Page 102 of Born in Fire
I nod my head. “Yes. But that’s a conversation for later.”
“Much later,” she agrees, pressing her body against mine.
I guide her to the bed, laying her down with care. Part of me still can’t believe she’s here, alive beneath my hands. I want to worship every inch of her, memorize her all over again.
I start with her mouth, dotting kisses down her throat, into the hollow of her collarbone. She moves beneath me, impatient as always. Some things memory can’t erase.
“Dorian,” she breathes, fingers tangling in my hair. “Please.”
The sound of my name on her lips undoes me. Not the careful way people say it in boardrooms or the wary tone it takes in clan meetings. No, this isJuno’sway—breathless, wanting, like she’s tasting something delicious. Like she knows exactly what it does to me.
I drag my mouth lower, moving my mouth across her chest, taking one nipple into my mouth and then the next. Her heartbeat hammers against my lips—faster than human normal. But then, she isn’t exactly human anymore, is she?
I push the thought away. Not now. Not when she’s warm and willing beneath me, arching as my hands map the terrain of her body.
Her skin tastes like salt and smoke—somehow sweeter than before.
“I thought about this,” I murmur against her ribs. “After you were gone. All the things I never got to tell you. Never got to show you.”
“Show me now,” she whispers.
I press my lips to the soft plane of her stomach, to the jut of her hip bones. Every inch of skin a miracle. A gift. I trace the soft skin of her lower belly with my tongue, reaching her mound and the hair there; it’s gold now, too, different but not… just like the rest of her.
Her thighs part for me, instinctive, trusting. I settle between them, breathing her in. She’s already wet, already wanting. The scent of her arousal hits me like a drug, flooding my system with need. My dragon stirs beneath my skin, possessive and hungry.
Mine. Found. Returned.
I hold her gaze as I lower my head, closing my mouth over her clit. The first taste of her breaks something in me—a dam of grief and longing. I groan against her center, holding her hips as they buck upward.
“Oh God,” she gasps, head thrown back.
I work her slowly at first, relearning what she likes. Long, languid strokes of my tongue that make her whimper. Light suction that has her hands fisting in the sheets. When I slip two fingers inside her and find that spot that makes her wallstighten, she cries out—a sharp, broken sound that goes straight through me.
Her skin grows warmer beneath my hands—unnaturally so, but I’m beyond caring. Heat radiates from her body like she’s burning from within. My dragon responds, my own temperature rising to match hers. Steam rises where our skin meets, the air around us superheated.
I work my fingers in and out of her as I keep suckling on her clit. She’s so goddamn responsive, meeting each thrust, each stroke of my tongue with desperate need.
“Dorian.Dorian. Please, don’t stop—”
I have no intention of stopping. Not until she falls apart beneath me. Not until she remembers what it feels like to be worshipped. I drive her higher, harder, feeling the tension build in her body. Her thighs begin to tremble against my shoulders. She’s close.
“Right there, gorgeous,” I murmur against her. “Come for me.”
She breaks with a cry that might be my name, might be something older. Her body clenches around my fingers, her back arching impossibly as pleasure crashes through her. Light flickers beneath her skin, her hands glowing where they’re tangled in my hair.
I lick and suck at her until her movements grow less frantic, and she finally goes limp. Then I kiss my way back up her body, savoring the aftershocks that ripple through her. Her cheeks are flushed, that strange inner light making her seem almost otherworldly. When my mouth meets hers, she kisses me fiercely, tasting herself on my tongue.
“I need you,” she whispers against my lips. “Inside me. Now.”
There’s a half-second where conscience tugs—she’s just back, barely remembers me, maybe this is too much—but her hands are already guiding me, wrapping around my cock andpositioning me at her entrance. Her legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my lower back.
“Please,” she breathes, and I’m lost.
I push into her slowly, giving her time to stretch around my shaft. She’s slick and hot and tight, perfect around me. It’s almost too much—the sensation, the emotion, all of it threatening to overwhelm me. I pause when I’m fully seated, hovering over her. Our breaths mingle in the small space between us.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say.
She shakes her head, cupping my face in her hands. “It’s not enough.”
