Her orgasm built quickly as he repeated the thrust, sending her higher and higher. The walls of her clamping down tight until finally, finally he shoved her off the cliff into a mind melding, dizzying climax.
She moaned as her body clenched around his and sparks of pleasure raced up and down her nerve endings. With a low groan he followed her.
When it was over and they were both panting, he released her hands and lowered her fully onto the table, coming down to kneel in front of her and resting his head on her stomach. Shea touched his hair, running her fingers through it as they caught their breath.
She stared up at the canvas, her mind lost in itself, thinking of nothing in particular.
"When Cale made his accusation against you, before my man gave me the maps, you thought I believed him," Fallon finally broke the silence.
It was unexpected after what they just shared. Enough so that Shea stiffened and would have sat up if his arms hadn't suddenly tightened around her waist.
She forced herself to relax.
"I thought it was a possibility," she admitted. "He was your brother. It would have been natural to believe him over a woman you haven't known for very long."
He lifted his head, peering at her disbelievingly. "You will have to get over this habit of believing the worst of me and all those around you. It is insulting and unbecoming."
"What?" she sputtered. "It's happened before. People naturally side with their own."
"You are one of us now. Constantly assuming we're going to betray you belittles us and doesn't say very good things about you either."
Shea lapsed into angry silence. She tried to ignore the soothing patterns he was drawing on her skin. He was not going to take the sting out his words so easily.
"What will you do with the maps Cale deciphered?" she asked.
"That's it. You're not going to discuss this anymore?"
She shrugged. "What is there to discuss? We are not going to agree on this subject. Might as well discuss something that has merit."
He blew sharply on her belly, sending pleasure skittering up her front. She wasn't happy with the way her body seemed to roll over for him so easily.
"Shea, I have already told you that you are my Tolroi. That is something I have never offered to any other. I've never even considered it. I would not choose another over you."
Shea fought the softening in her heart.
He bit her lightly. "Ack, woman, you are stubborn. More so than any I have ever met. Why can't you see the effect you have on those around you? Your men love you. Even Darius and Caden, my own advisors, respect you. Only you persist in keeping everyone at a distance."
Her eyes met his.
He stood and leaned over her, brushing her hair back from her face. "Perhaps this is one of those lessons that can only be learned with time." He dropped a light kiss on her lips. "I will enjoy teaching it to you until it is one that has been engraved in your heart."
Shea touched his face gently and ran her thumb along his cheekbone. She wanted to believe him, but didn't know if she could. A few months wasn't enough time to undo a lifetime of being on guard.
"Perhaps we can start the first lesson with your maps." Naked as the day he was born and not modest about it either, he picked up his pants and withdrew the re-creations Cale had made and the originals Shea had left behind. "My men found the originals in one of the apprentice cartographer's belongings. These should be all of them."
Shea sat up. Now that he had them, what would he do?
What would she do? She didn't know if she could stand by if he invaded her homeland, intent on the weapons her people hid. She didn't know if she could stop him if he did.
This emotion she felt for him. This fragile stirring of love could be crushed if handled wrong.
To her complete shock, he held out both sets to her.
She took them slowly, not quite believing it.
"Do with them what you will," he told her. "Keep them or burn them. I don't care. I can't promise I will never turn my attention to the Highlands, especially if they present a threat to what I am building here. But for now, I need to address the problems in my ranks and focus on strengthening the Lowlands." He shot her a wicked grin, appearing in that moment carefree and ten years younger. "Besides I have a Tolroi to keep satisfied, and I think such an endeavor will take many, many nights and my entire focus to accomplish."
She stood and walked to the brazier, holding the pieces in the flame until they caught fire. When they had been reduced to ash, she shot him a coy look. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're right about that."
Discover More by T.A. White
Dragon-Ridden
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About The Author
Writing is my first love. Even before I could read or put coherent sentences down on paper, I would beg the older kids to team up with me for the purpose of crafting ghost stories to share with our friends. This first writing partnership came to a tragic end when my coauthor decided to quit a day later, and I threw my cookies at her head. Today, I stick with solo writing, telling the stories that would otherwise keep me up at night.
Most days (and nights) are spent feeding my tea addiction while defending the computer keyboard from my feline companion, Loki, who would like to try her paw at typing.
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Excerpt for Dragon-Ridden
A woman with no memory. A tattoo with a mind of its own.
Tate leads a life full of secrets. Having dragon tattoo that moves when nobody is looking and no memory of her past makes things challenging. When a momentary impulse leads Tate to return a hairpin to its owner, it sparks a chain of events that soon affects Tate's survival. Now with several people convinced that she holds the key to unimaginable power, Tate's about to learn how a single action can have unintended consequences.
With no allies to watch her back, Tate's going to have to move fast if she wants to survive in the city of Aurelia, where people are never who they seem. She'll find that monsters walk the labyrinth beneath Aurelia's streets where the secrets to Tate's past rest. Unlocking her hidden memories might just be the only thing keeping Tate alive and preventing the coming war.
Prologue
It was cold. So cold. The kind that sunk below the skin and dove straight for the bone. So deep she couldn't even shiver. There was no sense of self or place, just a vast dark nothingness. The silence was so loud it practically screamed.
Ages passed, each moment the same as before. In time, the tiny existence floating through the emptiness became aware of a second presence. It curled itself around her like a shield- unyielding. And silent. Sometimes she'd rail against its silence begging for a word, a feeling, anything. Through it all, the presence was a beacon of light that drew her like a moth to the flame. Sometimes it felt as if that light was simply a shadow on her mind, created to keep her company as the long years passed. Real or not, she watched its glow with the hunger of a woman starved for thousands of years.
She couldn't tell you her name, what she was, or how she came to be. Her world revolved around that beacon of light. It was a hypnotic and soothing distraction that flickered and danced in the darkness just for her.
Time passed.
Pain ignited along her nerve endings. Startling, after an eternity of nothingness. The ground reeled beneath her as she shivered and convulsed. She prayed for the pain to end. An odd sort of keening began, assaulting ears used to silence. And then there was the thumping beat that was felt more than heard.
Her chest rose and fell. The keening developed into a pattern, one that started and stopped in time to her chests' movements. The floor beneath her felt hard and unwelcoming. She shrank from it, rejecting the alien sensation. Something stirred against her skin, a gentle kiss of sensation. Air, her mind supplied, it was air.
Her nerve endings were alive with sensation and spots danced across her closed eyelids. Her eyes opened slowly and blinked rapidly against the encroaching light. She held up a hand against the assault. Unable to see anything but a blur, she closed her eyes seeking the relief of the previous dark. But the light was too much. It followed her. Even with her eyes closed, it sunk below the lids and seared her retinas.
Gradually, though, her eyes adjusted, and she stared curiously at the room she occupied. She was lying at the bottom of a glass cylinder, one big enough to accommodate her curled up body. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her arms hugging them close as she hid her face against her knees.