Page 11

“If you want to conquer the world, you best have dragons.”

— George R.R. Martin

Nii Jima was one of the Izu Seven Islands, south of the Shimoda Shizuoka Prefecture and farther south of Tokyo on the mainland.

The Mukai-yama complex in the south and the Achiyama lava dome in the north were formed during the island’s only volcanic eruptions over twelve hundred years ago. It was the Rhyolite lava that gave the island its famous white cliffs and pristine white sandy beaches.

Despite that the island had not experienced volcanic activity for many generations, it was prone to series of earthquakes, averaging around ten to as many as twenty earthquakes of magnitude five or greater each year. Because of this, the island remained mostly unpopulated and boasted a diverse and rare marine life that harkened back to olden days.

Koga stone, a pumice-derived rock of rhyolite was coveted as a construction material and also used in the making of transparent green glass art and moyai art. The stone was indigenous only to Nii-jima and Lipari Island, Italy.

Moyai Hill, overlooking Yunohama and Maehama beaches, contained more than one hundred large stone carvings—of animals, humanoid figures and shrines. In the local dialect, moyai meant “to work together in effort,” making Ben wonder about the different Kinds of beings that once inhabited this island in harmony.

He had no doubt Immortals used to dwell here. Perhaps they still did.

“Wow,” Lizzy murmured in wonder, taking in the fantastically gorgeous sights all around her.

From the violet and pink sky as dusk descended, the swathes of gauzy clouds, the sapphire sea glistening beneath the last rays of sunlight, to the fine sugary beaches and towering white cliffs.

“It’s like a different world here,” she breathed with awe.

“Surreal.”

They were standing at the edge of a hidden hot spring on one of the jagged cliffs, surrounded by gigantic koga statues. No one else was about. In fact, during their trek across the island after they arrived by a small fishing boat, they’d barely come across a handful of inhabitants.

The locals nodded to them politely when they passed; some even smiled in greeting. But they were otherwise ignored. People went about their daily lives as if tourists were commonplace, nothing of note, though Ben knew that the island didn’t have many tourists as a rule. It was how the place remained so untouched by civilization. Still so raw in its ageless beauty.

“The Immortals who live here likely have a hand in keeping it this way,” he said now.

Lizzy turned to him.

“What kind of Immortals live here?”

“Perhaps those with an affinity to water, air or earth, given the remoteness of the island, the constantly shifting clouds, and the earthquakes that often shake it,” Ben deduced.

“But I do not know for certain. Ryu, one of the Dark King Ramses’ Chosen warriors, had done some reconnaissance here. It’s why I selected this island as our destination. What’s more, his sire, an air Elemental by the name of Eli, used to live here for a time. No known Immortal is registered to this location presently, but that doesn’t mean they don’t visit and perhaps live nearby, likely on the mainland.”

“There’s a registry of Immortals?” Lizzy asked, intrigued.

“There are only twenty thousand or so Immortals in the world at any given time,” Ben explained. “It’s not difficult to keep track of us all.”

“Those borne of nature, in any case,” he added.

“So, does that mean there are those borne…of other means?” she read between the lines.

He gave a brief nod.

“Immortals have toyed with the magic of Creation since the Age of Gods. I believe part of the reason is because it’s so very rare for Immortals to procreate. Naturally born children are the most precious of Gifts to any Mated pair.”

“Oh,” Lizzy uttered, fascinated.

“Perhaps it’s the Universe’s way of limiting the power in these supernaturally powerful beings,” Ben continued.

“At the same time, Immortals are the closest beings to the original gods who created life. There are those who seek to amass power for its own sake.”

“How are Immortals created if not born?” Lizzy asked next.

“For thousands of years, Dark Ones have turned humans into what our modern culture would call ‘vampires’ by injecting a sliver of their soul into the human once they are drained of blood to the point of death.”

Lizzy made a grimacing face at that.

Ben didn’t blame her. It was a gruesome, often painful process, if the Dark One didn’t bother to inject numbness or pleasure into it through their venom. His mother had saved his father’s life in just this manner.

“These turned humans crave blood like an addiction, and because their soul is polluted, they have a tendency toward madness,” he explained.

“Sounds like a terrible combination.”

“Indeed. Hence, it is forbidden by Dark Laws for humans to be turned. Moreover, the Dark One who does the turning also deteriorates, because their soul is no longer whole.”

Thankfully, Gabriel and Inanna, Ben’s adopted parents, were also Blooded Mates. This Bond restored the Balance and kept them whole.

“My family battled a being called Medusa for many years before I came of age,” he revealed.

“She was once a powerful Dark Princess. She created vampires in just this way, and her greatest ‘masterpiece’ was my sire, Ere.”

“Surely, making Immortals this way isn’t sustainable,” Lizzy hypothesized. “Surely, there are only so many slivers of one’s soul that can be spliced away?”

“Right,” Ben acknowledged. “Which was why Medusa turned mad, you could say, toward the end of her long life. She’d always possessed a tendency for depravity and sadism—she’s the one who held my grandfather Tal prisoner for thousands of years and tortured him almost daily.”

“Heavens,” Lizzy gasped, horrified.

“The splicing of her soul only made it worse,” Ben finished grimly.

“But besides that…unnatural process, modern science aided the creation of Immortals as well,” he went on.

“They used to be known as sorcerers or witches—people who dabbled in the dark arts. Now, they’re just chemists and geneticists. It’s easy to isolate particular strands of DNA these days, to combine them with others and see what happens on a petri dish or in a test tube. The hard part is getting a mixture that doesn’t destroy itself, that somehow binds to one another with perfect complementarity.”

“This is why Ere is Medusa’s masterpiece,” he said, coming back to where he began. “He has all of the ingredients that make up the most powerful being in the known universe—a dragon.”

“But…” Lizzy gnawed a little on her lower lip, clearly turning his words over in her clever mind.

“You and your friends have all of the ingredients too,” she pointed out.

“We are born dragons, not created,” Ben said. “Ere used to be a dragon Beast in his first incarnation, but he was created through countless experiments in his current form.”

Lizzy shuddered involuntarily.

“How awful.”

Ben concurred with that massive understatement with a heavy dip of his head.

“It is no less than a miracle that Ere is sane and a force for good given everything he’s endured,” he growled low.

“Sorin, his Mate, is his touchstone. Without this Balance, this safe haven, Ere would be lost. I am sure of it.”

“So…dragons are the most powerful beings in the universe?” she ventured, meeting his gaze, her own glittering with curiosity and something more.

Something like recognition.

Like memory.

“Yes.”

“Are there no more gods?” she whispered, as if wary of voicing blasphemy out loud.

Ben stared down into her wide gray eyes, now reflecting the fast-moving clouds in the violet sky like perfect mirrors, making them look like the swirling iridescent pools they used to be in her previous incarnation as Seven.

He wondered how much to reveal, whether she was ready to hear it. As always, he would not withhold the truth from her if she directly asked for it. And, he was certain of Lizzy’s strength.

“The last of the gods sacrificed herself to save us all,” he finally said.

Her eyes flickered a little as she continued to stare up at him, searching the depths of his gaze, looking for more answers.

“We—the Immortals—and even some rare humans with hints of supernatural abilities—are the last of the gods’ magic. They are never really gone. Magic is everywhere around us, if we but open our minds and hearts to feel it.”

She was quiet for a long time, simply gazing up at him. A soft breeze lifted tendrils of her hair from her face and off her shoulders. She looked so fragile.

So human.

The complete antithesis of the all-powerful being that was first born into the Universe.

“What does all this have to do with me?” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Why did that Kinaga woman want me to touch the egg? Why did those Immortals come after me?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Ben opened his mouth to tell her.

Lizzy braced herself for the answer.

It seemed as if she’d been waiting to hear it all of her life. And perhaps even longer than that.

As if her life had begun well before she’d been born into the world.

As if her consciousness had existed far longer than she knew.

She felt old somehow, despite having only turned thirty yesterday. And yet, she felt ageless too.

“Found you.”

They both turned toward the quiet growl. Two very tall, heavily muscled males stood side by side a few feet away.

Ben made it clear they were friend, not foe, when he stepped forth to lock arms with them in a style of greeting that reminded Lizzy of warriors of old.

“Lizzy, come meet Zai and Sin,” Ben beckoned, extending his hand to her.

A little self-consciously, she closed the distance between them and took his hand.

As if she had every right to do so.

As if he belonged to her, and she belonged to him.

He clasped her fingers immediately, his palm warm, dry and calloused. He gave her a small, intimate smile, as if they did indeed belong to each other.

“Hello,” she said shyly, staring up at the two warriors, both of a height with Ben.

The male with tousled black waves and a fulsome beard simply gave a slight dip of his head, his scarred face unsmiling, slate gray eyes piercing.

Any normal person would have been intimidated, but Lizzy liked him right away. She could sense the innate protectiveness he possessed. His spine-straight bearing also reminded her of her father, who retained his military discipline even as a civilian.

“Hullo,” the other leonine male returned, cocking his head as he examined her with bright yellow eyes.

He was the exact opposite of the dark-haired man. Golden all over, with a feline grace, ready smile, and casual looseness.

“You’re a feline Beast, aren’t you?” she blurted.

He rewarded her guess with a beatific grin and stretched his arms over his head, making his biceps bulge, rolling his shoulders like the great boulders that they were.

Impressive.

“Clever girl,” he purred.

Then, he said to Ben:

“Can we keep her?”

“ Mine ,” Ben uttered in that beyond deep dragon voice of his.

Making Lizzy shiver deliciously.

The one called Sin winked and smirked.

“Noted, King.”

He was certainly trying Ben’s patience with the blatant teasing, Lizzy could tell, including calling him by an honorific he must know Ben didn’t prefer.

But she, for one, found Sin thoroughly engaging. Downright adorable.

She grinned back at him with equal mischief.

“Did you just arrive on the island, or have you had time for reconnaissance?” Ben cut in, getting down to business.

“There’s an underwater cavern beneath this cliff,” Zai reported.

“It has two entrances. One beneath the sea, and one through the shrine.”

“Are the locals aware of it?” Ben asked.

“We don’t believe so,” Sin replied. “Whoever dug the underground chambers took pains to hide it. But…”

He shared a glance with Sin. The two males seemed completely in tune with one another. It was clear to Lizzy that they were “Mates.” She wondered if the term, as Ben used it, connoted something more than the surface definition of partners.

“We both felt the treasure calling to us,” it was Sin who completed Zai’s thought.

“It’s like a vibration or a tingle when we get closer to it. Right now, it’s directly beneath us, buried under tons of stone and rock. I can feel it. It belongs to us.”

He said this with the same conviction that she’d heard Rui and Wolfe use. Without a doubt, she believed in their claim.

“We found a tunnel that leads deep within the volcanic rock,” Zai said.

“But we came to a dead end. There was nothing there at the bottom, just a pond-sized opening that led back into the sea.”

“Yet, you feel the closeness of the treasure?” Ben asked.

Both men nodded.

“Perhaps it is hidden amongst the koga . Perhaps you passed it but didn’t know.”

“It’s worth a try to retrace our steps,” Sin said. “We can lead the way.”

“I want to come too,” Lizzy spoke up.

“I’m a good swimmer if it comes to that. I can hold my breath for three to four minutes. A lot of archeological finds require diving deep beneath the seas.”

“I wasn’t planning to leave you behind,” Ben assured her.

“And if you run out of breath, have no fear. You can have mine.”

He said it so simply—giving her his breath.

She wondered at the mechanics of it. Did this mean that he had the ability to breathe under water? Like a fabled merman?

“Exactly like that,” he murmured close to her ear, squeezing her hand.

She raised startled eyes to his.

Could he hear her thoughts?

“Yes, Lizzy,” he said. “I hear them. And soon, if you open your heart, mind and soul, you will hear mine as well.”

Truly?

It sounded impossible if Lizzy simply used logic. But she was realizing, with every moment spent in Ben’s presence, that what was “possible” was all a matter of perspective.

For heaven’s sake, she’d been dreaming of dragons since she was a child! She of all people, despite science and logic or even because of it, should know that anything was possible.

Do you believe only what you see, or do you suspend disbelief for everything you can’t see?

Lizzy had always gravitated toward the latter approach. She wanted to have faith .

“But it’s late,” Ben said.

“We shouldn’t rush into anything unprepared. Besides, I think we could all use some food and rest—”

At that, Lizzy’s stomach gurgled loudly, right on cue.

Ben grinned at her, an indulgent look in his eyes.

Like a Mate .

As if he was looking forward to feeding her from his own hands. Maybe even his lips.

“So, let’s find some supper or hunt our own, and settle down for the night.”

Turned out, they didn’t need to “hunt” their own food, though Lizzy was kind of looking forward to seeing what that would entail. She wondered what kind of Immortal Zai was, and she wanted to see Sin in his Beast form.

Moreover, she never got the chance to appreciate Ben’s dragon form and half-forms in detail. The time had gone by in the blink of an eye and it was inky dark last night. She wanted to see him in full daylight one of these days.

She wanted to admire him in all sorts of light.

They checked into a traditional-Japanese-style inn, with shojis , engawa verandas, and gleaming hardwood floors. The beds were a relatively thin cushioned layer spread directly onto the floor with a small pillow and blanket. Every piece of furniture, which was sparse and simple, was low to the ground.

Despite the poor sound insulation provided by the thin walls and shoji , it was calmly quiet at the inn, both the open-sky inner courtyard and inside. Everyone moved silently and spoke in hushed tones.

The three visiting males were giants amongst the locals. But they moved silently as well. Must be the Beast in them, she thought. The innate animal grace that they carried.

It also helped that they were all given socks to put on, for shoes were not allowed indoors.

They ate a light, delicious dinner together in the common room. Fresh seafood sashimi, rice, soup, and various pickled vegetables. Sin still looked hungry after his fourth bowl and plate, and surreptitiously disappeared shortly before they all turned in for the night.

They took turns at the shared toilet and traditional bath. Lizzy was relieved to find all of the convenient, simple, yet thoughtful amenities provided by the inn.

“He went hunting,” Ben said when Lizzy and he went to their own room and she looked at him questioningly.

She was secretly dancing a jig inside when she realized they were sharing sleeping quarters again. She had some “exploring” to catch up on. Of an intimate nature.

“Oh,” she said. “What kind of feline Beast is he exactly?”

“He’s a rare liger. A mix between a tiger and lion. Larger, more muscular, fiercer than both.”

He must have seen the curiosity and delight on her face, because he smiled and added, “You’ll get to see him in all his animal glory one of these days. I promise.”

Lizzy took note that Ben was making quite a few promises. She hoped he kept them.

Two sets of pajamas and robes were laid out on top of the two flat beds aligned next to each other on the tatami matted floor. Lizzy felt both excited and self-conscious as she looked down at them. She was pretty certain Ben’s set wouldn’t fit him at all. The pant legs probably wouldn’t even fit around his biceps.

They both pulled on the clothes they came with after their showers. She’d toweled her hair dry to the best of her ability, but his still dripped water at the curled ends.

Did that mean he had to wear his travel clothes? They didn’t bring any luggage, tearing out of Bangkok as they did.

Or…

Would he sleep naked again?

“Lizzy…”

She peered up at him through her lashes.

“I can hear your thoughts.”

Oh.

Immediately, a flush raced across her skin like wildfire. She was embarrassed to be caught “red-handed” like that, but that didn’t mean she could simply pull her thoughts out of the metaphorical gutter at will. Or even that she wanted to.

She cleared her throat and started changing into her pajamas so that she had something to do.

“Well, you do whatever makes you comfortable, Ben,” she managed to say in a normal voice.

“Don’t mind me.”

Discretely, she changed out of her underwear into a fresh one she managed to stuff into her well-worn crossbody bag beneath the cover of her dress before pulling on the pajama bottoms. She also changed out of her bra the way women around the world learned to do since an early age, without flashing any boobs, just magically pulled the discarded bra out of a sleeve when she was done.

Ben watched her intently all the while, not moving a muscle of his own, as if he was rivetted by these everyday motions she was going through.

Dressed in the comfortable cotton PJs, she knelt on her bedroll and looked expectantly up at him, even arching one brow to goad him into stripping.

She hoped.

His eyes glinted down at her, his expression indecipherable.

Without a word, he did indeed begin to strip. Slowly and gracefully, as if he was putting on a show just for her.

The Henley was pulled in one smooth motion off his torso when he reached back and tugged it over his head.

Why did men look so sexy when they did that? Women never pulled their shirts off this way.

Well, it wasn’t as if Lizzy had a lot of experience seeing men pull off their clothes in front of her. So, maybe it was just Ben who was sexy.

The broad slabs of his hair-dusted pecs tensed, one after the other, followed by each section of his corrugated abs. As if he could control every one of his muscles individually. Make them flex and harden at will.

Yeah, it was definitely Ben.

She began to salivate. She wanted to part her lips and pant shamelessly.

Then, he opened the button of his jeans, and flashed her the smooth skin of his taut lower abdomen, the tracks of clearly visible veins, and the treasure trail that led to the shadowed promised land.

No underwear.

Hallelujah!

She licked her lips, waiting.

“More?” he asked in a guttural rumble.

He wasn’t asking permission, she realized. He was asking because she might not be ready for it. Ben in all his naked glory might be too much for her to handle.

But if Lizzy was going to perish of a heart attack, she wanted the last thing she saw to be Ben’s untamed magnificence.

“More,” she said firmly, holding his eyes.

Boldly, she even crooked her fingers.

Bring it , the gesture said. Give it all to me .

So, he slid down the zipper—carefully—because his substantial erection was already tenting the fabric of his loose-fit jeans to seam-bursting tautness.

Out popped the monolith of his manhood and down went the fabric of his jeans, until he was completely bare in all his primal male glory before her.

Looking up at him from her position on the floor gave her a whole new perspective about the rugged terrain of his body. So many mounds of muscle. So many curves and valleys. Gutters , she might have read somewhere, that bisected his abs and delineated the lines where his torso met his legs.

He was perfect. Everywhere . So breath-stealingly beautiful.

Her hands reached out of their own accord. But before she touched him, she remembered her manners.

“May I?” she rasped.

“You never have to ask, Sweetheart,” he rumbled above her.

Oh, how it thrilled her to be given carte blanche over such a priceless treasure. And how it made her heart sing every time he used that old-fashioned endearment.

Slowly, she laid one hand on his thigh and sucked in a short breath when the steely muscle bunched and shifted beneath her touch.

There was so much power within him, somehow contained and controlled. Steel beneath satin, dusted with fine, golden hair.

She laid the other hand on his hip and lightly roved her fingers and palms upwards as she rose from sitting on her heels to kneeling upright on her shins. At this height, she was exactly level with his proud, jutting cock, pointing at a forty-five-degree angle outward from his groin.

It was hefty and substantial, wrapped with veins and a fine layer of skin that somehow looked both powerful and vulnerable, with two heavy weights at the root like anchors within their sac. The shaft was thick and long, flaring to a plump, ruddy head. A head gleaming with a clear, sugary looking fluid, steadily oozing out of a small, swollen slit.

Lizzy was probably cross-eyed staring at her first erection up close and personal. She never imagined that it could be so beautiful.

And tantalizing.

And mesmerizing.

Dickmatized .

She’d heard that word before, but it never made any sense. Photographs of penises and what little she’d seen with the men she occasionally dated didn’t exactly make her stop and stare. They looked awkward, honestly. And kind of unevolved.

Well, now it made perfect sense, as she stared, hypnotized, at the most private, intimate part of Ben. As her senses filled with the sight of him, the heady musk that made her impatient for a taste. As her thighs quivered and her channel flooded with slick, her body knowing what his promised well before her brain could process all of the implications.

All of the pleasure .

Like a ding-ding-ding went off in her head.

She was totally dickmatized.

She straightened a little more and smoothed her hands behind him to squeeze the tight rounds of his buttocks. There was barely any give at all, as if she was holding stone boulders. But his skin was tantalizingly smooth and soft, and he flexed his ass cheeks as an indication of power.

Oh yeah, Ben was all power and control where it counted the most for a woman’s pleasure. She was absolutely certain of it.

She waggled her eyebrows at him lasciviously. Playfully. Without warning, she suddenly yanked him closer, and she licked her lips with exaggerated relish as if she was about to chow down on the feast of a lifetime.

He huffed a silent laugh as he looked down at her, his dimple grooves appearing to bracket his generous mouth.

One of his hands landed lightly on her shoulder, the other cupped around the back of her head.

Simply holding her. Reassuring. Giving permission. Encouraging her to take what she wanted from him.

She wanted everything .

Holding his gaze, wanting to see his every minute reaction, because this was the first time she was doing something like this and she wanted to make it good for him—she lapped up the clear fluid coating his cockhead with a long, slow swipe of her tongue.

His reaction seemed disproportionate to that tiny movement. For his entire body quaked and shuddered, as if a seismic shift had rippled through the mountains of muscles and flesh. Then, he tensed and hardened even more on a sharp intake of breath. Holding it. As if she’d burned him with a hot poker. As if she’d caused him unexpected pain.

But his eyes were huge and dark, all pupil, as he stared down at her. Desire burned like hot lava within them. His hands involuntarily tightened on her shoulder and gripped her hair, as if just that one tiny lick had been torture and he wanted to push her away.

Or pull her closer.

She savored the taste of him in her mouth, rolling her tongue so that his honey could reach all the crevices, making her tastebuds come alive.

Making her salivate for more .

“You’re delicious, Benjamin,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound like her.

It was wanton and husky and mostly moan, reverberating from someplace deep within.

Demanding and possessive.

He pushed his cockhead against her slightly open lips in reply, jaw clenched, eyes slitted. As if he was beyond words at the moment.

Beyond thought.

All male animal.

She opened wider obligingly, continuing to hold his searing gaze. His engorged head filled her entire mouth; there wasn’t room for more.

But she wanted more, as much as she could take. So, she stacked her fists around his thick shaft and sucked hard with her mouth, swallowing as she did to milk more of that tangy sweetness out of him.

One taste was not nearly enough.

Somehow, they were completely in tune with one another. He rocked his hips in small increments, barely any movement at all, just enough to push deeper inside of her with each stroke, only as much as she could take.

When he reached the back of her throat, she opened for him naturally, didn’t even gag. She inhaled deeply through her nose, imprinting herself on his scent.

All the while their gazes stayed fused. It was more than taking pleasure. More than physical intimacy.

He was giving her something he’d never given to anyone else, she knew. He was naked and vulnerable in more than body.

A fierce possessiveness and triumph blazed through her.

Mine , some primal, subconscious part of her growled.

Mine, mine, mine!

“Yours,” he husked, his soul in his eyes. So blindingly beautiful and bright.

“Only yours.”

She swallowed hard around him, squeezed his shaft in time with the clutch of her throat, and he came undone on a long, low groan, baring his teeth at the force of his release.

As if it was too much. As if it hurt to let go. As if she’d somehow stripped him raw.

Hot cream spurted into her mouth and gushed down her throat in seemingly unending torrents. She kept her throat open and her lips tight around him, swallowing in time with the pulse of his body, taking everything he gave, not letting one single drop escape.

And when the deepest cataclysms finally subsided to intermittent shudders, when the flow of his seed slowed to a trickle, she gentled her swallows and sucks around him, though she refused to release him from her mouth.

Never looking away from his eyes, she cleaned his cockhead meticulously with her tongue, keeping him warm and wet, playing with the tiny opening by thrusting the tip of her tongue inside, looking for more of his salty seed.

He didn’t pull away and didn’t protest, but she knew from the jerky shivers of his body that he was too sensitive now, even though he was still rock hard. Selfishly, she tortured him some more, sucking on his flared head and making him gasp, rolling and squeezing his scrotum in her palm, spurring him to produce more seed, give her more of that thick, musky cream.

More of him .

More, more, more!

Finally, his hand at the back of her head tightened on her hair, pulling a little. Not making her stop if she chose to continue, but letting her know the boundaries of his endurance.

Yet, somehow, she knew she’d pushed him beyond those boundaries before. And that he’d always let her.

She didn’t want to, just now. Especially as she saw his eyes flicker with a strange kind of sadness and pain, beneath the haze of pleasure.

Immediately, she wanted to erase that look. It didn’t belong on Ben. He should only ever be joyful. He only deserved the best.

Slowly, she peppered kisses into his groin, nuzzling her face and mouth against the thicket there and the satiny skin. She kissed along the internal iliac veins on his lower stomach with particular focus and dedication, as if she somehow knew they were important, as if to soothe some hurt he’d endured in the past.

His broken groan told her that her instincts were true. He had suffered.

Who? Who made him suffer?

And suddenly, tears stung her eyes, tears that she didn’t understand. She tried to hide them by finally breaking their gaze, focusing instead on worshipfully kissing her way up his body, all the way to his chest and throat, as she rose on tiptoes and wound her arms around his neck.

He bent down to her and gathered her up in his arms, holding her clothed body against his naked one, anchoring her thighs around his hips as she hooked her legs over the rise of his buttocks.

“Was that good?” she murmured shyly against his mouth, still peppering him with tiny, butterfly kisses.

“Yeah, baby,” he rumbled deeply. “It was good.”

She dared to look into his eyes again, raising her lashes slowly, strangely afraid.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

His own thick lashes kept his eyes in shadow, so she couldn’t decipher everything he was feeling. There was so much emotion there. Complex and multi-layered.

“I hope so,” he finally answered.

She thought with a frown that it seemed like a strange answer. Made her heart pinch to hear it.

But that was when he took her mouth in a luscious, carnal kiss.

And all thought evaporated like smoke.