Page 28 of Tempest Blazing (The Dragonne Library #3)

Mason

I stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind me as I wrapped the towel around Tess's shoulders. Her skin was flushed pink from the heat, droplets of water still clinging to her collarbone, and something in my chest tightened at how small she looked in my arms.

"Come on," I murmured, lifting her easily. Her head found the hollow of my shoulder as I carried her to the bed, her breath warm against my neck. "You need rest."

I meant to lay her down gently, to pull the covers over her and hold her until sleep took the tension from her body. That was the plan. Keep it simple. Keep it safe.

But when I set her on the edge of the bed, she didn't let go.

Her hands found my face, thumbs tracing the scar along my jaw, and when she kissed me, it wasn't the desperate, hungry thing from before. This was slow. Exploratory. Her lips moved against mine with a simmering need that made my knees weak.

"Tess," I started, but she was already pulling me down onto the bed, the towel slipping from her shoulders.

"I want to do this," she whispered, her voice rough with want. She straddled my hips, and I could feel the heat of her through the towel around my waist. "I need to act , Mason. I need to choose ."

The way she said it—like taking control was a lifeline—undid every rational thought in my head.

Her lips trailed down my stomach, and when she took me in her mouth, all the air left my lungs in one sharp exhale. Her tongue slid along my length—hot, wet perfection—and I arched up off the bed, my hands fisting in the damp sheets.

Every nerve ending screamed. Her hair, still damp from the shower, spilled over my thighs as she worked, the scent of cinnamon and her arousal thick in the air.

I looked down, watching her mouth work me, the sight alone threatening to shatter what little control I had left. Her golden eyes met mine, and the pure intent in them—the agency burning there—made my pulse pound harder.

I let my head fall back against the pillow, surrendering to the slow, deliberate pull of her lips. My skin tightened, my scars pulling taut over muscle that quivered with restraint.

I could feel my gargoyle strength stirring just beneath the surface, a deep throb in my bones, held in check only by the sheer focus of my will. Every lick, every soft suction, was a brand. Tess. Mine. Safe.

The mating bond hummed between us like a live wire, amplifying every spark of pleasure she drew from me. My hips pushed up, seeking more of that slick heat, and she hummed low in her throat, the vibration shooting straight to my core. I groaned her name, the sound rough with need.

Then it hit me—not pain, but pressure. A familiar, dangerous magic pricked at my senses. The air crackled, thick with the ozone tang of an approaching storm. Ciaran.

My body went rigid, every protective instinct roaring to life. Gargoyle magic flared beneath my skin, a protective surge that tightened my muscles like stone.

He materialized soundlessly from the shadows pooling at the foot of the bed.

Pale gray skin, those startlingly bright silver eyes fixed on us.

A charcoal gray button-down shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the fabric immaculate despite his sudden appearance, while black slacks completed the deceptively civilized facade.

He held himself utterly still, coiled power radiating from him like a physical weight.

My arm instinctively tightened around Tess, pulling her closer. A growl rumbled low in my chest, primal and warning.

Tess felt it too. She lifted her head from my cock, her lips swollen, glistening. Her gaze found Ciaran.

For a long, tense second, silence hung heavy. Then, she reached out, her hand trembling only slightly as she beckoned to him. Not away. Closer. An invitation.

The conflict twisted in me—instinct screaming to protect. But the bond hummed with Tess's certainty, her calm. And Ciaran waited, shadows clinging to his edges, watching for her command.

Tess turned her head to look at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her thumb traced the scar on my jaw again, a soothing touch that unknotted some of the tension locked in my shoulders.

Her eyes were raw, honest, blazing with an emotion that cut through the haze of possessiveness clouding my mind. Not fear. Desire.

"I want this, Mason," she whispered, her voice thick but steady. Her gaze flicked between me and Ciaran. "Both of you. Not because I'm lost or confused… but because I choose it. Because it feels…"

"Right," Ciaran finished softly, the word like dark silk. He took a single step closer. The shadows around him shifted, tendrils snaking out, not threatening, but… curious. Hesitant even.

It was the quiet awe in Tess's eyes as she watched him, the way her breath hitched—not in fear, but in anticipation—that finally shattered my resistance.

The mating bond suddenly flared between us, warm gold threading through my chest, and for one moment, I felt her reaction to Ciaran's presence echo through it.

Not intrusion—invitation. The bond stretching, expanding, welcoming .

My hand slid up her bare spine, feeling the tremors beneath her skin. "Okay," I rasped, the word rough with surrender.

Ciaran moved then, a silent glide. He knelt on the bed behind her, the mattress dipping under his weight. He didn't touch her immediately.

His silver eyes met mine over her shoulder, intense, enigmatic. A silent question. Trust me with her?

I drew in a slow breath, tasting storm and cinnamon and something indefinably right . The bond hummed approval, and I nodded once.

Ciaran's presence settled behind her like a warm shadow. His hand rose, fingers skimming the curve of her shoulder—a touch so light it seemed more like a shadow than flesh. Then, deliberately, he guided her back towards me.

Her lips found my cock again, taking me deep, the heat and wetness blazing through me anew. I gasped, my hips bucking instinctively.

As her mouth worked me, Ciaran's other hand came up to cup her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple, already hard and peaked. A low moan vibrated around my shaft, echoing through my core.

Then came his shadows. Not just around him anymore. Dark, cool wisps detached themselves, sinuous as smoke, gliding over Tess's skin.

One coiled around her other breast, phantom fingers that made her arch into it. Another shadow slid lower, tracing the plane of her stomach, dipping teasingly towards the V of her thighs but not quite touching where she pulsed for it.

Tess whimpered, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure up my spine. Her hand fumbled blindly, finding my thigh, nails digging in slightly as the sensations overwhelmed her.

I watched, mesmerized, as Ciaran bent his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath her ear. The sharp intake of her breath was audible even over the wet sounds of her mouth on me.

He murmured something against her skin, words too quiet for me to catch. The shadows reacted. The one at her breast tightened gently, swirling around her nipple like cool silk, drawing another gasp.

The other shadow drifted lower, finally brushing against her clit with a feather-light, electric touch. Tess cried out, muffled by my cock, her whole body jerking. Her fingers spasmed on my leg.

My own control frayed, the pleasure coiling unbearably tight at the base of my spine. I could feel her arousal spiking through the bond, a sweet, desperate ache mingling with my own.

I tangled my hands in her hair, not pushing, just holding on, anchoring myself in the feel of her while Ciaran orchestrated her pleasure with whispers and shadows.

She lifted her head again, breathing hard, lips slick and swollen. Her eyes were huge, dark with need, pupils blown wide.

Ciaran's shadow flicked lazily against her clit again, and she shuddered violently. "Mason," she gasped, her voice wrecked. "Need… need you inside. Now."

She didn't wait. Still trembling from the phantom caresses on her skin, she pushed herself up, one hand braced on my chest. Her other hand guided me, the head of my cock rubbing against her slick heat.

My breath caught, every muscle coiled, ready. Her gaze locked with mine as she sank down, inch by slow, searing inch.

I felt every fold, every pulse of her inner walls as her body stretched, accepted, claimed me. She seated herself fully with a shuddering moan, her inner muscles clamping down hard. Home. The word slammed through me, more feeling than thought, amplified by the bond.

"God, Tess," I ground out, my voice thick. My hands instantly found her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as she began to rock. Slow at first, testing the angle. The drag was exquisite torture—wet, tight, perfectly encompassing.

Ciaran remained behind her, kneeling. His hands settled firmly on her waist, adding his strength to guide her rhythm.

Shadows swirled around them both, tendrils stroking her arms, her back, her belly. One particularly bold tendril wrapped around her throat, not tight, just holding, a possessive claim that made her gasp and arch back against Ciaran's chest.

He lowered his head, catching her gasp with his mouth. I watched them kiss over her shoulder, Ciaran's lips slanting over hers with a dark intensity that made my pulse stutter. Yet his hands on her hips were steady, helping her rise and fall, matching her pace to mine.

One of his shadows drifted down, impossibly precise, and settled again on her clit. Not flicking this time, but pressing, circling with relentless, rhythmic pressure.

Tess cried out against Ciaran's lips, her rhythm faltering. Her inner walls clenched around me like a fist. I groaned, shifting my hips, driving deeper into that devastating tightness.

I couldn't look away from Ciaran's hand as it slid up from Tess's waist to cup her breast, his thumb circling her nipple in time with the shadow working her clit below.

Too much. Her body was caught between us, between sensations—my cock filling her, Ciaran's touch and kiss claiming her mouth, the shadow relentlessly stroking her clit.

She threw her head back, breaking the kiss with a ragged sob, her eyes finding mine. Wild. Desperate. Beautifully undone.

"Look at her, Mason," Ciaran murmured, his voice rough with something I'd never heard before. Something like reverence. "Look at her come apart." His shadow flicked faster.

Tess's cries pitched higher, fractured. Her hips ground down onto me, frantic. The rhythmic pressure on her clit sent visible tremors through her frame. She was close. So close.

I could feel it in the bond, a rising wave of ecstasy about to break. I could see it in the flush spreading down her chest, the frantic way her hands clutched at my thighs.

My own release coiled low and hard, fueled by the sight of her, the feel of her clenching, the sheer overwhelming rightness of this shared intensity.

My thumbs dug into the curve of her hips, helping her move, meeting every downward thrust with an upward surge of my own. The bed frame creaked under us.

The shadow circling her clit pressed harder, faster. Tess's back arched impossibly. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Pure bliss. Shock. Utter surrender.

Her inner walls clamped down on me with vise-like intensity, a rhythmic pulsing that milked me ruthlessly. It tore my own climax from me in a white-hot rush.

Heat and light exploded behind my eyes as I surged up into her one final time, spilling deep with a groan ripped from my chest. Her name was a broken sound on my lips.

The bond flared gold and violet between us, a visible shimmer of magic in the air, warm and electric.

She collapsed forward onto my chest, boneless, trembling. Her breath came in hot, wet pants against my neck. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight as the aftershocks still rippled through her, through me.

The world narrowed to her weight, her heat, the frantic hammering of her heart against mine.

The shadows retreated, melting back into the corners of the room as silently as they'd come. The electric pressure of Ciaran's magic dissipated, leaving the air warm and heavy with sex and sweat and cinnamon.

I sensed his movement behind her rather than saw it. He smoothed a hand down Tess's bare back, a surprisingly gentle touch over the damp skin and tangled hair. His palm lingered for a moment between her shoulder blades, a silent acknowledgment.

Then his silver eyes met mine over the top of her head. They held a look I couldn't fully decipher—respect? Understanding? The remnants of that fierce possessiveness?

"Thank you," he murmured, the words low, rough-edged, but sincere, "for taking care of her." His gaze softened as it flickered down to Tess, limp and utterly spent against me. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss so light it was barely felt to the crown of her head. Then, without another sound, he slid off the bed and stepped backwards into a pool of deep shadow gathering at the edge of the bed, disappearing.