“Another time,” he promised as he stripped her of her underwear before hurriedly removing his own clothing, “another time I will allow you to lead. But right now… mmrf.” The last word was garbled when he buried his face in her belly.
She giggled and simultaneously sucked in her breath. He looked down at the incredible sight of her lying beneath him, her eyes shining with a light that beckoned to him, her body so perfectly made to fit his, he couldn’t imagine ever considering any other woman. But something wasn’t quite right, some urge was riding him hard, making him want something… more.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and to the end of my days, I will thank whatever gods were responsible for sending you to me,” he said, bending down to press a kiss to her sweet lips.
She sighed. “That is the nicest thing that anyone has—eep!”
Without warning, he flipped her over onto her belly, that delectable, soft, enticing belly, and spread her legs enough to settle between them.
“Don’t ask questions,” he said, pulling her hips up while sliding a finger into her heated depths. She was, thankfully, ready to receive his attentions, which was good since he didn’t think he’d be able to last another second. “I don’t know why I have to do this, but I do.”
“Well, it’s a little different, but I don’t suppose it’s—goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” She almost sang the last part of that sentence when he slid into her with one powerful thrust of his hips. “That is… wow, that’s… oh yes, do that move to the left again.”
He moved to the left, and then to the right, and then just because he was a man who believed in covering all the bases, upward and downward as well. As he bent to kiss the back of her neck, intending on trying a few diagonal moves that he hoped would have her squealing with joy, an urge came to him, overpowering him, driving him harder and deeper into her, the pressure building inside until he swirled his tongue on the back of her neck, and breathed fire.
Sophea was already moaning and thrashing around beneath him, but when the fire bathed them both, her muscles tightened around him, and she yelled something incomprehensible into the pillow. He gave in to his own orgasm, his body feeling as if he’d been filled with liquid gold that was lighting him up from within and pouring out into her.
“Okay,” she said some minutes later. He was frankly surprised to hear her speak, simply because he was amazed he hadn’t succumbed to the perfect ecstasy of the moment. He opened an eye to find himself lying on his back, Sophea’s hair brushing his chin, her hand gently caressing his chest. “That was incredibly fabulous. Seriously incredibly fabulous. I wasn’t sure when you flipped me over like that, because for a minute, I thought you were heading for the wrong door, but then when you made those little swiveling moves, and then that whole fire thing… wow. Just wow. You can do that any time you like.” She tipped her head back to bite his chin, but before she could do so, she winced, and reached a hand to the back of her neck. “What the…?”
“Oh, that.” He felt an odd mixture of pride and guilt. “I’m sorry about that. I’m afraid I was so caught up in the moment that I breathed fire on you.”
“It hurts a little,” she said, rubbing at the spot. “The fire didn’t do that before.”
“Maybe it’s because it was my fire, and I’m not in control of it yet,” he said, sitting up to look at her neck, hoping he hadn’t seriously injured her. To his amazement when he lifted her hair, he beheld an odd marking.
“Well?” she asked, turning her head when he just stared. “Did it blister? Is it gross? Should I see a doctor? It’s not that hurty, just a little stinging, like a sunburn.”
“It’s… I appear to have… I’m not sure how it happened, but evidently I… for lack of better word, marked you.”
“Marked me how?”
He made a vague gesture. “To be honest, it looks like a henna tattoo. Only this one looks to be crossed swords over a circle.”
“Great. Now I have a weird sword thing on my neck.” She rubbed at it a little more then lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. “What are we going to do, Rowan?”
“About your neck? I could ask the captain if there is a doctor on board—”
“No, about this.” She waved a hand vaguely. “Us. The dragon people. Mrs. P. The whole world evidently trembling on the verge of destruction if you don’t take a ring from an old lady who needs it to get to her long-lost love? What are we going to do?”
He lay back and pulled her into his side, reveling in the sensation of her snuggling into him, her body warm and soft and infinitely comforting. “I don’t know, love, I don’t know. But we’ll figure something out. We have to.”
She said nothing to that, but he knew she was worried.
Not as worried as he was, though. Because now there was more at stake than just making his sister happy, and incidentally saving the mortal world from a demon lord.
Now there was Sophea.
Thirteen