He will remember me.
His gaze dips and I follow his stare down the slope of my belly to see him flush against me, his cock buried, out of sight, pulsating where it can’t be seen, only felt.
“You fit me like a glove,” he breathes.
For several moments neither one of us moves beyond the heavy crash of huffed air between us.
His eyes travel over my face, seeing all, missing nothing, the twin prisms, violet black, pulling me deeper under his spell. “Are you...am I hurting you?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” My inner channel hugs and tightens around him, a strange thing. This instinctive reaction. The body knowing what it wants without the mind deciding.
“Thank fuck.” His rough hand slides along my face, holding my cheek and then dragging down, over my jaw, fingertips trailing my throat, my collarbone, between the valley of my breasts, then cupping, lifting my breast, palming it, massaging it in a way that sends a fresh flood of moisture straight to my core, slicking the path of his cock. Pulling back, he drives inside me again, bouncing me on his shaft, the friction triggering a wave of shock points along my nerves.
Then I come alive all over again, sitting up sharply so that my breasts mash into his chest.
He kisses me again, hard, teeth clanging, lips sweeping.
I cover his hand over my breast, directly over my heart, willing him to stop worrying, to simply move and give us what we both need.
He drops his head into the crook of my neck, his hair like silkagainst my skin as he withdraws himself again, teasingly, tormentingly slow, leaving me aching and miserably hollow and weeping for his return.
“Oh, this?” He drives his cock inside me.
“Yes!”
Watching me intently, deep, primal satisfaction gleaming in his eyes, he does it a second time. And a third.
“Yes!”
And again and again, increasing his pace and force each time. Until I lose count. Until my vision blurs with streaks of colors.
His hand clenches tighter on my breast, and I hold him there, against me, to my heart as he moves inside me like something unleashed. A beast set free, a dragon, wild and deliciously rough, driving hard and fast in uneven, unpredictable thrusts that sweep me up and away, carrying me with him into the sky again.
This time we fly apart together. He cries out into the bend of my throat as I croak a silent, shuddering scream.
We fall still, clinging to each other, bodies a gasping tangled mess.
My heart continues to race beneath our overlapped hands. I don’t think it will ever resume a normal rhythm.
Iwill never return to a normal rhythm.
He did this to me. Turned me into something that will only ever be as wild as these untamed mountains and the dragons that shelter in them.
I will never again fit in among the people of Penterra.Humans.
Be honest with yourself. You haven’t fit among the humans of Penterra in a long, long time.
Except I have to go back.
As much as I don’t fit in Penterra, I don’t fit in any better here.
At the end of the day, Iama human of Penterra. I belong among my kind. Not here.
Iwillleave and find Henrik and his family.Myfamily. That is my place. Where I belong. I will live among them concealed, ashadow hovering in the corner, reliving the time I spent in the bed of a dragon where I felt the most alive, the most known, the most seen I’ve ever felt.
Tage extracts himself from me, but not wholly. He keeps his thick, muscled arm wrapped about me, pulling us both onto our sides and folding his bigger body around me, tucking me back against him, settling us like two spoons in a drawer.
“I told you,” I murmur.
