Kiss of a Dragon(59)

When he was spent, he collapsed into her, pressing her firmly against the wall, every muscle draining tension as the last of his seed ebbed inside her. He whispered her name, over and over, into her ear, her neck, her hair, every sweet spot he could bury his face.

He wanted to stretch this moment. He wanted it seared into his memory. Every sweet pant and whispered touch and aching relief. He loved this woman more than his own life. And he would give them both up before he let a single thing in this world ever hurt her again.

Including himself.





If any shadows of doubt lurked in the corners of Arabella’s mind… they were now gone.

Banished in a mind-blowing orgasm. An erotic healing of her wounds, both internal and external. And that confession Lucian made of the darkness that haunted him. All of it pulled her like the sun pulls the earth—inexorable and powerful and searing.

She loved this man in a way she’d never felt before.

This was the True Love he had been talking about. It had to be. She couldn’t think of any more truthful love than knowing the most horrible thing that had happened to someone and loving them more because of it. And now she understood why he needed a mate with a love that was True—because that kind of love had power. She didn’t know if it could move mountains in the magical world—or the dragon equivalent, successfully spawning a dragonling—but in the human world… in her world… it was everything her heart had ever wanted.

Lucian was still inside her when she decided she had to tell him.

Even if they maybe took it slow for a while, didn’t rush into anything, he should know now while she was feeling it. While this emotion was burning bright as the sun inside her.

She wanted to take this leap. With him.

He eased back from pressing her against the wall and slowly, slowly pulled out of her body. He groaned as he left, and that was how she felt it, too—the disconnection left her empty and wanting him again. Immediately. And for always.

He kissed her softly on the lips and the cheeks, his hands bunching up her hair just to run his fingers through it as it fell loose again. “So beautiful,” he whispered.

“Lucian.” She skimmed her hands up to hold his face.

“Shhh…” He playfully rubbed noses with her and then kissed her there. It was so sweet, it rendered her speechless more than his shushing. “You don’t need to say anything. I know.”

He did? Her heart leaped, and she leaned back, trying to catch his eye. But he was busy peppering her with kisses—kisses that turned into small tastes and nips—and she thought for a moment that he might be wanting more already. It wasn’t unheard of. The one twenty-four-hour stretch when they had made endless love, he would come back for more only moments later, recharging like no human ever could.

But then he pulled in a deep breath—scenting her, she was sure of it—and he pulled back, finally looking her in the eyes.

“I want you,” she blurted out, then internally cringed. That was not how she wanted to say this.

He just smiled, slow and lazy. “You just had me.”

“I want more.” But this time, she managed to put seriousness into her voice, not bumbling.

A tiny frown creased his forehead. “More.” His tone said he knew she wasn’t talking about sex.

“I want to try at least. To see if it will work—” But she stopped as his eyelids dropped to half mast, a sudden look of pain dulling the glow in his face.

He stepped back, leaving her naked against the wall. His expression went blank as he waved a hand at her. Clothes magically appeared on her body, and his as well.

“No,” he said.

That one word blasted through her, chilling her body ten degrees. “What do you mean, no?”

“No, I will not take you for a mate.” His expression darkened, and he took another step back. Then another. Until he reached the other side of the hall and could go no further.

“But you’ll… you’ll die if you don’t take a mate.” She was suddenly tearing up and awkward in the silk blouse and tailored pants he had conjured for her, covering up her nakedness like he was done with her now and would simply send her on her way.

Torment flashed across his face, he dropped his gaze, and for a moment, she thought he might be reconsidering… but when he looked up, his expression was ice-cold. “I lied to you about a great many things, Arabella.”

What? “I… I know about…” She was flailing, suddenly lost in a sea of emotional turmoil. What was he doing?

“I needed a mate to fulfill my royal obligations.” His voice was so cold. “A treaty between the fae courts is the only thing that keeps your world and mine separate. Mortal and immortal. As long as a Dragon Prince lives in the House of Smoke, a direct lineage from my great-great-fae grandmother, the Queen of the Summer Court, then there is peace in the realms.” He lifted his chin and gave her an even colder, piercing stare. “For this, I require a mate who loves me and is capable of producing a dragonling. I seduced you with the intent of using you for this purpose. I thought you would be strong enough to survive the procedure. But it’s clear to me now that you are not suitable mate material.” A small muscle in his cheek twitched as he gritted his teeth. He was breathing through them.