An amorous one.
The silence stretched between them, the fact that he kept his back to her less than encouraging. But it would take more than mere body language to daunt Melissa Smith when she was on a mission. She stepped into the room and took the chair opposite the one Rafferty had occupied. The leather was worn soft and smooth, and the fire was warm against her legs.
“So, about this mate thing,” she said.
Rafferty spun suddenly to face her, his move deft and elegant. Once again, he had moved more quickly than she had anticipated. What else could he do? “What about it?”
“It has something to do with the firestorm, with these flames, right?” She lifted her hand, and the blue-green fire danced predictably from her fingertips, angling toward Rafferty as if burning in a stiff breeze. Or yearning for a connection. Melissa’s mouth went dry, and she felt a yearning of her own as Rafferty’s gaze brightened.
“The firestorm and its flames are a sign that a
Pyr
has found his destined mate.”
“I don’t believe in destiny,” Melissa said. “Do you?”
“Then believe in biology,” he said, avoiding her question and her gaze. This conversation made him uncomfortable, which was interesting. “The destined mate is the one woman who can conceive that
Pyr
’s son.”
There was no chance of that happening, but Melissa saw no reason to tell all of her secrets just yet. “So the flames are a sign?”
“And the firestorm’s heat mounts, until it is sated.” Rafferty arched a brow. “It becomes increasingly difficult to deny.”
Melissa leaned toward him, knowing that the white robe would gape at the neck. Rafferty’s eyes shone and his fist clenched, but he didn’t move closer. It seemed his entire body had become taut, which only fed Melissa’s urge to touch him.
Everywhere.
“So, the firestorm is about making more dragons?”
Rafferty frowned and glanced away. He was turning that ring again but seemed unaware of what he was doing. “There are those who believe as much. There are others who think the firestorm is a chance for a deeper partnership, one that endures after the firestorm is sated.”
Melissa could guess which perspective was Rafferty’s. She respected his sense of tradition and longevity. She wished she’d met him sooner, when she had still believed in the future, in love lasting forever, and in the possibility of happily ever after.
Her short marriage had destroyed that particular illusion.
Rafferty flicked a potent look in her direction, and she glimpsed how important this notion was to him. “There are those who believe the most successful firestorms are those that become permanent partnerships. A union that is more than the sum of the parts.”
Melissa didn’t want to talk about how she couldn’t be that mate for him. She didn’t want to talk about the future or the past—she wanted to talk about the present.
She wanted to savor the attraction between them.
So she changed the subject ever so slightly. “And the firestorm is sated when the mate conceives?”
“It’s sated when they consummate their relationship. Our understanding is that the moment is concurrent, that it takes only once for the mate to conceive the destined child.”
Melissa smiled. She couldn’t help it. “But we already did it once.”
Rafferty didn’t smile. If anything, he was more intent. “That was before the firestorm began to burn.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Important firestorms are launched by the light of a total lunar eclipse. It is common that the destined pair meet after that eclipse, so feel their firestorm in that first encounter.” He frowned and shrugged, then glanced at her. “We met sooner.”
“So it doesn’t count that we did it?”
Rafferty smiled warmly. “Do you think it didn’t count?”
“I mean in terms of making more dragons.”
“In those terms, no. Evidently it didn’t count, because the firestorm is still burning.”
Saved by a technicality.
Melissa didn’t believe in forever anymore, but she believed in the moment. This moment. She believed in doing what felt right, and in asking for what she wanted.
If she told him everything about her personal history, this moment would be lost. She feared that he would turn against her, once he knew the truth.
Just one more taste of him. That was all she wanted before he left her and she was alone again. It seemed such a small thing to ask.
Melissa stood up and crossed the short distance between them. She caught Rafferty’s face in her hands and stretched up to brush her lips across his. She heard his intake of breath, felt him tense, saw the hardness of his erection in his jeans. He wanted her just as she was, and that was the best aphrodisiac imaginable.
“Let’s sate the firestorm,” she whispered. “Right here, right now.” She savored the flash of pleasure in his eyes, then kissed him with conviction.
A gift unexpected!
Rafferty wasn’t inclined to despair, although he had felt since the eclipse that every force was allied against him. He had been brooding about his situation, uncertain how to proceed, even as he’d listened to Melissa sleeping. He had been dreading their next conversation, her inevitable questions, the airing of his uncertainties.
He’d told her about the firestorm, fully anticipating that such an independent woman would refuse the burden of bearing his child. He’d been certain that his firestorm was doomed and that the darkfire would burn long and vigorously.
Wreaking havoc for the
Pyr
.
On the other hand, he appreciated that Melissa was forthright and that she didn’t shirk from hard truths. He’d known he could tell her the full story and she would rationally decide how to proceed. Even if he guessed what her answer might be, he owed her that explanation.
To have his mate consent to sating the firestorm, even knowing its import, was far more than he could have anticipated.
It was a sign that he had only to have faith and that the Great Wyvern was indeed on his side. It changed everything for Rafferty. It gave him hope. It restored his ability to trust that all would end well, no matter how long the odds.
That
was something to celebrate.
And he knew exactly how best to celebrate.
Rafferty caught Melissa around the waist and pulled her up against him, angling his head to deepen their kiss. She was as sweet and responsive as he remembered, although he sensed a new hunger in her. Was it because of the firestorm? Or was it because they already had some familiarity with each other?
Rafferty didn’t care. The dragon roared within him, as the flames of the darkfire blazed with sapphire light. He wanted everything she had to give. Holding her captive to his kiss with one hand locked around her nape, he used the other hand to unfasten the belt of her bathrobe. She wriggled like a fish in his grasp, shaking the robe over her shoulders, then locking her fingers into his hair once more.
When her bare breasts collided with his chest, Rafferty started at the sparks that flew from that point, then pressed her more tightly against him. He wanted to merge their bodies in a more intimate embrace than the one they’d already shared—he wanted the consummation of his firestorm to be more than memorable.
He’d waited so long.
He wanted their mating to be perfect in every way.
He wanted this permanent bond rooted in a potent memory.
Melissa met him more than halfway, her eyes closed as she echoed the ardor of his kiss. She kissed him deeply, her teeth grazing his lips, her tongue teasing and tempting. She seemed to be starving for him, desperate for his touch, as determined as he was to push their lovemaking to the next level of passion. He could smell her wet heat, mixing with the faint lingering aura of her perfume. The combination tantalized him.
He was shocked when she broke her kiss.
He was even more shocked when Melissa unzipped his jeans, pushed them over his hips, and closed her mouth over his erection.
Forthright.
That was all he had time to think before sensation claimed him completely. Rafferty was dizzy with the unexpected pleasure of her touch, and he clutched the back of one chair to ensure that he remained standing.
He didn’t evade her, though. Melissa wove a spell with her caress that drove every sensible thought from his mind, ensnaring Rafferty in a web of pleasure and sensation. He closed his eyes against the growing heat of the firestorm, against the assault of the vivid blue flames, against the sure touch of his lover.
Did he dare to imagine that they might make an enduring partnership? Did he dare to hope that in agreeing to have his child, this independent woman with her clear gaze might put her hand in his for the duration? He suspected he could spend a lifetime unraveling her secrets, and he was ready to volunteer.
As she touched him, kindling his passion so deftly that she might have shared his every thought, so sure of what would rouse him that she might have loved him for decades, Rafferty dared to imagine as much. He dared to believe that this firestorm truly could bring him his heart’s desire.
When he was so hard and thick that he couldn’t stand temptation any longer, when he knew he would explode at any time, he knew it would be an abomination to spill his seed recklessly.
He caught Melissa by the shoulders just before he came. He lifted her into his arms, then set her in the caramel leather armchair he had vacated.
She gasped at his move, her eyes widening in surprise, but he braced her buttocks in his hands, dropped to his knees, and licked at her sweetness. She caught her breath in pleasure, then seemed to swoon, those lips softening as she surrendered to his touch in turn.
She put her feet on his shoulders, the smooth curve of her arches sliding over his skin as she pointed her toes. Her trust fed Rafferty’s desire, making the flame within him burn higher and hotter.
Melissa leaned her head back and reveled in his touch, moaning and bucking her hips. He felt the golden heat of the fire against his skin, while the azure heat of the darkfire danced between them, illuminating every place their bodies touched. It wasn’t Rafferty’s imagination that the blue flames leapt higher as Melissa’s passion rose.
He heard the beat of her heart and felt his own match pace to it. Their hearts pounded as one, the sound of hers echoing in his ears, the resonance of his own multiplying the sensation, overwhelming him with a sense of communion.
He heard the flutter of her breath and heard it deepen as she became more aroused. He felt his own breath synchronize in pace, increasing the sensation that they were not two meeting as one, but one that had been separated, its halves now coming together in glorious union once again. He took her to within a heartbeat of release, then paused, building her desire to the cusp of satisfaction over and over again. He denied her the final rush of pleasure each time, knowing the result would be greater for it. She moaned and writhed, gasped at his touch, begged him not to stop.
He felt the flush sliding over her skin as surely as the heat kindled beneath his own flesh, and he knew this time he would push her to the point of release. He felt her clitoris tighten and grow hard, just as he hardened at the sweet taste of her pleasure.
He nipped that taut bud, a quick and hard touch that sent Melissa over the edge.
She shouted, clutched his head, and rocked against him. Her pulse raced with new vigor as the orgasm claimed her. Her knees locked around his shoulders, and she bucked as he still refused to stop his caress, driving her on and on and on. Her release seemed to last forever, and he loved every second of it.
When Melissa slumped limp and exhausted back into the chair, Rafferty thought she might fall asleep again.
But she looked at him, her eyes blazing with demand.
“All of you,” she whispered, then beckoned with one finger. “All of you,
now
.”
Rafferty smiled slowly as he eased himself over her. She smiled in return as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles hooking together behind his back. She inhaled as he slid his strength into her wet heat, drawing him deeper and deeper. He felt welcomed, as if they were destined to fit together so perfectly, as if there could be no other woman to hold him just so.
“More,” she whispered, rolling her hips so that he was more completely buried within her. Rafferty closed his eyes and caught his breath, struggling for control. Melissa dug her nails into the back of his shoulders. “All of you,” she demanded again, twining against him and kissing him beneath the ear.
Rafferty shivered and pressed into her more deeply. Melissa licked his ear and blew against the wet flesh. He shuddered. She moved her hips and he was lost in her spell again. The sapphire flames leapt and danced around them, sliding over their skin and between their bodies, heating, illuminating, exciting.
Rafferty could even see the blue haze when he closed his eyes. As he moved within Melissa, as she provoked him much as he had provoked her, he felt the heat burn brighter. It became whiter and hotter, burning more vigorously in place. Its demand increased, mingled with Melissa’s scent, tickled the dragon to wakefulness, and utterly enchanted Rafferty.
He cupped her buttocks and stood up, easily carrying her weight with him. She locked her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He met her simmering gaze as he slid his hand between them. He felt her clitoris harden again and saw her eyes sparkle in anticipation. Feeling that she was on the cusp once more, he moved his fingers with surety, knowing already what she liked.
He dared to imagine how powerful their lovemaking would become over time, as they each learned how best to drive the other wild. The notion excited him as little else could have done.
Rafferty deliberately drove Melissa to climax, holding his own reaction back with an effort. Melissa convulsed as she reached her orgasm, her legs tightening around him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her cry rippling across his cheek. He watched her, loving how the blue flames of the darkfire touched her skin, surrounded her, and made her seem to glow like a rare treasure.