Page 67 of Dragon’s Rogue

His fingers trailed up her neck, along her jawbone. “I keep having to remind myself that I’m a stranger to you, that you don’t feel that.”

He took a deep breath. “So if you want to take this slow, or…”

Or not do it at all… She could almost see the words trembling on his lips, and she knew he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

He couldn’t bring himself to give up the woman of his dreams.

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing them lightly over her knuckles. Electric tingles spread from everywhere he touched her. His hand cradled hers like it was a delicate dragonfly, captured for only a moment, and so precious that a false move would crush it.

How could that simple touch of lips against her hand be more electric than any full-on kiss she’d ever had? He paused, and looked up into her eyes.

There was something deep and fathomless in their sky-blue depths. As if she could see the universe in his eyes, years and centuries of life, all coalescing into this one moment.

She caught her breath. She had meant to pull away, to say she needed more time, but she couldn’t. All she could do was lose herself in those eyes, swept away like flying.

His lips moved to the inside of her wrist, making her shiver, and continued up the tender skin on the inside of her forearm. Then he released her hand, skimming his fingers up her upper arm, across the point of her shoulder, tracing her collarbone and up her neck. Her head tipped back of its own volition, and she raised her lips to his, feeling them part gently with a sigh.

His hand brushed her hair back over her shoulder, and cupped the back of her neck.

And then his lips were on hers.

Oh.

His kiss was deeper than it had been the night before. She could feel the emotion behind it. Gentle, and yet powerful, with a hint of seductive darkness. Every nerve ending tingled—her breasts, her belly, her sex. She wanted to savor him like fine wine, and drink him down like a shot of whiskey.

Every piece of gold in the room began to sing. It was both a sound and a feeling, and it was pure joy.

Chapter 30

Zane slid his arms around Blaze, pulling her closer. Her mouth opened to him, sweet with the taste of red velvet cake. Her tongue tangled with his, and he deepened the kiss, feeling like he could drown in her.

He’s been waiting such a long time. Decades. He sat back on the couch and pulled her close, cradled across his lap. Her hands stroked his pecs, his shoulders; her fingers buried themselves in his hair.

She made a soft sound of happiness. The necklace around her neck hummed against his skin, and his dick throbbed with a desire that was almost painful.

He felt desperate with desire and longing, even more than he had when they made love in the gallery. Nothing in his dreams had prepared him for the intensity of that bond. Whether she felt it or not, in was all over for him in that moment.

The thought that she might not feel the same way was intolerable. Impossible.

She was his treasure now, and he had to cherish her and make her happy.

He kissed her neck, trying to take it slow, all the time wanting to devour her and burn up in flames. He trailed his lips across her shoulder, where the strap of her nightgown had fallen and the top folded back, exposing the top of her breast.

He wanted that, her soft creamy skin. He moved his lips downward, and reached inside the neck of her gown to cup her breast and lift it free. Her nipple was already hard, and he knew what it would feel like in his mouth, what it would taste like, exactly how she liked him to lick it, to suck gently, to graze his teeth over it ever so lightly…

Blaze groaned. Zane’s dick throbbed, pressing against the seam of his jeans. So many nights he’d woken from his dreams of her hot and desperate, and he’d wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her and wrap her around him, thrust inside her molten core until she forgot everything but the feel of him inside her.

He wanted that now.

Her hands seemed to be everywhere: touching, stroking, igniting flames wherever her fingers touched.

Mine, his dragon roared inside him. Ours, Zane said. Every piece of gold in the room hummed, happy to be part of their bond.

Part of their song.

Dimly, he heard Tyr’s mental voice. Zane?

Not now.