He could feel her fingers clench in his hair.
Every single sound she made drove the need in him higher, his dragon’s instincts roaring for him to finally possess their mate.
“The drawer,” she gasped, then reached out for it herself.
In the dusty drawer of the nightstand, there was an old candy wrapper, a torn business card—and a square little packet of foil. Dusty, too—but at that moment all they needed.
Triumphantly, Alyx grinned up at him as she ripped it open and then carefully smoothed the condom over his rock-hard erection.
Braeden heard himself groan. The touch of her long fingers sliding down his length was almost enough to set him off. Every touch of her burned through him like fire—but it wasn't enough to satisfy the dragon inside him.
He needed to be inside her. He needed to claim her.
Chapter Nine: Alyx
“Come on,” Alyx gasped, wriggling on the bed as she pushed down her panties.
Her heartbeat was as loud as thunder in her ears as he moved over her. She felt so frantic with need that she didn't even take the time to appreciate the powerful body flexing with muscle.
Right now, all she wanted was the sensation of his skin against hers.
For the first time in a long time she felt utterly alive and free. And then he pushed inside her, and she heard herself cry out.
She'd always enjoyed sex—with the right sort of guy. Unfortunately, genuinely good men who were also good at sex were hard to come by.
Now she found himself clutching at Braeden's broad shoulders, struggling to breathe through the thrusts that filled her with heat.
He was good at it. Damn good. Every nerve in her body was on fire.
Perhaps this was what happened if you had sex right after you'd been almost killed. Perhaps it was an adrenaline thing.
But right now she really didn't care, because the touch of his strong hands was all she'd ever wanted.
His hair teased against her cheek as he bent over her, and with a moan, she lifted her face towards his. His hair smelled like the shampoo he'd used—but there was still a faint scent of fire, of burning wood and smoke.
After what she'd been through, it should have been the last thing she liked—but she did.
She breathed in deep, thinking of the fire that had crackled along his fingers a few minutes ago. He'd rushed into the room completely naked and unarmed, all because he'd thought that she was in danger. No man she'd ever dated would have done that.
Not even the martial arts guy who'd dumped her after a week.
She drew her hands down his back, feeling the straining muscles as he drove himself into her. Her hips came up to meet him.
She was filled with heat to the core of her being, desperately digging her nails into his hard muscle as she arched beneath him, his lips hot against her own. Again and again he filled her, her inner walls tightening around him.
There was a strange, golden light she could see now. It grew brighter and brighter as the pleasure inside her rose.
And then, at last, her climax washed over her. Dimly, she heard herself moan as she trembled beneath him, her body pulsing around him.
He gasped her name, driving himself into her one last time as his powerful body tensed. She held onto his shoulders, and even through the long pulses of her own orgasm, she kept herself pressed against him, every single gasp he made keeping the pleasure alive, flowing through her like molten gold.
***
Half an hour later, she had showered again. She'd been forced to dress in her dirty clothes that were gray with ash—but at least her hair no longer looked as if she'd been hiking for a month in the wilderness without a brush.
She’d need to visit her hairdresser as soon
as possible, of course, because her formerly turquoise strand was now a very sad shade of dull blue. But for now, it was clean, and that was already a vast improvement.