She shifted, and her lips settled in the hollow of his neck. “You smell wonderful,” she whispered. “So warm.”
His body grew too tight, the temptation too strong. Yet, moving away from her felt like a fate worse than death. “Smoke and sweat?” he rumbled. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
He could almost feel her smile. Then, because he’d clearly lost the last functioning gray cell he possessed, he traced his thumb over the curve of her cheek.
She grasped his hand and held it there, her eyes bright with the same desire consuming him. “Race?”
Hell, this was too godsdamn dangerous.
He shook his head, climbed to his feet with her in his arms, and crossed to the dying fire to set her on her coat. He straightened, raking both hands through his hair as he moved away, only then aware he was naked.
Shit. He conjured pants and pulled them on.
Go back,his dragon growled.
No.He was already at war with himself—he didn’t need his dragon on his damn ass as well.
“Race?” Ash sat up, pushing back her hair from her face. “What’s wrong?”
“If I keep touching you,” he bit out, fighting the need blazing under his skin, “there’ll be no stopping.”
“You make it sound like a bad thing.” Her gaze followed him as he paced near the pit. “You want me, and you know I feel the same.”
Why couldn’t he have been something different, without all his baggage? Then he would fuck her until this burning need was sated. Even as the thought formed, he knew no amount of time would be enough to burn this lust out of him?—
Because she’s our mate, his dragon retorted.
His damn beast had tunnel vision when it came to Ash.She’ll die, Kaelthar!
“That would be a bad thing. For you,” he growled, retying his loosened hair.
“You just saved me twice in one day,” she murmured. “Maybe let me decide what’s bad for me?”
A huff, almost a laugh, escaped him. Of course, this tiny Storm Summoner would dare to challenge a millennia-old creature.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “The walls you keep up. The rage underneath. I know what it’s like to carry those.”
It took everything not to flinch.
He hunkered near the firepit, pushing the thicker logs to the center, trying not to look at her sleep-messed hair, rosy cheeks, and slumberous light eyes that saw far too much?—
By the Fates, she would be his undoing.
“Sleep. Morning will be here soon. We have a portal to try and get through.”
“I know that.” She patted the spot beside her, a wry smile on her tempting mouth, the one he yearned to possess again. “Come, lie down. Brooding won’t make the sun rise any faster. And there’s still a bit of a draft, even with the fire burning.” She pointed up with a little grimace. “That hole…”
Race glanced at the aperture in the ceiling, stealing what little warmth the fire gave. Hell, he was losing his damn mind. She wasn’t trying to seduce him—she needed warmth.
“Very well.” He crossed to her and lay down behind her, slipping one arm over her. She was all warmth and silken skin against him.
Ash shivered, her chilled fingers clutching his forearm closer to her chest. She stroked his wrist slowly, then her caressing fingers slowed, and within a few heartbeats, her breathing evened out.
Race shut his eyes, but his senses stayed sharp, tracking the darkness surrounding them.
He had no idea how much time passed, only aware of her warmth against him, her body fitting too perfectly, twisting his into knots. His cock was one big, inevitable ache.
Godsdamn, I need a breather.Carefully, he eased away?—
