Page 36 of Wild Bond (Wild Bond #1)
I woke in the morning feeling deliciously content, with a warm male body tucked behind me under the covers, and a long muscular forearm draped over me. I kept my eyes closed and breathed deeply, luxuriating in the warm sunlight on my face.
My thoughts drifted to the night before and all that we had done together. It had felt amazing. Better than I had imagined—and I had imagined a lot since meeting Rake.
A sense of rightness and bone-deep satisfaction hummed through me. I was happy, I realized. Happy in a way that I hadn’t been in a long time. If ever.
Almost without conscious thought I searched out Skye in the bond and let her know I was awake. She sent back a wave of affection, and I saw through her eyes that she was hunting with Naasir. I smiled, leaving her to it as I tried to decide whether to move or to simply fall back to sleep.
Hard lips pressed against the back of my neck, and Rake’s lazy voice murmured against my skin, “Are you awake?”
“No,” I replied, my voice rough from sleep.
He chuckled, and a thrill raced through me as his hand came up to cup my breast. His scruff tickled as his lips trailed up the side of my throat and nipped at my lobe. “Are you sore?”
The question made my heart jump in my chest. I shifted slightly, stretching, assessing. I was sore, though perhaps more tender in a few places. I didn’t care though. As I moved, I could feel him hard against my lower back, and couldn’t help rubbing back against him. Despite the tenderness, I wanted more.
His rough hand clenched on my breast as the other drifted down to caress between my legs.
“No, I’m not sore,” I only kind of lied.
“Good,” was all he said, before lifting my upper leg and placing it back on his thigh. Then he shifted lower and slid into me from behind.
My back bowed at the unexpected pleasure of the invasion. He felt much bigger this way. Rake must have known that, because he didn’t move at first, letting me adjust to him once again.
His hand returned to between my legs while his other moved up to gently grasp my throat.
“I love being inside you,” he groaned huskily as he slowly began to move. His hot breath puffed against my ear, creating tantalizing shivers all through me. “This hot, tight, little body.”
His words set me on fire, and heat pooled low in my body.
“You feel so good,” I breathed, my eyes still closed. They were the same words I had used last night, but they were the truth. He felt made for me. His massive physique and the carefully leashed strength of him surrounded me and made me feel small and feminine. The bare skin of his torso pressed firmly against my back. The utter possession in his touch. It all drove me wild.
I drank it in.
Tilting my head back, my mouth turned to his, seeking.
He met me with a claiming kiss, tasting like heat and male, that citrus and sage scent filling my awareness.
Rake didn’t speed up his pace. There was no hurry. Not like the fever of last night. His thrusts remained slow and languid. Velvet claws raked deep in my belly at the sheer decadence of it.
The climax built. Every movement, every touch, every kiss, even the feel of his palm pressing softly against my throat added to it. My toes curled and my body clenched around him. I sobbed aloud at the rush of sensation and emotion that accompanied it. I felt owned. Claimed.
Rake cursed and bit down on my shoulder. That sent me over the edge, and a few seconds later he followed.
Afterward, I lay across him, a single finger tracing the dark ink on his chest while his large hand played with my hair.
“Realms, I love your hair,” he rumbled.
I didn’t even try to stop the grin that spread across my lips. I kissed his chest and giggled. “I know.”
I began kissing down his chest, my tongue following the dark curving lines of ink on his skin until I laved his nipple, sucking it into my mouth. I released it with a pop and then grinned again. “I love your tattoos.”
“I know,” he countered as I nipped my way up to his neck.
I dropped back down and folded my hands over his chest, my chin resting on my interlocked fingers. “So, any theories about who kidnapped me and brought me here?” I asked, not sure how to gracefully segue into this conversation.
Rake’s head rose up slightly, his facial expression bemused then sobering. “A few,” he admitted, not commenting on my change of topic. He bent one massive arm and tucked it behind his head, looking relaxed but serious as he replied, “It could have been anyone—any dragon rider, anyway.”
“Prince Pierce?” I asked.
Rake shook his head. “That was my first thought as well, but I have a hard time believing any of the more prominent figures could have had anything to do with it . . . at least directly. We’re too visible, especially during the trials.”
“What I still don’t understand is how they got me here in time?”
“There are several days of pomp and circumstance, ceremonies and the like, before the trials actually start,” Rake explained. “So, there would have been time, especially if they had a rider helping them, and Skye was in her minor form at the time.”
I then told Rake about what had really happened to me in the First Trial. What Daisha had done, and how Skye had used the bond to completely heal me somehow. He was furious about Daisha and wanted to have her disqualified, but then I reminded him that she technically hadn’t broken any rules and that I didn’t want attention drawn to what had happened with Skye.
“I’ve never heard of something like that happening before,” he said. “If she can heal you like that, why hasn’t she done so before?”
I thought on it. “It must be because my life was in danger,” I realized. “We both would have died if she hadn’t. I felt in the bond that healing me like that took a lot out of her. Maybe it’s something that only can be done under extreme circumstances.”
“Hmm,” Rake murmured as we both fell quiet, thinking on all that had happened and all we still didn’t know. “How are you feeling about the Second Trial?” he finally asked. I had been wondering when he would bring that up. The trial didn’t start until this afternoon, but it hung over my head like a dark cloud.
I began absently tracing his tattoos again. “Nervous,” I confessed quietly. “I wish I knew more of what to expect. All I know is what you and Trenton told us.” I took a deep breath. “And that it takes place in an obsidian chamber like the one you showed us.” I tried not to fall back into the emotions I felt that day under the temple. I was convinced I was able to fight off the panic in The Rift only out of a sheer need to survive. I swallowed hard. “What if it happens again?” I said, almost as if I was worried someone other than Rake would hear me admit my fears aloud. “What if I can’t even enter the chamber, let alone complete the trial?”
Rake’s arms tightened around me. “You’ll have Skye to help you,” he pointed out. “You won’t be alone.”
“But—”
“No,” he cut in, staring down at me with those amazing eyes I loved. “You can do this, Rin. I have every confidence in you. You passed the First Trial with little training and hardly any warning. You can master your fear. You already did once.” His hand reached out and traced along my cheek. “You deserve to pass the trial and become a dragon rider in truth,” he murmured, voice gentling. “There was something about you from the first moment I saw you in that square . . . a fierceness and strength that I couldn’t help but admire and be drawn to, even then. And it’s a strength that you can draw from now.”
My cheeks warmed, and my heart swelled with emotion at his confidence in me—amazed at how he saw me. “Thank you,” I murmured, meaning it and not sure what else to say.
I grew quiet as his hand moved to rub a lock of my hair between his fingers. The silvery strands contrasted perfectly with his bronze skin. The deeper emotion in his eyes was something that I wasn’t sure I was ready to examine, an emotion that I had been seeing there with varying degrees of intensity for longer than I was willing to admit. It left me both heady with excitement and overcome by sudden anxiety.
His eyes met mine again, and the certainty in them nearly left me breathless. “You’re welcome.”