Page 20 of Ronen (Sweet Alps Legacy #1)

Chapter Fourteen

Mason

Sensations overwhelmed me.

Heat.

Fire.

Lust.

It all raced through my body, as my lips trailed Ronen’s, our tongues tangling, the sweet taste of him muddling my brain.

His hand was tangled in the hair at my nape, gripping tightly, and he let out a small moan that zinged straight to my cock. When he sucked lightly on my tongue, tugging my hair, I groaned at the pleasure.

The next thing I knew, I had a lap full of omega, Ronen’s legs straddling my waist. My aching cock, already tenting my shorts, strained to be free. As he undulated sensually against me, his own hard cock rubbed against mine, spiking my desire.

My hands roamed over his back, then his front, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, while we continued to kiss .

I could kiss this man forever and never get enough.

Needing air, we broke the kiss, staring into each other’s eyes, chests heaving.

Ronen stared down at me, his green eyes wide, pupils blown. His high cheekbones were flushed, his pink lips dark and glossy, swollen from our kisses.

Reaching up, I brushed his hair back from his forehead, then cupped the back of his head gently. He arched his back, moving like a cat beneath my hand, his hands running over the front of his partially unbuttoned shirt.

“Take it off.” My voice was rough, low, and I watched his fingers slowly unbutton each remaining button. I needed to see him, needed to touch his skin against mine.

Moving the material apart, I stared at his chest, the light smattering of black hair that dissected his small pecs. His pink nipples, pebbled and hard, begging for my tongue.

Sliding his shirt off his shoulders, then down his arms, I slowly undressed him. Everything that had happened that day vanished. The throbbing in my ankle disappeared. My exhaustion vanished.

Nothing else mattered except this perfect omega in my arms.

My omega.

Ronen licked his lips, his pink tongue darting out to run over them, making them shine more. His shirt got caught up where his sleeves were rolled, and he yanked it off, tossing it behind us somewhere.

Running a finger along the waistband of his black dress pants, my mouth went dry as my eyes caressed his pale, taut skin. His stomach was flat, with just a hint of muscles, his belly button deep, and a fine trail of dark hair started just below it and disappeared into his pants.

But what really held my attention were all his tattoos. Sure I’d gotten a glimpse of his forearms earlier, but this went beyond that.

Ronen Sinclair was a walking piece of art, well hidden beneath tailored dress pants and tightly buttoned shirts.

Both arms were covered in inked sleeves, tribal designs that might have been Celtic in nature covered one arm from shoulder to wrist. What I had thought was some kind of compass on his forearm, I now saw was made up of two opposing dragons in a circle.

It was a compass of some kind, but there was some kind of ancient writing, or a foreign language on it.

Hell, it might have even been some kind of scientific formula for all I knew.

A honey badger took up the rest of that arm, from elbow to shoulder, the intricate detailed design was absolutely stunning.

Was this what my mate looked like in his shifted form? Slowly, I ran my hand over the badger's striped back.

It had been a wolf head that I had seen, sitting just below his left pec, the detail on this just as stunning.

Ronen swung his leg off me, standing between my stretched out leg and the unhurt one I had planted firmly on the floor. His fingers made quick work on the button of his slacks, before him slowly lowering the zipper had me forgetting how to breathe.

He stopped what I was hoping was going to be a slow striptease to toe off his shoes.

Inch by inch, his skin was revealed, as he pushed his pants down, snagging his underwear in the process.

His legs were surprisingly art free. Stepping out of them, he kicked them to the side, standing tall and naked in front of me, his long, slender cock hard and erect .

The air was humid between us, scented with the sweet smell of his slick, and my mouth watered thinking about how he would taste.

His cock was nestled in a patch of neatly trimmed dark curls, his hip bones sharply pointed, his flanks lean. His legs were long and slender, but well muscled and shapely, and his thighs were supple.

And halfway over one hip bone was a red and magenta scaled tail of…something I couldn’t see the rest of.

Twirling my finger in a circle, I roughly whispered, “Turn around for me.”

Ronen turned, presenting me with his slender back and well-rounded buttocks. He’d produced enough slick that the bottom curve of his ass and the tops of his thighs were shiny with it.

All of that was forgotten for an instant as I drank in the sight of his back.

Leaning forward, I stared at it, blinking as I took it all in. Stunned, yet excited.

This had to mean something. Something significant and important. Something destined. Something that was meant to be.

My fingertips nearly shook as I trailed them over his soft skin, tracing the inked lines that covered the expanse of his back.

The tattoo was stunning, covering the width of his shoulders and the line of his spine, spreading across his sides and stopping just above the crack of his ass.

The colors were a beautiful blend of lilacs and eggplant, merging into magenta and several different shades of red.

The dragon's wide head rested at the top of Ronen’s left shoulder, the wings spread in flight across the width of his back. One finger traced the tail where it wrapped around his right side, disappearing around to the front of his hip bone.

Ronen peeked at me over the shoulder where the dragon’s head rested, his deep green eyes watching me, his expression indiscernible.

Ronen Sinclair was a mystery I intended to read from cover to end. He was like the best whodunit story there was, where every page sent you down a different path and kept you guessing until the very last word.

“Why a dragon?” My voice was gravelly to my own ears, rough and raw.

He shrugged, turning back around to face me. “Just picked it. Dragons are super popular, according to Charlie.”

“Don’t do that,” I demanded, and his eyes narrowed at my tone.

Shaking my head, I growled, “Don’t act like that piece of art on your back,” I traced the tail with a trembling finger, “and front was a whim. This had to have taken an incredible amount of time.”

Not to mention patience as well as pain.

He shivered beneath my touch, but he never broke eye contact.

Finally, he gave a little shrug. “It’s just something I’ve dreamed of for years.

This dragon, he shows up in my dreams. Has since I was a kid.

I drew it and Charlie inked me. It’s an ongoing project; it’s still not finished.

Obviously.” He looked away briefly before catching my gaze.

“I can’t figure out his eyes. In my dreams, he never flies close enough for me to see their color. We’re leaving them for last.”

Tell him , my dragon screamed, agitated and anxious.

Not yet. Not until we can trust him. We don’t even know if he wants this, wants us .

Staring at the tattoo, the thought that this meant something beyond us hit me again, and I bit my lower lip, fighting the urge to scream it to the heavens. To Ronen. To make him see that this thing between us, it was meant to be.

Fate had been working her magic long before I had ever walked into that library.

Ronen moved with a grace and fluid ease I hadn’t expected, as he sank to his knees between my own, his hands running up my bare thighs, making me shiver with raw need.

His hands lightly caressed my stomach, before tugging at the waistband of my shorts. And when he eased my thick cock out, pushed them down my hips, I raised my butt so he could pull them off me.

He was surprisingly gentle as he eased the leg hole over my booted foot, glancing back at me with what almost looked like concern in his eyes.

“Is your foot going to be okay, if we do this?” he asked, back on his knees in front of my throbbing cock.

At that point, my ankle could have been hanging onto the rest of my leg by a thread, and my answer would have still been, “It’ll be fine.”

Spreading my legs wider, I stared down at his dark head bent between my thighs, his hair wildly messy. His breath ghosted over my throbbing cock, and another full body shiver raced through my burning body.

Grabbing my T-shirt by the hem, I yanked it over my head, dropping it over the back of the sofa. A drop of precum pooled at the tip of my cock, pearly white, glistening, waiting.

Ronen looked up, his eyes meeting mine, dark and shrouded in secrets and mysteries .

Gently, hesitantly, like I was reaching out to touch a wild, untamed animal, I ran a finger down one of his high cheekbones.

Silk. His skin felt like warm silk beneath my fingers.

Ronen drew in a sharp breath at my touch, his eyes fluttering closed, his head tilting into my hand. Then he grabbed my wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, moving me where he wanted me. Until my hand rested under his chin, against his throat. Reflexively, I cupped his jaw.

Shrewd green eyes opened, glittering in the near dark of the room. The same hand that had gripped my wrist forced my hand down to encircle his throat loosely.

“No strings attached, Mason,” he whispered, the words blowing hot across the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A need like I had never felt in my entire life tightened my muscles, and I bit back a moan. “This means nothing. Just two people scratching an itch.”

Who was this man kidding? Did he even believe the ridiculous words coming from his mouth? Was he trying to convince me or himself?

“You know we’re way past that, Ronen.” My words were rough with desire. “Tell me what you want.”

He held my hand to his throat, forcing it tighter against his tender skin. “Harder. I like it rough.”