My mouth finds hers again. The kiss is brutal. More teeth than finesse. Her tongue sliding against mine in a rhythm that makes my hips rock against her, seeking friction that’s nowhere near enough.
Scales threaten beneath my skin. I can feel them trying to surface along my forearms, my spine. My eyes are probably shifting—dragon sight trying to surface, wanting to see her in full spectrum, wanting to watch her heat signature spike when she comes.
She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t flinch. Just presses closer like she wants the burn.
My hand slides between us. Finds the top of her pants. Her breath stutters when my fingers slip beneath fabric to find bare skin and—
She’s soaked. Slick and swollen, and when I touch her, she makes a sound that’s almost a sob.
“Jericho—” she chokes out my name.
I press against her entrance. Just one finger. Just testing. Her head falls back against the wall, and I watch her face—lips parted, eyes closed, cheeks flushed pink. Her arousal intensifies, flooding my senses until there’s nothing else.
I slide my finger past her slick lips. Shallow. Teasing. Her inner walls clench around me, and she whimpers. The sound goes straight to my cock, my pants suddenly too tight, too restrictive.
Mine.
The word blazes through me. Not thought—truth written in fire and instinct and something deeper than conscious recognition. This female is everything I didn’t know I needed until she was clawing her way into my life with murder in her eyes and need in her scent.
I add a second finger. Work them deeper. Her legs tighten around my waist. Her nails dig into my shoulders hard enoughto draw blood, and I don’t care. I want her marks on me, want evidence of this.
She’s close already. I can feel it in the way her body tenses, in the way her breathing turns ragged, in the desperate sounds she’s making between kisses. Her pulse pounds where my mouth finds her throat. The rhythm matches the clench and release of her inner walls around my fingers.
My thumb finds her clit and circles. Once. Twice. Barely a minute, and she shatters. Comes apart in my arms with my name torn from her throat and her body clenching rhythmically around my fingers. The scent of her pleasure is so intense it makes my dragon roar recognition.
But it’s not enough.
I need inside her. Need to feel her wrapped around my cock. Need to claim her properly.
She’s already reaching for my pants. Fumbling with the button. Getting it open. Dragging down the zipper with shaking hands.
Her palm closes around my cock, and my vision whites out for half a second. I’m so hard it borders on painful—have been for what feels like hours. The relief of her touch is overwhelming. Then she strokes, and it becomes torture of a different kind.
She’s not gentle. Not tentative. Just works me with purpose and pressure that makes my hips thrust into her grip.
“Inside me.” Not a request. A demand. Her eyes meet mine—pupils blown so wide there’s barely any color left. Wolf taking over. “Now.”
I should think about this. Consider consequences. Remember that in hours we’ll be at Aurora and everything will be complicated.
I don’t think. Just adjust our position. Line myself up. Feel her heat against the head of my cock. I’m pressing forward when—
“Frost. Allon. Extraction is here. Open up.”
The voice cuts through everything. Cold. Authoritative. Coming from right outside the door.
I know that voice. Viktor Parlance. Aurora’s leader. The man I need to convince I’m worth sanctuary.
We both go still. My cock pressed against her entrance. Her legs wrapped around me. Both of us half-naked and panting and one thrust away from—
“I know you’re in there,” Viktor continues through the door. “Syndicate is regrouping. We only have minutes. Open the door.”
The world snaps back into focus with brutal clarity.
Nadia’s eyes meet mine. Wide. Horrified. Processing what we were about to do and who’s on the other side of that door about to witness the aftermath.
We move at the same time. She drops her legs, and I release her, and we’re scrambling backward trying to make ourselves presentable.
My shirt. Floor. I grab it and yank it on. Button my pants even though my cock is still hard and aching, and my dragon is snarling in protest at stopping. There’s a visible wet spot on the fabric. Nothing I can do about it.
