“It matters to me.” Another step closer. Our bodies are almost touching. I can feel the heat radiating off him, can smell the forest and smoke that cling to his skin. “I want you, Drayke. I’m done pretending otherwise. Unless you can look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me back, I’m done waiting.”
His throat works as he swallows. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”
I reach up, press my palm flat against his chest. His heart hammers beneath my hand. “We’ve already done this dance. Try something else.”
Silence. Heavy. Charged.
His hands flex at his sides. His breathing has gone ragged. The gold in his eyes is starting to glow.
“You have no idea what this could unleash.”
I kiss him.
Not gentle. Not hesitant. I rise on my toes and fist my hands in his shirt and drag his mouth down to mine with every ounce of want I’ve been suppressing since the moment I first saw him.
For one terrible second, he’s frozen. Rigid beneath my hands, his lips unmoving against mine. I have time to think I’ve made a horrible mistake, that he’s going to push me away, that?—
His control snaps.
A groan tears from his chest—low, raw, desperate. His arms wrap around me, lifting me off my feet, spinning us until my back hits the wall. The impact drives the air from my lungs, but I don’t care. His mouth devours mine, all that careful restraint dissolving into hungry, consuming heat.
He kisses like he fights. Like he flies. With absolute focus and devastating skill, his tongue sweeping against mine, his teeth catching my lower lip, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
I moan into his mouth and wrap my legs around his waist. His skin burns through his clothes—that impossible dragon heat that marks him as more than human. It should be uncomfortable. It’s not. It’s intoxicating. It’s exactly what I’ve been craving.
“Selene.” My name against my lips. Prayer and curse combined. “We shouldn’t?—”
“Shut up.” I bite his jaw. Drag my nails down his back. “Stop thinking. Stop fighting. Just feel.”
He growls—actually growls—and the sound sends heat pooling low in my belly. His hands slide under my shirt, palms flat against my bare skin, and everywhere he touches lights up with sensation.
Fire meets fire.
My power rises to meet his heat, and where our skin connects, sparks dance. Literal sparks—tiny pinpricks of light that flare and fade with every caress. My breath catches. His does too.
“What—”
“Fire-Bringer.” His voice is barely recognizable—deeper, rougher, edged with dragon. “Your power recognizes mine. Calls to it.”
“Is that dangerous?”
“Everything about this is dangerous.” He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. The glow in his is brighter—not frightening, but beautiful. Otherworldly. “We can still stop. I can still?—”
I grab the front of his shirt and yank. Buttons scatter across the floor.
“Does that answer your question?”
His eyes flare brighter. His hands tighten on my hips. “Selene?—”
“No more talking.” I run my hands over his bare chest, feeling the muscles jump beneath my palms, the furnace heat of his skin. “No more stopping. I want you, Drayke. All of you. Right now.”
He shudders. Actually shudders under my touch. Four hundred years of control, of restraint, of holding himself apart—and I’m the one making him shake.
The power is intoxicating.
I push his ruined shirt off his shoulders. Lean in and drag my tongue along his collarbone. He tastes like salt and smoke, and the sound he makes—low and broken—goes straight to my core.
“If you stop now,” I murmur against his skin, “I’ll set your clothes on fire.”
