Page 46 of Dragon’s Rebel

Chapter 20

Thorne’s body was on fire. But for the first time, there was no pain.

There was only her. Rebel. Her soft curves and strong lean limbs. Her breasts that were tantalizingly naked one minute and frustratingly covered the next.

Her ass and thighs and the soft wet heat between them.

Her mouth, cajoling and demanding and pleading, her tongue sliding over his, her kiss stealing his breath and making him want to follow her anywhere, everywhere, back from the gates of Hell, back to life from the brink of death.

Even though he was nowhere near his hoard, he felt a faint vibration run through his body, an echo of the song of the gold, responding to their joining.

Life and desire roared through his veins, heating his blood, chasing away the pain with the healing touch of his mate.

Mate. Mine.

He pulled her closer, kissing her with abandon, her lips and neck and cheekbones and closed eyes.

She had clothes on now, and he had to make them go away so there would be no barrier between them, no matter which world they were in.

He used his power to make them disappear, and then there was the curve of her back and the hollow of her shoulder and the place between her collarbones, all begging for kisses.

Her dusky nipples, hard with arousal, needing to be kissed and sucked and licked as he cupped the soft flesh. His thigh was between hers, and he could feel her slick wetness.

He had to touch it. He shifted position so he could reach her cleft with his fingers, stroking her slippery folds, feeling her gasp and squirm as he touched her most sensitive place.

He loved that, loved making her burn for him, and he teased and stroked and circled her clit with soft touches, making her pant and moan with desire for more.

He wanted to give her everything. All his gold, all his pent-up emotions. All his love and care and protection, all his hurts and fears.

His heart. Dragon and human, he wanted to give it all to her, so that she would never be without anything she needed or wanted. So that her life would be filled. She would be filled.

She was stroking his shaft now, her light touch like feathers of fire, with the power to ignite all his inner flames.

She wrapped her fingers around him, tugging in a slow, sensual rhythm, stoking those flames until they threatened to explode.

He stopped her hand. It was too soon. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted her too much. He wanted every part of her, and he took it, plundering her body with his lips and hands and tongue.

So soft. So sensual.

Her scent was hot and amazing, like warm sugar and spring flowers. He bit her lightly just above the hipbone, and when she gasped in pleasure he grazed his teeth down to the crease of her thigh, and then kissed his way to her core.

Mine.

His first taste of her core was like heaven, and he lapped at her, tasting her in long slow strokes of his tongue, kissing her clit and swirling his tongue until she dug her fingernails into his shoulder.

Yes.

He wanted her to lose herself, lose her inhibitions, lose her mind.

He wanted her to give herself to him completely.

It was the only thing that would make him whole.

She whimpered, holding his head with both hands, fingers tangled in his hair.

He slid his fingers inside her, filling her while he kissed her clit, listening to her soft moans as her body inched toward release.

There. He gave one more stroke with his tongue, and she was exploding all around him, her hips rocking, crying out as her body shuddered.