Page 22

SEVENTEEN

DANICA

D anica felt a strange weightlessness as Asher's words washed over her.

Forever. The concept had always seemed like a distant, theoretical notion—something she helped other people plan for, but she didn't have time to consider for herself.

Yet standing here in his mansion's entryway, with his eyes burning into hers, forever suddenly felt. .. possible.

"You really want me here?" Her voice emerged smaller than intended, the red silk of her dress suddenly feeling too exposed and too vulnerable against her skin. "Even with everything that's happening?"

Asher's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck straining against his crisp collar. "Especially with everything that's happening." His fingers traced along her waist, possessive and tender all at once. "A threat against you is a threat against me."

The heat from his palm seeped through the fabric of her dress, and Danica found herself leaning into his touch. The stubborn voice inside her head that had always warned her against dependence was suspiciously quiet.

"I shouldn't have tried to leave without talking to you." She glanced at the discarded suitcase. "I just heard those council members, and it felt like confirmation of every whisper I've been hearing. That I don't belong here."

His eyes flashed with an inhuman glow. "You belong exactly where you are. With me."

The raw certainty in his voice ignited something in her chest—a bright, burning thing she couldn't name.

"Thank you," she whispered, reaching up to touch the perfectly knotted red tie at his throat. "For listening. For understanding. For not being angry that I almost bolted back to New Orleans without explanation."

Asher caught her hand against his chest, where his heartbeat thundered beneath her palm. "I could never stay angry at you." His voice rumbled lower, vibrating through her fingers. "And I'll always listen to you, Danica. That's what mates do."

The word 'mates' should have triggered her flight response—it implied permanence and commitment, all the things she'd carefully avoided. Instead, a delicious shiver traveled down her spine.

"So the council is actually on our side?" she asked, needing to be sure.

"Most of them." His thumb brushed circles against her wrist. "The rest will learn to accept you because you're my fated mate. They will soon realize that what is best for me is best for everyone."

"What now?" she asked, her fingers tracing the lapel of his navy suit.

"Now..." Asher's eyes darkened as they dropped to her lips. "Now I kiss you."

His mouth claimed hers with a hunger that stole her breath.

This wasn't the tentative kiss of new lovers feeling their way—this was possession, declaration, and promise.

His tongue swept against hers, and Danica's knees weakened.

Her body remembered everything from the night before—every touch, every whisper, and every moment of bliss—and craved more with a desperation that shocked her.

Without thinking, she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist, the silk dress riding up her thighs. Asher caught her effortlessly, his large hands gripping her thighs, supporting her weight as though she were made of air.

"I want you," she breathed against his mouth. "Right now."

His green eyes flared with desire. "Then I won't keep you waiting." He nipped at her lower lip.

Danica's pulse roared in her ears as Asher carried her effortlessly to his living room couch, his mouth never leaving hers.

The heat of his body pressed against her as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, the scent of him wrapping around her senses.

She barely registered the soft leather of the couch pressing against the backs of her thighs as he set her down on the back of it, her legs still locked around his waist.

His hands slid up her bare legs, pushing the red silk of her dress higher, exposing the lace edge of her panties. "You're overdressed," he breathed against her full lips, his voice rough with want.

She laughed breathlessly, her fingers already working at the knot of his tie. "Says the man still in a full suit."

Asher's answering grin was pure wickedness. He tugged the top of her dress down in one smooth motion, baring her breasts to the cool air of the room—and to his heated gaze. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, already pebbled tight, and she arched into his touch with a gasp.

"Better," he growled, before his mouth closed over one peak, his tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles.

Danica's head fell back, her fingers tangling in his hair. Every flick of his tongue sent sparks shooting down her spine, pooling low in her belly. His teeth grazed her skin, just shy of too much, and she whimpered.

Asher chuckled against her skin, the vibration making her toes curl. "That's it. Let me hear you."

His hand slid higher between her thighs, his fingers tracing the damp lace of her panties before slipping beneath. She gasped as his fingers found her, already slick and aching for him.

"You're already so wet for me," he muttered, his voice rough.

She could only nod, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as his fingers worked her with devastating precision. One large finger slid inside her, curling just right, and her hips jerked forward.

"Asher—" His name tore from her throat as his thumb pressed against her clit, circling in tight, relentless strokes.

"Come for me," he commanded softly.

And just like that, she shattered. Pleasure ripped through her, wave after wave, her body tightening around his fingers as she cried out.

Danica slumped against him, her limbs liquid and her breath ragged. She blinked up at him through hooded eyes, her lips curling into a lazy smile. "You're really good at that."

Asher's grin was smug. "I know."

She slid off the couch, her knees only slightly unsteady, and dropped to the floor before him. His pupils dilated as her fingers worked at his belt, her nails scraping lightly over his abdomen as she freed him from his pants and boxers.

His cock sprang free, thick and throbbing in her hand. She licked her lips, meeting his heated gaze as she leaned forward, taking him into her mouth with a slow, deliberate stroke.

Asher's groan was pure sin. His fingers tangled in her hair, not forcing, just holding, as she worked him with her tongue. She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper, relishing the way his hips jerked forward.

"Christ, Danica—" His voice was strained, his grip tightening.

She pulled back, swirling her tongue around the head before sinking down again, faster this time. His thighs trembled beneath her hands, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

"Not like this," he gritted out, hauling her up before she could protest.

Danica barely had time to blink before he spun her around, bending her over the back of the couch. The cool leather pressed against her stomach as he hiked her skirt up, his fingers hooking into her panties and dragging them down.

"You're insatiable," she teased, though her voice wavered as his hands gripped her hips.

"And you love it."

Then he was inside her, filling her in one deep, relentless thrust. Danica gasped, her fingers digging into the couch as he set a brutal pace, each stroke hitting that perfect spot inside her.

"Oh, yes," she panted, pushing back against him, meeting every thrust with equal fervor.

Asher's hands tightened on her hips, his breath hot on her neck. "That's it. Take me just like that."

The slap of skin against skin, and the way his body moved over hers—it was primal and intoxicating. She could feel the delicious tension coiling tighter inside her, her body trembling on the edge of release.

"Asher, I'm?—"

"I know." His voice was rough, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Come, Danica."

And she did. Pure pleasure exploded through her, her body clenching around him as she cried out. Asher's rhythm faltered. His own release soon slammed into him with a loud groan, his hips jerking against her as he spilled deep inside her.

They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, their bodies still connected.

Danica turned her head, catching his lips in a slow, lazy kiss. "We're going to be late," she murmured against his mouth.

Asher chuckled, pressing one last kiss to her shoulder before pulling away. "Worth it."

She straightened, putting her panties back on and adjusting her dress as he grabbed his clothes. Her skin was flushed, her body still humming with satisfaction.

A few minutes later, Danica studied her reflection in the guest bathroom mirror, dabbing at her smeared lipstick with a tissue. Her brown eyes sparkled with lingering satisfaction, and her cheeks flushed with a glow that makeup could never replicate.

"Quickie with a dragon shifter during an event," she murmured to herself, smoothing her hands down the crimson silk that hugged her curves. "Not exactly covered in the event planner handbook."

She reapplied her lipstick, then ran a brush through her tousled hair, trying to tame the telltale signs of Asher's eager fingers. Her body still tingled with aftershocks, tiny electric currents pulsing under her skin where he had touched her.

No man had ever made her feel this way—like she was burning from the inside out, consumed by a fire that only he could stoke. What terrified her wasn't the intensity, but how quickly she'd become addicted to it. To him.

She stepped back, examining the full picture. The red silk dress clung in all the right places, making her pale skin glow against the rich fabric. She'd never be able to wear it again without remembering how it felt bunched around her waist as Asher's hands gripped her hips.

"Get it together," she whispered, applying a final touch of mascara. "You have a festival to close."

When she emerged into the foyer, her breath caught. Asher stood waiting, his broad shoulders filling out a perfectly tailored tuxedo. The red vest and tie beneath matched her dress exactly, as if they'd planned it. His green eyes darkened as they swept over her.

"Come here," he commanded softly.

Her body responded before her mind could process, drawn to him like gravity. When she reached him, he traced one finger along her collarbone, his touch feather-light.

"Every man at that ceremony will envy me tonight," he said softly, pulling her against the hard planes of his chest.

His mouth then claimed hers with devastating thoroughness, and Danica wondered if she'd ever get tired of the way he kissed her—like she was oxygen and he was drowning.