Page 70 of Visions of You

"I don't see any other outcome for us."

"Maybe you would see one if we bonded, if you became more powerful!"

Keegan looked at him with a face that said he didn't think so.

"You won't even try?" Jaron demanded.

"What if I try," Keegan said, "and it doesn't work? Then we're mated, and our souls become intertwined, and I'll be the most precious treasure you've ever added to your hoard, and still something is going to happen that'll lead to you killing me and it will destroy you."

Again, Jaron was stunned into silence. Not because Keegan still insisted that this awful future was going to happen, butbecause of the horror in Keegan's voice when he spoke of how this would affect Jaron.

Keegan wasn't scared for himself.

He was scared for Jaron.

And how the hell was Jaron supposed to respond to that? "Nothing's going to destroy me," he said in a low tone of voice, "because I'm not going to hurt you."

"You don't know?—"

Jaron surged forward and shut him up with a kiss, earning himself a surprised yelp from Keegan. Gods, he loved surprising his seer, and he'd surprise him in this matter too. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated.

Keegan opened his mouth as if to protest.

Jaron pressed a finger to his lips. "That future can't exist. I won't allow it."

"But fate?—"

"Fuck fate," Jaron decided. "We'll shape our future ourselves, you and me."

Keegan looked as if he desperately wanted to believe that, or maybe he was just desperate for someone to take him out of his head. Jaron could grant him that second wish, at least.

His lips crashed against Keegan's, his tongue demanding entrance that was readily granted. Keegan moaned into the kiss, and Jaron couldn't help but wonder how difficult things must have been for him.

For almost as long as he'd been a vampire, he'd been tormented by visions of his own death at Jaron's hands, and yet here he was, allowing Jaron to touch him, to kiss him—maybe even to do other things.

The dragon in him wanted that so badly, the urge to claim overriding any rational thought within his mind.

Jaron's hands moved down Keegan's slender body, caressing every inch of smooth skin he could reach. Heat pooled betweenhis legs as he imagined what it would be like to have his vampire beneath him, pliant and moaning his name. The thought alone was enough to make his cock harden further in his pants.

A low sound escaped Keegan as Jaron's hand brushed against the growing bulge in his pants, and any remaining restraint Jaron had snapped. He needed more; he needed his mate.

Keegan's breath came in short, ragged gasps as Jaron's mouth moved lower, his hands deftly stripping away the barrier of clothing that separated them. The sight of Keegan, spread out before him, was enough to make Jaron's head spin.

He took a moment to simply look at his mate, to appreciate the beauty of the trust Keegan had placed in him, to acknowledge the gravity of the gift he was being given.

The dragon within Jaron stirred, an insistent and possessive force that demanded he claim, to own. But beneath that primal urge was a profound tenderness, a need to cherish and protect this fierce, haunted creature whose soul called out to his.

Jaron leaned down, pressing gentle kisses along the column of Keegan's throat, feeling the vampire's breath catch. His hands explored the contours of Keegan's body, mapping out every dip and curve, longing to commit them to memory.

"Jaron," Keegan whispered, his voice a hoarse plea for more, and the sound of his name on Keegan's lips was enough to ignite a fire within Jaron's veins.

Funny how he'd never been able to breathe flames but Keegan made him feel like he was burning on the inside.

With a growl that was half man, half dragon, Jaron gave in to the desire that coursed through him, settling in between Keegan's legs. His dragon roared in approval, clawing at his insides with an intensity that threatened to overwhelm him. But he held back, refusing to let the beast dictate his actions. Thiswas about Keegan, about showing him that he was cherished and safe in Jaron's care.

That Jaron would never do anything to hurt him.

He got the bottle of lube out of the bedside table drawer and coated his fingers. Keegan watched him, wordlessly. He had to know what Jaron meant to do, and yet, he wasn't protesting.