Heat. Desire. Pure, pure rapture.
Her explosion sent tingles into every cell of her body, every corner of her mind.
It was wonderful.
But not as wonderful as riding her dragon in her dreams.
5
Damn.
Aidan nearly lost his footing as he stumbled out of his kitchen. He shot his load right there in his bathrobe. For no apparent reason. Except—
Kristen must have climaxed. It was the only explanation. But if she had climaxed…
Damn her! She was with another man. Silver rage rose within him. Aidan would kill him, whoever he was. And then he would fuck her so thoroughly that she’d never desire another as long as she lived.
He raced to his bedroom, showered quickly, and then sat down on his bed with his head in his hands. If there had been any doubt in his mind about Kristen, it had been dismissed last night.
She was his.
And he had begun the bonding with her. He would feel it every time she came from now on, just as she would feel every one of his orgasms.
Guilt ate at his gut. He had breached ethics by appearing to her in a dream. Okay, it hadn’t even been a dream. He’d just made sure she thought it was. He had crossed a line. Normally, he’d have let nature take its course, but time was a luxury he did not possess. The bonding had to be initiated. He’d had no other choice.
And he’d be lying if he said he regretted his actions. Guilt was one thing. Regret? No way. Being with her, making love to her, had been the most intensely satisfying encounter of his life. She was part of him now. She existed in his heart, his soul. He’d waited nearly centuries for his mate.
After an eternity of solitary purgatory, he’d finally found her. The perfect woman to complete him.
From the first moment he had seen Kristen, looking like a schoolmistress sitting behind her counter in the bookstore, he had wanted her. Her spicy floral scent had invaded him, consumed him, and he’d sensed she was the one he had been seeking for so long.
Heat exuded from her. Oh, she tried to hide it underneath those conservative clothes and granny glasses, but fire lay within her. Fire Aidan could stoke.
Her eyes of gold, hair of ripe chestnuts, lips of crimson. And her fragrance… Remembering the intoxicating aroma made him stiff again.
Now all he had to do was wait for her to trust him. Then punish her severely for bedding another man. And fuck her senseless.
And he had to do all this before Micah discovered her.
Shit.
Seconds were ticking by. Precious, precious seconds.
* * *
She was wearing her hair down—unusual for her at work—and sunlight streamed through the front window and sprinkled it with gossamer highlights. She’d left the top two buttons of her blouse open, and she absently trailed her fingers up and down the exposed flesh. Aidan’s cock stirred in his jeans. Damn, she was sex on a stick, and she had no idea. How would he keep other males away from her?
He observed all this from outside the bookshop, his dragon vision boring through the bookshelves in his way. He sniffed, his dragon olfaction granting him solace. Thank God. He didn’t smell another man on her.
He smiled as the image of Kristen, flushed and naked atop her rumpled bed, her finger sliding into her cunt, flashed through his mind. Of course. She had come by her own hand.
And she had thought of him.
His cock twitched again. He had to have her. Had to convince her. For real this time. Not in her imagined dreams.
He walked into the shop.
She looked up, frowned and then glanced at her watch. Yes, he was early. It wasn’t even ten. But he needed to see her. Had to know for sure whether another man had touched her. He walked swiftly to the counter and looked her straight in the eye.
“Do you want to go for a ride?”
She removed her glasses. Sweet Lord, her amber eyes were beautiful. They were the color of the sunrise. Dark umber lashes—so long—radiated outward like the sun’s rays.
“Excuse me?”
He cleared his throat. “A ride. On my bike. With me.”
“Mr. Butler, we hardly know—”
“Aidan. My name’s Aidan.”
“Okay. Aidan. We hardly know each other. Besides, I need to stay at the store.”
“Aren’t you the owner?”
“Yeah.”
“Then close up for a few hours. Come on a ride with me. Please.”
How pathetic was he? Begging a woman he had hardly spoken two words to—except during a liaison she didn’t remember—to ditch work and go riding. They were bonded, but she didn’t know that.
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” she said.
“What?”
“Okay. I’ll go for a ride with you.”
6
Clearly she had lost her mind.
Although closing the store on a summer weekday morning wouldn’t cost her a lot of business, it wasn’t something she ever did. And certainly not to get on a motorcycle with a man who was pretty much a stranger to her. Not in her fantasies and dreams, but in reality? Yes, he was a stranger. Abandoning her shop to go riding with a stranger, no matter how hot he was, was not Kristen Ross.