Destiny Kills (Myth and Magic 1)

“But you’ve lost—”

“Don’t,” I repeated, then rose unsteadily, balancing precariously on one leg. “We need to go farther into the water.”

He raised his eyebrows, but rose. “It’s freezing in that lake.”

“What if I promise to keep you warm?”

A smile played across his lush lips. “Tempting, but let’s face it, the cold will still play havoc with the better parts of me.”

“The loch won’t affect you like that. Trust me,” I said softly.

He studied me for a moment, blue eyes serious despite the smile teasing his lips. “Why is this so important?”

“Because it’s a tradition in sea dragon families.” I hesitated, knowing the importance of what I was asking, and hoping like hell I hadn’t misread everything I’d been feeling and seeing in him. “When one sea dragon dies, we celebrate his or her life by creating another.”

“Ah.” He touched my cheek lightly, then ran his fingers down to my lips. My body quivered under his touch, desire spreading like wildfire. “I see.”

“Do you?” I asked, my gaze searching his intently. “This will create life between us, and that child will bind us more than any words ever could. Is the thief ready for that sort of responsibility? Ready for me to be a permanent part of your life?”

“The thief was a goner the minute the woman with wild-looking hair decided to play chicken in the middle of an Oregon highway.”

He smiled, and there in his eyes was all the emotion I could ever want. Love, desire, need. It was right there, a fierceness shining in the brightness of his eyes. And the ache in my heart eased a little, because while I might have lost my parents, I’d gained something else. A lover, a companion, a friend. A man who would be with me, stand by me, no matter what happened, for the rest of my life.

“You couldn’t escape me now, even if you wanted to,” he added, then leaned forward and kissed me. “You complete me, Destiny. There’s no other place I want to be, and nothing else I’d rather do than walk into that water with you and celebrate your mother’s life. I just wish it wasn’t so fucking cold.”

I laughed, gloriously, deliriously happy for the first time in years and years, and threw my hands around his neck. “God, I’m so glad you said that, because I’ve been in love with you for what seems like forever. I was just too chicken to say anything.”

He kissed me, soft and slow and oh-so gloriously, and then I helped him strip. When he was finally naked, we walked into the deeper water. It was cold, but I didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to, either.

He pulled me close. I melted against him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him again, hard and fierce, until my head was spinning and I wasn’t sure whether it was lack of air or sheer happiness.

After that, his touch and his lips seemed to be everywhere, fueled by urgency and yet filled with passion. I let my fingers roam, giving them the freedom of his glorious body, touching and tasting and teasing, even as he touched and teased. The deep-down ache blossomed and grew, becoming such a sweet agony that I groaned, arching my back, pressing into his touch, wanting him as fiercely as I’d wanted anything in my life.

Finally, he slid deep inside and it felt so good, so right, I could only groan. I wrapped my legs around him, holding him tight against me, wanting every bit of him. He wrapped his arms around me and leaned forward, kissing my nose gently.

“This is how I’ll always remember you,” he said softly, his eyes the blue of the rising day, bright with the wildness and need. “With the dark waters at your back, the heat of passion in your face, and the power of the dawn shining in your eyes.”

“Not dawn,” I whispered, “the loch. And she is getting frustrated that you won’t get down to business.”

“Sweetheart, she’s not the only one. But teasing is good for the soul.”

“Not my soul.”

He laughed, a sound that curled joyously around us, filling the air with sheer happiness.

He began to move—not urgently, not desperately, but slowly, passionately. And I answered in kind, kissing him deeply, my arms tightening against his neck, as if I never, ever meant to let him go.

“Look at me,” he ordered, after a while.

I opened my eyes, looked into his. And again I felt like I was falling deep into those wild pools of blue, slipping deep under the surface, captured and secured, never to be free from his grip again. And I couldn’t have been happier.

He began to move, sliding in and out, and the feel of him penetrated every fiber, enveloping me in a heat that was so basic, and yet so very pure. His hands were on my hips, supporting my butt, holding me steady as he rocked deep, his touch seeming to brand my skin as his thrusts gradually became more and more urgent, until passion and desire and need became a wildfire that burned through every part of me.

“Come with me, sweetheart.”

His words were hoarse, urgent, his breath hot as it whispered past my cheek. His powerful body stroked fast and deep, driving me insane with need. I tightened my legs around him, urging him deeper still, wanting, needing, every inch of him. He groaned, and thrust harder, and it felt so good I cried out in pleasure. Then the sweet pressure broke, and I was drowning, shuddering, under the force of a glorious release.

“Oh God, yes!”