20
Carla
I want him.
I want him so badly that for a moment or two, I can’t form a coherent thought. I can’t string two sensible words together inside my own head. He’s standing in front of me, soaking wet, hard, his eyes on mine, asking me to stop this.
The thing is, we could die out here. That thought has been sitting in the back of my mind since the moment I realized just how many of those huge, feral Red males are in this jungle. We might not make it back to Draig Island. It’s possible, maybe even likely, that nobody comes, and we never see the other side of this. And if that’s true, then I will die with some serious regrets.
One of them is standing right in front of me.
To hell with it.
I reach behind myself and unclasp my bra.
Magma growls low. It’s a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest, and it goes through me. His gorgeous green eyes drag down the length of me and back up. They’re lit up in away I haven’t seen before, and the way he looks at me makes me feel like the most beautiful woman alive.
I let the bra fall at my feet.
His jaw tightens.
“I can’t be gentle,” he says. His voice is barely above a rasp.
“I don’t want gentle.” I hold his gaze. “I want that raw base sex you talked about earlier. The rough kind.” I don’t let myself look away. “I want you to have to carry me afterward, and it won’t be my feet that are hurting.”
Something moves across his expression. Something stripped back and enormous and not quite human.
I like it.
I want him.
I pull my underwear down and step out of them. I’m bare now, standing in front of him with nothing between me and the jungle and this enormous dragon shifter who is looking at me like he wants to take me apart.
His cock is huge. I knew this. But seeing him fully, hard and heavy, is something else. His cock is thick, flushed dark at the tip, the head broad and round. Even his balls look tight and heavy. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?
He swallows, and I watch his throat work with the effort of it.
“Can I come inside you?” he asks.
Holy crap!
I go wet when he says it. I feel this zing between my legs and a tightening at the base of my stomach.
“I get the contraceptive injection every two months,” I tell him. “And I was there just last month. It couldn’t have been three weeks ago, so I won’t—” I wave my hand, “you know. Get pregnant. And you’re a shifter, so STDs don’t apply.” My eyes widen. “Not that I have any kind of STD.”
He smiles.
“I think we’re good.” I swallow. “How do you want me?” I suddenly feel a little nervous. I’m not sure why, but I do.
His eyes go stormy, and his jaw tightens.
“Every which way I can get you,” he says, and his voice has dropped to something that vibrates at the bottom of my stomach. “But on your knees would be good. The ground is soft under those trees.” He nods his head in the general direction.
I start toward them.
“Carla.” My name is barely a sound on his lips. I stop and look back. “You need to be very quiet.” His eyes are serious. “I will have to stop, otherwise.”
“I will be.” I look at him steadily. My clit is still throbbing.
