Flight of Dragons(14)

A flash of color on her arm drew her attention. Deep, dark purple, the same shade she had seen on her mother, skimmed just beneath her skin. Gasping, she brought her arm up for closer inspection. Scales. She wasn’t ready for scales. She and Brycen weren’t fully mated. Heart racing, she rushed through her shower. She took a moment to towel dry her hair, then finger comb it, before rushing back into the bedroom and throwing on a T-shirt she found in his top drawer.

The smell of cooked meat mingled with the scent of her mate reached her the moment she opened the bedroom door. She followed it, ignoring the grumbling still going on in her stomach until she found him sitting at a small round table with a single plate set directly in front of him.

Forgetting her scales, she glanced at the counter, only to find it bare. He had fixed breakfast for himself, but not for her. Hmmph.

When he looked up, the heat in his gaze was almost enough to make her forget his negligence—almost.

“Come here, beautiful.” He pushed his chair back from the table and spread his knees, giving her a spot to sit on his lap.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt your breakfast,” she bit out. She meant to stay where she was, but when he held his hand out she came closer. The moment his fingers wrapped around hers, he pulled her the rest of the way, settling her on his lap.

“Interrupt my breakfast?” He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Sweetheart, this isn’t my breakfast. This is yours. Well, technically, I suppose it’s ours, but if you want it all, I’ll make more.”

That was when she noticed the oversized plate and the massive steak taking up most of the space on top of it, with cheese and eggs filling the rest. A bowl of fruit, cut into bite-sized pieces, sat next to the plate, along with two tall glasses of orange juice.

“Oh.” Heat raced up her neck and into her cheeks.

“You thought I’d make myself something to eat and ignore your needs?” he asked. “Of course you did. The way I kept running from you, it’s no wonder you don’t trust that I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed—”

“Don’t. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you the moment I knew you were near. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through the changes you’ve been going through. But I’m here now. And I won’t let you down again. You have my word on that.”

A lump grew in Stella’s throat, and she could only nod. This man was hers. This gorgeous, strong, wonderful man, was her mate, and she wasn’t going to spend a single moment dwelling on what happened in the past. Only the present and future mattered.

“Now, let’s get you fed. The way you look in that t-shirt makes me want to rip it off you and take you right here on the table.”

Brycen pulled her in tight against his chest and pressed his lips to her neck. She wiggled against the hard bulge under her, smiling when he moaned against her skin.

“You know, two can play that game.” He reached around her, cutting into the steak, spearing into a piece with a fork, then bringing it up to her lips. “Open.”

She did as he asked. Perfectly cooked, medium rare, with just the right amount of seasoning, the steak practically melted in her mouth. Closing her eyes, Stella moaned as she chewed.

The soft clink of utensils scraping against porcelain had her opening her eyes again. “So delicious, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice was a little deeper, huskier than it had been. He brought another piece of meat to her lips, then once she’d taken it, took one for himself before setting the fork and knife down.

He brought his hands up, cupping her breasts, the warmth radiating from his palms making her nipples tighten. He rolled them through the thin material, tugging at them, sending jolts of pleasure racing through her. Too soon, he reached for the fork again, repeating the process of feeding them both. When he finished, rather than come back to her breasts, he slid his hands down to her knees, lifting them to drape them over his own, spreading her open. Wearing nothing more than his T-shirt, her naked flesh tingled in the cool air. On the way back up, he eased up her thighs, hooking the cotton with his thumbs, so it bunched at her waist.

With a feather light touch, he stroked lazy circles on her inner thighs, so close, yet nowhere near close enough. The slow, sexy torture continued while he fed her. After each bite, he teased a different area, brushing closer and closer to the intimate caress she craved, but never quite reaching it.

“That’s not fair. You still have your boxers on.” Her body was on fire, the throbbing pulse between her legs making her ache with need.