it for me.
“Do you really think he’ll just let you go?” I smell the pancakes burning and flip them onto a plate, turning off the burner. I leave them on the counter and take a step toward her, studying her with my full attention.
“I was his fiancée, Connor, not his hostage.”
I don’t miss the jab she takes at the circumstances of our meeting. “And you believe nothing has changed. He left you here for weeks. Why suddenly does he want you back? What if he’s expecting you to supply him with the secrets you’ve learned here?”
She levels a deadly stare at me. “Unlike you, he can’t read my mind, and I’m a very good liar. I’ll make him believe me.”
I’m in front of her chair, barely noticing that I’ve pushed the heavy walnut table aside with one hand to reach her. Our eyes lock, and when I speak again, my voice is menacingly low. “What will you do, Fiona? Will you let him touch you? Will you kiss him? Will you hold him and whisper that you love him?”
All the fire drains from her face, and her eyes fill with tears. It’s probably new to her to feel what I’m feeling down the bond, the despair, the hopelessness at the mere thought of her enduring Roman’s presence.
“Of course not,” she rasps through a tight throat. “I’d never do that to you.” She places both hands on my stomach, hooks her fingers into my waistband, and pulls me toward her.
I tuck a knuckle under her chin. “Do you think I could stop my dragon from coming for you? Even if it meant starting the very war I’ve been trying to avoid? Even if it meant my probable death? If I thought you were in harm’s way for even a second, I’d come for you with teeth and claws and fire. I would not stop until I had you in my arms.”
“Connor…”
I bring my face close to hers. “To be mated to a dragon is to have your finger on the trigger of a six-ton, fire-breathing weapon. I won’t be able to stop myself, Fiona. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
She swallows, pulls my face down to hers, and then kisses me softly. “I understand.” She places a hand over her heart as if it aches.
I slowly break a wicked smile. “Do you think that’s enough? Shouldn’t we make up after a fight?”
She answers my smile with her own. “What did you have in mind?”
My wings flare, and I sweep everything off the kitchen table, ignoring the shattering vase and the salt and pepper shakers clinking across the tile. I have her out of her chair and spun around in the next breath. I fold herover the table until her stomach is flat against the wood. Her hands land near her shoulders and I stretch them above her head, one and then the other, pinning them in place. My lips brush her ear as I lean over her and grind my erection against her ass. “I was thinking something like this.”
The filthy look she shoots me over her shoulder makes my cock twitch. “I like this idea. We should make up more often.”
I trail a hand down her spine to the waistband of her leggings. “Oh, I suspect there will be plenty of opportunities.”
In a flurry of frantic movements, I strip her lower half and thrust into her before she has time to take her next breath. She’s wet and ready, bucking against me. No way can I hold myself back when she’s like that. I fuck her hard and fast, the table scraping across the floor as flesh slaps flesh. It’s like we’re both underwater and the only way to reach the surface is an orgasm. We’re fucking like we need it to breathe.
