His raw admission feels like I just won a war. I unhook my legs from around his waist and get my feet under me. Bale steadies me as I tug my dress down. The second I’m decently covered, he swings me up into his arms, leaps onto the window ledge, and launches us into the void.
The free fall excites me even more. Almost too soon, Bale’s shadow wings unfurl and solidify. A first solid pump stops our descent. Then we rise, heading for the top of the mountain. My arms around Bale’s neck, I turn in to his chest and rub my thighs together.
Nuzzling his jaw, I whisper, “I want you inside me.”
“You’re going to make me crash.” His throaty reply adds fuel to my fire.
“Then crash into me.” I think he understands my meaning, but just in case, I open my mouth and breathe a hot, “Fuck me, Bale,” right into his ear.
His inner heat blazes, almost burning me. The scents of dry leaves, wind-whipped forests, and embers about to ignite surround us, and he breathes out smoke, his dragon close to the surface.
Bale climbs the mountain dizzyingly fast. We burst through his open study window as dusk splashes the bright, fiery colors of phoenix wings across the darkening sky. He lands smoothly, reabsorbing his wings. He nudges the window shut and turns down a tunnel, striding toward what must be his bedroom. It takes just seconds to reach a large chamber with a huge bed. He tosses me onto it and starts stripping.
Breathless with anticipation, I push up on my elbows, watching him. My white dress stretches tightly across my chest, my dark nipples straining against the material. The hem is around my hips again, and I let Bale look his fill. His searing gaze riveted to me, he drops his shirt to the floor. My eyes dip, his muscled torso suddenly commanding all my attention. That long crimson line of tattoos. The chiseled ridges. I bite my lip and squeeze my inner muscles. I could climax just looking at him.
His voice almost violent, he rasps, “When you look at me like that, I want to mark you as mine.”
I shiver. “Territorial.”
His boots come off. “If Rexton Hale even looks at you this week, I’ll kill him.”
I arch a brow. “Jealous already?”
“I’ve been jealous for a century.”
Heat swoops through me on burning wings. “How would you mark me?” I ask with primal interest, though I’m not about to let him tattoo his name across my chest.
He pulls at the laces of his pants. “My scent. All over you. No one will touch you.”
“You promise?” I ask with a silky smile.
“I promise to mark you inside and out.”
A thrill ripples through me. My lips part, and I open my legs in invitation. I can barely stand another second without Bale inside me. “I almost want to skip the foreplay,” I murmur.
He groans. Then suddenly, he’s naked before me—and the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. My gaze roams over him, snagging on his erection.
“And how will you mark me?” he asks, stalking forward.
I wet my lips, entranced by the way he moves, the sheer power, the control, the potential to leave me both sated and destroyed. “Not by biting.”
Bale clearly doesn’t find that amusing. “Idallia—behold the sun.” His amber eyes hold mine, suddenly serious. “Be careful in the throes of passion.”
Just from a few words, I almost taste the blood I never craved until the idea of vampire came along. “You’re promising throes of passion.” I swallow the imagined flavor, my still-retracted fangs aching to descend. “You’d better live up to it.”
He sets a knee on the bed, then another, and crawls forward like a predator, looming over me. He runs a big hand down the center of my body from my throat to the juncture between my thighs, pressing his wide palm against my bare skin where it’s already slick and throbbing with need. I exhale raggedly, watching his every move.
His gaze molten amber, he straddles my legs. “Do you like this dress?”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
He grips the material at the hem and rips it clean in half. Cool air hits me all over, and my skin pebbles. My nipples practically reach for him, begging for his mouth.
Bale’s eyes fix on my breasts. “You’re perfection.” He slides a finger through my folds. Shocks pop inside me like starbursts, and I lift into his touch for more. He strokes me again, lightly increasing the pressure.
“Yes, this,” I pant, clenching my belly. He deftly teases the most sensitive part of me. Sparks of sensation radiate from his touch, and my vision grows hazy. “Bale.”
Leaning over me, he plunders my mouth. “What was that about skipping the foreplay? Seems like you’re enjoying it.” He caresses me, spreading my dampness. His other hand fondles my breast.
