Ember (The Dragao 1)

Instantly he stilled, let go of me, and gave me my space. I scrambled back on the pallet, far enough to the edge that I felt the unforgiving dirt floor greet my bared toes. I snapped my head down and looked at my feet, then to where my shoes sat just a short distance away. A quick look down said I was still very much dressed.

Azar didn’t move from where he lay, his upper body propped up by one of his big arms, his bicep bunched and flexed, the veins running up and down his forearm drawing my eyes and momentarily short-circuiting my brain. Would it be so bad to just move back to him, let Azar pull me in close… rub all that hardness against me?

I closed my eyes and shook my head, holding my hand out as if to ward him off, even though that was the last thing I wanted.

My eyes snapped open, and I gaped when Azar ran his tongue up the center of my palm, a growl leaving him as his eyes stayed locked on mine.

“If the skin of your hand tastes this sweet,” he said gruffly against my palm, which I hadn’t moved yet, because I was frozen from shock—and yearning, “I can only imagine how that sweet cunt of yours will taste and feel against my tongue.” He gave the center of my palm a soft kiss before pulling back and sitting up fully.

“What is going on?” I mumbled to myself and curled my fingers into my palm before placing it in my lap, as if I were holding on to that kiss he’d given me, keeping it close.

“I’ve finally found you,” he responded as if he thought I’d been asking him the question instead of thinking out loud.

I got up and walked toward the fire before I knew I moved. I stood there, not speaking, and watched as he uncoiled his big body from the pile of furs. I quickly averted my gaze when I saw his erection bounce slightly from the sudden shift of motion.

“Does your… kind not wear clothing?” I asked as I stared at the fire, the flames having dwindled down enough that they hardly gave off much more than a glow. But despite the low but ambient light in the cave, I could see well enough. Maybe too well, judging by what my dragon captor refused to wear.

“Does my nudity bother you?” His tone was nonjudgmental, more curious than anything.

I glanced at him, and the shadows and small flickering light from the fire accented all that hardness under his skin, all that male prowess. I felt that warm, familiar pool of wetness between my thighs just at the sight of him. His nostrils flared, and I felt my face heat, knowing he scented it, knowing he was very well aware he turned me on.

I forced myself to look away into those low flames. “No, it doesn’t bother me.” It was a bold-faced lie, but not one I was going to admit to.

There was a suspended moment of silence; then I heard some shuffling of materials and could picture him fully uncoiling that massively masculine body. I felt another wave of heat that had nothing to do with the fire moving through me. It was starting to piss me off.

“There will be people looking for me, wanting me back.” That was another lie, but he didn’t know that. Only Tilly would give a shit if I never came back.

“You mean the human male who touched what wasn’t his?” His voice was frighteningly cold… and so very close.

I turned around to face him and wrapped my arms around my waist. His words were as hard as the stone that surrounded us.

“Let the humans come. Let a hundred males come to try to take you from me.” Although his tone was even, there was no mistaking the violence laced within the words. “It would please me greatly to kill each and every one of them, to show you how strong I am, how capable I am in protecting my female.” He stalked forward like the predator he was. “And taking their lives would be so easy. Humans are weak.”

Compared to his kind, yeah… yeah, we certainly were.

He kept moving forward, kept crowding me. “There is nothing I hold more precious than you, mate. So let them come, and they’ll see what a Dragao does to those who threaten what’s his.”

I should have been angered, frightened at the possessiveness and proprietary tone laced in each letter he spoke. I should have… but I wasn’t.

I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat.

“Tell me what you’re called,” he coaxed, drawled out in that sexy, deep voice of his.

I found myself answering before I could be stubborn about it. “Emma.”

His eyes seemed to become even more hooded, his desire thicker, surrounding him. “Emma,” he purred my name, and he made it sound so sexual.