Page 11 of Courted By the Grumpy Dragon (Monsters of Saltford Bay #2)

Chapter Seven

Nina

I must have lost my mind. It’s the only explanation.

Because I’m in the arms of a dragon, and my head is spinning from how aroused I am.

And that dragon is still not kissing me. In fact, he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me, but he’s holding back for some absurd reason.

I want this. I want him.

"Stop fighting it."

The words leave my mouth before my brain catches up, but I don't take them back.

I can't. Not when Kraxon's golden eyes burn with the kind of hunger that makes my knees weak, not when his cinnamon scent wraps around me like a physical caress, not when every cell in my body screams that this is exactly where I belong.

His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing across my cheekbones with devastating gentleness. The heat radiating from his palms makes me dizzy, or maybe that's just the way he's looking at me, like I'm something precious and dangerous all at once.

"If we do this, Nina..." His voice is rough, deeper than usual. "I may never be able to let you go. Dragons mate for life. This is why I can’t help releasing my pheromones when I’m around you. I want you, not for tonight, not for tomorrow. I want you as my mate. For life."

I still don’t care. I may be crazy after all.

The warning should terrify me. Should send me running back to my safe, predictable life above the library where the biggest risk is a paper cut from an overdue notice. Instead, I press closer, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt.

The hardness of a sizeable erection pushes against the soft flesh of my stomach, and I fight against the urge to wrap my fingers around it.

"Maybe I don't want you to let me go."

Something snaps in his expression. The careful control he wears like armor cracks, revealing the raw need underneath. His mouth crashes down on mine with a desperation that steals my breath and sets my blood on fire.

This isn't the restrained kiss from the corn maze.

This is possession, claiming, the kind of kiss that rewrites your understanding of what kissing can be.

His lips burn against mine, literally burn with dragon heat that makes me gasp into his mouth.

He swallows the sound, one hand tangling in my hair while the other spans my lower back, pulling me against the hard length of his body.

I've kissed men before. Nice men. Safe men who tasted like toothpaste and made polite conversation afterward.

None of them prepared me for Kraxon Ashbane.

His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open for him eagerly—maybe too eagerly—but I'm past caring about looking desperate. He tastes like cinnamon and something darker, more complex. Something that makes me want to bite his lower lip just to see what happens.

So I do.

He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest where it presses against mine. His wings rustle behind him, the membrane catching the firelight like stained glass. When he pulls back to look at me, his pupils are narrow slits of black in molten gold.

"You're sure about this?"

I answer by working at the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers.

The fabric parts to reveal golden skin covered in smooth scales that catch the light like tiny mirrors.

My breath hitches as I spread my palms across his chest, marveling at the heat radiating from him, at the way his muscles jump under my touch.

"I'm sure."

He captures my wrists, bringing my hands to his lips to press kisses to my palms. The gesture is so tender it makes my throat tight with emotion I wasn't expecting.

"You're perfect," he murmurs against my skin. "So perfect. My Heart’s Fire. "

His mouth finds mine again as his hands explore the curves of my body through my sweater.

Every touch sends sparks racing along my nerve endings.

Then his fingers find the hem and pause just a second, waiting for permission.

I pull back just enough to see his face, all hard angles and golden scales, looking at me with an expression of ravenous hunger.

I nod and raise my arms to help him, suddenly grateful I wore my good bra tonight.

The sweater hits the floor somewhere behind me. Kraxon's eyes track over my exposed skin with an intensity that makes me feel like a goddess and a sacrifice all at once. The reverent way he looks at me melts any self-consciousness I might have felt.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his breath releasing another wave of intoxicating pheromone-laced cinnamon scent. "So beautiful."

“Now you.” I say, bolder than I’ve ever been before.

His lips lift in the sexiest grin I've ever seen, and his shirt joins my sweater on the floor.

I gasp at the expanse of spectacular masculine beauty offered before me.

His chest is all hard planes and golden scales, smooth and supple like liquid metal made flesh.

His muscles are lean and hard, perfectly sculpted.

The scales follow the contours of his body like living armor, larger across his chest and tapering to delicate patterns along his ribs.

Behind him, his wings catch my attention, partially spread in the firelight. The membranes stretch between elegant bone structures, thin and yet incredibly strong looking. They're beautiful and alien and utterly mesmerizing.

I take my time exploring the expanse of golden skin revealed, tracing the scales that pattern his shoulders and forearms while Kraxon watches my every move, his eyes transfixed on the tips of my fingers as they run along his body.

They're smoother than I expected, warm to the touch, shifting slightly under my fingertips like they're alive.

Each scale feels supple yet strong, creating a texture that's both familiar and completely foreign.

My gaze drifts to his wings again, and hesitation freezes my hand in midair. They look so delicate, so powerful. I want to touch them, but I'm afraid of overstepping some boundary I don't understand.

"May I?" I whisper, my fingers hovering inches from the nearest wing membrane.

His golden eyes darken with something between desire and vulnerability. "Yes."

I reach out slowly, my fingertips barely grazing the taut skin. It's impossibly soft, like silk warmed by sunlight, and I can feel the delicate network of veins beneath my touch.

Kraxon hisses, his entire body going rigid.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No." His voice is strained. "They're very sensitive. When you touch them, I can feel it everywhere."

I file that information away for later use, my fingers trailing down the ridged muscles of his abdomen. He hisses again when I reach the waistband of his trousers, his hands catching mine to still their exploration.

"Not yet," he says, lifting me effortlessly in his arms. I gasp at the casual display of strength, how easily he lifts me, like I weigh nothing at all. "I want to do this properly."

The narrow staircase to the loft creaks under our weight as he carries me up, my arms looped around his neck.

The space under the eaves is intimate and warm, moonlight streaming through the dormer windows to paint everything in silver and shadow.

A queen bed dominates the small room, its covers already turned down.

He sets me on my feet beside the bed, his hands gentle as they find the clasp of my bra. The scrap of lace falls to the floor, and I resist the urge to cover myself as his gaze travels over my bare breasts with obvious appreciation.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he says, his hands skimming from my shoulders to my wrists and back again. "I want you so bad it hurts just looking at you."

I reach for him, needing to touch, to taste, to confirm this is really happening.

My mouth finds the scales along his collarbone, and I'm rewarded with a sharp intake of breath when I trace them with my tongue.

He tastes like sin and musk, and I know it must be those pheromones, but I want to taste more of him.

I want to lick every available inch of his skin until the taste of him is imprinted on my mind.

So I do it. Again. I’ve never been so bold, but here I am. Bold, aroused, and incredibly confident.

My tongue traces down his chest, circling his peaked nipples before dipping down lower. I run it over his abs and then lower until I find his navel. His pants are stretched by an impressive erection, but as I reach for it, he stops me again.

This time, I growl like a feral beast at the frustration. But I don’t have time to dwell on it since he takes over, lifting me again and laying me on the bed, following me down to cage me beneath his powerful body .

Then it’s my turn to get lost under his touch.

His hands are everywhere, mapping my body with a thoroughness that makes me shake.

When he cups my breasts, thumbs brushing over my peaked and sensitized nipples, I arch into his touch with a soft cry.

The heat of his palms brands me, marks me as his in a way that should terrify me but only makes me burn hotter.

"Kraxon, please."

His wings spread wide above us, blocking out the moonlight to create our own private world.

"I want to taste you," he says against my throat, his voice a low rumble that I feel in my bones. "All of you."

His mouth trails down my body, pausing to lavish attention on my breasts until I'm writhing beneath him. Every touch is fire, every kiss a brand. When he reaches the waistband of my jeans, he looks up at me for permission.

I lift my hips in answer. I don’t think I could have said a word even if I wanted to.

The denim disappears along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare beneath his burning gaze. He settles between my thighs, his breath hot against my core.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, and then his mouth is on me, and I forget how to think.

Dragon heat, dragon tongue, dragon intensity. All of it washes over me as Kraxon feasts on me like I’m his last meal. His expert tongue laps at my entrance, up and down my slit before circling my needy clit and repeating his torture all over again.