Right.
“Cabin,” she gasped against his mouth when they finally came up for air. “Unless you want the whole town to see?—”
He didn’t let her finish. One arm hooked beneath her knees, lifting her against his chest like she weighed nothing. Storm dragons were strong. She’d known that intellectually. Feeling it was something else entirely.
They barely made it through the door.
THIRTY-EIGHT
CASSIA
His cabin was dark, lit only by moonlight filtering through the windows. Research materials covered every surface—maps and charts and data printouts that told the story of his investigation. But Cassia barely noticed any of it.
Aero set her down just inside the bedroom door, his hands trembling slightly as they cradled her face.
“I need you to understand something.” His voice was rough, barely controlled. “I’ve never—this is—” He stopped. Started again. “I don’t have a framework for this.”
“Good.” She tugged at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want a framework. I want you.”
“I mean, I might not—I haven’t—” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Intimacy isn’t something I’ve prioritized. In all my years.”
The admission made her pause. She looked up at him, really looked, and saw the vulnerability he was trying to hide. The fear that he wouldn’t be enough for her. That after all this time, all this waiting, he’d somehow disappoint.
Oh,she thought.Oh, you beautiful disaster.
“Aero.” She rose on her toes to brush a kiss against his jaw. “I don’t need experience. I don’t need technique. I just need you tostop thinking and start feeling.” Another kiss, lower, against the pulse point in his throat. “Can you do that?”
His hands tightened on her waist. “I can try.”
“Then try.”
She pulled her shirt over her head.
His reaction was immediate. His pupils dilated, his breath catching audibly. His dragon—she could feel it now, pressing against the boundary of his control—made a sound that was half growl, half purr.
Mate,she imagined it saying.Mine.
“Cassia.” Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. “You’re?—”
“If you say magnificent again, I’m going to assume you only know one compliment.”
A surprised laugh escaped him. The tension broke, just slightly, and when he reached for her again, his hands were steadier.
“Beautiful,” he said instead, fingers tracing the line of her collarbone. “Devastating. Completely beyond anything I prepared for.”
“Better.” She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. “Now take this off before I decide to set it on fire.”
He complied, shrugging out of the fabric and letting it fall. Cassia’s mouth went dry.
She’d known he was built. Seen hints of it beneath his tailored clothes. But seeing was different from touching, and touching was all she could think about now. Lean muscle shifted beneath golden skin as he moved. Faint scars traced patterns across his chest—old wounds, ancient battles, a map of survival written in skin. Heat radiated from him, intense enough that she felt it from inches away.
She pressed her palm flat against his sternum, feeling the slow thud of his heart beneath her fingers. Then she let her handdrift lower. Over the ridges of his abdomen. Along the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his waistband.
His breath caught. “Cassia?—”
“Shh.” She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and pulled him closer. “My turn to explore.”
She kissed his chest. His collarbone. The scar that curved along his ribs. He made a sound low in his throat—half groan, half growl—and his hands fisted at his sides like he was fighting to keep them there.
