And when his warm, callused hand closed around her breast, she jumped in nervous excitement. Pain and pleasure stabbed through her body as heat pooled itself between her thighs.
Never in her life had she burned like this. Craved another with such a vicious heat. She couldn’t even begin to understand these foreign sensations. They were so confusing and consuming, and why she’d have them for him, she couldn’t imagine.
Electrifying. Tormenting, and they left her wanting more of him.
Her enemy.
Falcyn left her lips to kiss a trail down her throat to the breast he cupped. Medea swallowed at the sight of his dark head at her breast, at the feel of his tongue teasing her taut nipple. His tongue was rough and hot, his lips soothing and tender.
She cupped his head to her, and let the waves of his soft hair tease her fingertips.
He was so beautiful there, tasting her, teasing her. The tense lines of his beautiful face showed the pleasure he received just from touching her. And it made her heart pound.
She sighed in contentment and let the incredible earthy sensations sweep her away until she was nothing but an extension of the dragon holding her.
Closing her eyes, she surrendered herself to him completely.
Falcyn had never tasted anything like her body. She was so warm. So inviting. More so because he knew she was sharing with him what she so rarely shared with anyone else. She wasn’t a creature of trust any more than he was.
Why she would choose him right now, he couldn’t even begin to imagine. He was so unworthy of what she offered. So unworthy of her, period.
But then they were partners in darkness and sorrow. They both had been dealt more than their fair share of agony and betrayal. Both had seen the worst of humanity and fey, and pulled themselves up from the brink of despair to soldier on in spite of that brutality.
It was something the scars of her body gave testimony to, the same as his.
And he winced as he saw the jagged stretch marks that still hovered over the beauty of her stomach from where she’d carried her son. Unlike him, she wore that agony on both the inside and outside of her heart. How could she stand to see such an obvious reminder of her loss?
Until now, he’d never realized how lucky he was that he’d been spared such a physical blow.
Such a brutal, constant reminder.
It said much about her strength and character that she’d carried on with the grace and determination she’d shown all these centuries past. That she’d remained sane through it all. Never had he respected anyone more.
And he was glad that for this one moment, and for whatever reason, she was with him.
Medea tugged at his shirt.
Eager to oblige her, he pulled it off.
She gasped audibly as she ran her hands over his tense arms. He clenched his teeth as his head reeled from pleasure.
The things her touch did to him…
It was incredible. Invigorating. It made him feel virile and feral.
Like the dragon he’d been born.
He was hard and aching. Most of all, he felt vulnerable in a way he’d never imagined.
But he couldn’t pull back. Not now. He needed more of her. Needed to touch every inch of her body and to claim it as his own.
Medea felt a moment of panic as he removed the rest of her clothes from her. She was suddenly exposed to him. Not just naked.
Truly bare. In a way she’d never been before. He didn’t just see her body. He saw her.
Her heart. Her soul.
Most of all, he saw her pain.
