Chapter 1
It was the scent that hit him first.
Warm and spicy, welcoming and sweet. His cock went as hard as a tire iron as he breathed in and let her fill his senses.
Willa.
She murmured softly in her sleep and shimmied closer to him, wriggling her plump ass against his erection with a contented sigh.
Jesus, give me strength.
It had been like this all night long.
For hours on end.
For the past three days.
He hadn’t managed to string together thirty minutes of straight sleep. If the last time he’d touched her hadn’t ended the way it did, he might have almost thought it was intentional. But there was no way she would risk trying to torment him with her sexuality a second time. Not when her last attempt had nearly resulted in the loss of her virginity against the wall of his great room.
The memory of it assaulted him yet again. The way she felt, wet and hot, clutching at his fingers, making those catchy little sounds in the back of her throat as he took her higher.
He gritted his teeth and edged away as carefully as possible, but she wasn't having it. Like a homing pigeon, she found him, wriggling until her back was again plastered against his front.
"Fuck all," he growled under his breath, resisting the urge to dip his head a little closer until his face was buried in her hair.
It was ridiculous.
All of it.
He hadn’t even been inside her yet and he was salivating for more, wrapped up in her, aching for another taste. They'd spent only a couple of hours together before he'd started making ridiculous promises to her that were so far beneath the dignity of a dragon, it pissed him off just thinking about it.
Promising not to touch her, indeed.
What kind of masochist would say something like that, knowing she would need to be in his bed if he had any shot of protecting her from other dragons?
But he’d said it, and there was no taking it back.
Now, though, with her grinding against him like she knew he had exactly what she needed, he was regretting those words.
"Mmm," Willa murmured, flexing against him again until his cock was nestled between the cheeks of her ass.
Only the thin layer of his gym pants and her boxer shorts separated them, and the molten heat between them made it feel like nothing at all. In fact, if she just slid her leg forward a bit, and popped that ass out a little more, he could probably release his cock from its confines and slide deep into that warm, wet heat. He'd spent the entire night awake and stiff just thinking about it.
He pushed the thought out of his head and fisted his hand at his side. The only good news, as far as he could see it, was that it could hardly get any worse.
As if she'd heard his thoughts, she muttered softly and then flipped onto her back, slinging one leg over his. In the dim morning light, he had a perfect view of her spectacular breasts. Hard nipples pressed against the grey cotton t-shirt he’d loaned her, and he bit back a curse.
He hated to disturb her. She'd had a rough couple of nights. He’d heard her crying softly in the wee hours when she thought he was asleep, and it made his gut clench. Waking her now when she was finally resting so soundly seemed heartless, but this this was sheer torture. He needed to escape before he found himself tempted to take advantage of what she was sweetly—but unintentionally—offering.
"Willa?" he whispered, sliding his arm out from beneath her head.
She stirred, and her nose twitched before she went still again. He gently grasped her knee and slid her leg off him, but before he could release her, she covered his fingers with her own.
She made another appreciative humming sound in the back of her throat and dragged his hand upward. Past the silken skin of her thigh, over the swell of one hip and straight under that t-shirt to cup one, heavy breast.
He sucked in a breath through his nose and blew it out as his hand twitched. Surely, this was an invitation. Surely, she had to be awake by now. Could she possibly be this sound of a sleeper?
He was still wrestling with his conscience when her hand released his to snake between them and close over his distended cock.
“Jesus,” he grunted.
He was so thick with need, so impossibly hard, that her fingers didn't touch one another as she circled him. Then she began to move her hand up and down. The motion was lazy, slow and so inconsistent, it offered no relief. Only more torture as he arched his hips.
She shifted toward him, mumbling something incoherent.
Still asleep. Stone cold, dead asleep.
He lay there, entire body tense with need, as he struggled for self-control. "Willa," he repeated, this time more firmly.
She tightened her grip on his cock in response, palming the swollen head the way a car lover would the stick shift of a Mustang.
"Willa," he bit out again as the blood rushed in his ears. He gripped her wrist and, calling on every ounce of self-discipline he had, stilled her hand. "It's time to get up.”