He reaches for me, lifting me up and out so smoothly that I wish he could pull me from my future so easily.
My legs wrap around his waist, and my arms close around his chest.
“Why can’t I let the world burn?” I cry against his neck.
“You can,” he snarls, the intense pain in his voice reaching me through my grief. His lips press to my forehead, then my cheeks. “Let it all burn, Asha.”
The need within me bursts back to life. Using my muscles to raise myself up, I demand his kiss, pressing my lips to his, seeking his tongue, tasting every part of his mouth, hungry for his body, needing him, heart and soul.
He responds with the touch I crave, turning and lowering me back onto the rug where he can kneel between my legs and reach every inch of my body.
He balances on one hand, while his lips close over my breasts, one at a time, drawing each nipple into his mouth, his free hand stroking my other breast as I arch into his touch. Cries leave my lips as the heady ache in my center eases and builds with every demanding stroke of his hands and tongue, and a world of pleasure bursts alive within me.
He moves closer to my pelvis, his kisses heading lower, but I take hold of his shoulders.
The wetness between my legs is already intense. His own needs must be beyond his limits.
“Fuck me,” I groan. “Don’t make me wait.”
I need the connection with his body. I need to believe that nothing can ever separate us.
He pauses for only a moment before he positions himself at my center.
His deep, gray, wolfish eyes meet mine as he says, “Stay with me.”
In this moment, I convince myself I’m speaking the truth. “Always.”
The first thrust sends me over the edge.
I scream with pleasure as my world spirals and my body strains to contain the release, to deny the crash as long as I can.
He doesn’t take it slow, thrusting into me with a hard rhythm that my body welcomes, every muscle in my core accommodating him, every sensitive inch of me burning with desire.
I reach my arms back to the rug, gripping it, bracing, pushing myself against him as firmly as he’s thrusting into me.
Pleasure explodes within me, long, long moments of an orgasm that extends beyond anything I thought possible. My mind lifts with it, filling with every memory of him.
All the times he pushed me away. All the times he commanded me. All the times I defied him and challenged him and fought to keep him alive when he was ready to let me go.
All the pain and all the love.
I will hold onto him for as long as I can, and I will never, ever, forget him.
The crash takes him, and both of his hands hit the rug, his command thrumming through me. “Stay with me.”
I gasp for breath, trying to speak through the ripples of pleasure still raging through me. “Always.”
I pull him to my chest, wrapping my arms and legs around him, needing his weight like an anchor, refusing to let go.
He rolls us over so he’s lying on his back, and I’m resting down on him, my head resting against his heart.
Thud-thud. It’s rapid, like his breathing, and I close my eyes, memorizing the beat.
“I will love you forever, Erik Vandawolf.”
His response is a growl. “It took a dragon to keep you from me when I made your hammer.”
I remember it.
