Page 55 of Flameborne: Fury (Emberquell Academy #2)

~ DONAVYN ~

Bren came alive. Inside me.

Not just the bond—though it rippled and pulsed deliciously.

But Bren. The space she’d nestled behind my ribs before, she inhabited now.

And not a simple sense of her. I felt her —felt the arch of her back, the pressure in her lungs because she held her breath.

Felt the joy rushing in her veins and trembling in her bones.

She was alive within me. And me within her.

Neither of us moved, our bodies trembling as we hung in the balance of that incredible joining, quivering on the edge of bliss, overwhelmed by the tectonic shift of our collective worlds.

Her mind, her body, her past, her hope, it was all there, rushing at me in images and sensations so fast I would have to sift through them later.

The dragons shifted and called, but faded slowly as the storm of Bren came to peace within me and the shock of that melding passed. I braced over her, clinging to me, her body curved and eager.

Sliding fingers into her hair and pulling back her head, I locked eyes with her and felt the jolt of thrill and need that coursed through her.

She adored it.

‘Are you okay?’ I sent, still stunned to find I could reach her in the same manner I reached Kgosi, but overjoyed when her eyes lit up and she beamed.

‘Yes, Donavyn. God, yes!’

She took my face in her hands, pulled me down to a desperate kiss.

And when her tongue slid against mine, I groaned, my cock swelling within her.

Her mouth opened wider on a gasp. We both already quivered, already so close—but the sensations—my body and hers, my thrill and hers, my pleasure and hers—were intoxicating.

I thrust into her again and heard her cry at the same time I felt her welcome me, her head dropping back into my hand and her body rising to meet me.

She felt hollow, a space only I could fill.

I trembled from head to toe, fighting for control as I was pulled inexorably closer to that edge.

Every time our skins brushed I prickled with my pleasure and hers. Each touch, every stroke. I didn’t want it to end.

‘Donavyn.’

Even in my head she was breathless, as overcome as I was—and as thrilled.

“I have you,” I whispered, curling a hand under her thigh and pulling her knee higher, gasping with joy when I felt her skin pebble and the rush of pleasure that coursed through her at my touch. But it was clear, we wouldn’t last long. We were both besieged in sensation and quickly losing control.

With a delighted cry, she pulled me down, urged me closer, took my mouth.

I didn’t resist. Let myself cover her, discovered how she adored the feeling of my weight pressing her down, gave a shaky laugh of joy at her shiver when I teased the skin under her ear with my lips.

We tangled limbs and pressed bodies, mingled breaths and carved out need. Every roll of my hips sent shuddering pleasure through both of us, every stroke of her hand raised the hair on both our necks.

I could not get closer, and I begged God to make her my world because nothing had ever touched me this way.

Then, unable to stop the desperate pursuit of need, we picked up the pace.

Hands clinging, voices rising, I rolled her over and sat up so we were face to face.

She gasped as I gripped her shoulder and her hip and held her into my thrusts—rasping with joy when her eyes flew wide, groaning with pleasure at the sight of her breasts bouncing, her fingers clawed into my chest, my neck, my shoulder.

‘Donavyn. Oh shit!’

She tightened on me and her head lolled back, I dove for her throat, moaning on her skin as her pleasure increased mine, which expanded hers, and the rolling waves of delight became a blustering storm, shoving us both closer and closer until the storm wave crested and we were both thrown over, down, tumbling, crying, gasping into the valley of that impossible, perfect end.

I blinked, panting in short, sharp huffs. I was on my back again, and Bren collapsed on my chest. Her hair drifted across my cheek. The skin on my arms and legs bare to the air growing cold almost immediately. But the rest of me was blisteringly warm.

And then, as my breath returned, and I became aware of light and sky and sweat, Bren lifted her head and pushed her hair back.

Her eyes sparkled and shocked. She reached up with a shaking hand and pushed my hair out of my eyes.

Then she spoke in my head.

‘Mine,’ she sent softly.

And then she smiled. And I swear, that was the moment the sun came out.

She couldn’t stop staring at me. And I couldn’t stop touching her. We’d cleaned quickly in the chilly creek, made love again, and now were settled under that first tree where I’d sat with her, convinced I’d never be enough to help her heal. But here we were.

One.

The bond sang between us, rolling and pulsing, glowing in response to the waves of love and joy echoing between us.

I couldn’t fathom it. When I looked at her as she searched for Akhane in the trees, she felt it and turned to meet my gaze. When she felt an uncomfortable tree root at her back, I knew and shifted to help her.

My skin was new, a world of sensation—hers, and mine.

But then, so was my heart.

The renewed bond was beautiful. But it wasn’t only the beauty that unified us.

I could feel the creeping darkness at her back. The shadows chased away by the pleasure and joy of our love, but not yet defeated.

We had won a battle, not the war.

And the longer we sat in virtual silence, absorbing this new unity, the closer the rest of the world became.

Kgosi had warned the dragons not to follow us, but eventually the King would demand to know where I’d been taken, and why. If we didn’t return it would create more problems and require more resources at a time when the whole Kingdom was in need.

And yet…

“I agree. We have to go back,” Bren sighed.

I blinked. This awareness of each other would take some getting used to.

“But,” she added, then turned her head to meet my eyes. “I want to talk to you first.”

“Anything,” I said, and meant it.

Her smile crept up again, but faded quickly. “When I thanked you earlier—”

“Bren that isn’t necessary—”

“—it wasn’t a little thing,” she insisted, her expression growing stern. “Don’t tell yourself that.”

I sighed. “I don’t. I only want you to stop seeing yourself as a burden to be borne.”

Her lips thinned and she turned away. I could feel the sudden tightness in her chest. But she was thinking. I could feel that too.

“Bren?”

She looked at me.

“Tell me how this started? What caused you such fear? Why did you give me the safeword? Why did you lash out?”

She went still in my arms, but there was only the tiniest jolt of fear in her.

Then she placed her palm on my chest and I took a deep breath, feeling the bond swell between us before she answered.

“The Queen,” she said quietly, then looked up at me. “She told me you were hers.”

I went very, very still. “What?” My disapproval sent another jangle of fear through her, but it passed as quickly as it came. I put my hand over hers on my chest and swallowed. “Tell me.”

“I know she was lying, now,” she said, her fingers curling into my chest. She looked down at where she touched me and nodded to herself, affirming her conviction. “But when she first told me, it was like the past happened again. For those minutes, you were him.”

Searing, white-hot fucking rage. Volcanic—

I had to get past that. I knew it would stop me taking true vengeance, and destroy us if I didn’t. But how? How the fuck was I supposed to care and protect without violence if there was someone out there, hurting her?

More than one someones.

“The Queen claimed me? Bren, I am not and have never been hers.” I pressed her hand harder against my chest, swallowing back the wave of anger and trying to show her—

“I know you aren’t. But was there ever—”

“No.” Unable to give this any more room, I clamped a hand to the back of her neck, tipped my forehead against hers, and begged God to show me how to show her. She’d opened herself, given me so much, let me live it through her mind. I needed to do the same.

So, I held her, touching, threw my heart wide open, and let myself sink into that memory, praying she could see it, too. That she’d feel my experience of it, like I’d felt hers.

“Donavyn, I wish to be with you…”

I caught the Queen’s hand as it brushed my chest, as she leaned up on her toes, reaching for my hair, her lips full and parted as she came in for a kiss, her breath fluttering on my lips.

Everything in me recoiled.

With a hiss I yanked her hand from my chest and stumbled back, holding her at arm’s length as I spoke through a clenched jaw.

“Diaan—stop, and listen,” I hissed, letting her see the anger and fear in my eyes. “You know I have no wish to hurt you, or disrespect. But this cannot be.”

“Alexi doesn’t care if—”

“It has nothing to do with the King!”

Bren tensed in my arms, but I didn’t open my eyes. I clung to her, begging silently for her to see, to know as deeply as I did that there was no threat to her, no matter how wealthy or powerful another woman might be.

“…I told you that Kgosi took Akhane as a mate.”

Diaan nodded, a small pucker appearing between her brows. “I understand that gives you a reason to bring the girl with you and even though I don’t like it, I understand that it would be too much to ask you to remain alone. I can accept that you must have your—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” I snarled.

To my relief, when Diaan met my eyes she drew back half a step at the sheer rage she found there.

Determined not to give her another moment to divert me, I continued, speaking through my teeth. “That was not a simple tale to suit my needs, Diaan. My dragon chose a mate and bonded Akhane. And that has brought Bren and I closer. Far closer. We, too, are bonded. In truth. Mates. Like the dragons.”

Diaan’s brows pinched over her nose. “You’ve always told us that when dragons bond their mate’s riders are simple allies—”