Wildfire (Hidden Legacy #3)(104)

His mouth closed on mine. There was nothing gentle or beguiling about that kiss. He kissed me like I belonged to him. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I tasted him, the echoes of coffee and the deep male scent that said Connor to me. It made me shiver. He kissed me like he could do anything to me and I wanted to let him. I would beg him to do it.

He broke the kiss. His eyes were dark and borderline feral. The heat between my legs turned liquid. I was suddenly in a terrible hurry.

“Look at me.” His voice was harsh.

I looked at him.

“You wanted to see me? Here I am.”

He seemed barely human, all raw male power, intense sexual need, and dark magic. It boiled all around him. The muscles on his arms were rock-hard. If he squeezed me, he could crush me. He never would, but knowing he could, watching all that power arrested in a moment, waiting to be devoted to making love to me, was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.

I tried to arch my back to press against him and couldn’t. He held me in place.

“Are you scared?” the dragon asked.

“No.”

“You should be.”

I smiled and let my own magic out.

His eyes shone.

He drew his thumb across my lips. The first intoxicating drop of his magic fell in the hollow between my breasts, hot, molten, velvet. Every nerve in me hummed in response. I was an addict who had smelled her favorite drug. I needed him inside me.

He slid his hand under my ass, squeezing it, feeling it, and dragged me closer, shifting my hips where he wanted me. The blunt head of his shaft pressed against me.

The magic split into two currents, winding around my breasts, and slid up each peak, warming my skin. My nipples were suddenly cold and erect, and then the magical heat crested over them. The jolt of pleasure rocked me, just as he tilted his head and sealed his lips on mine. I gasped into his mouth. He kissed me as the magic twisted around my nipples, sending tiny sparks of bliss through me, and then the stream moved lower. He kissed me while it flowed over my stomach, over my lap, into the crease between my legs. It licked my clit with its tongue, no longer merely hot and velvet, but slightly rough. My whole body contracted in response. It was too much. Waiting was too hard. I fought against him, bucking with everything I had and not moving an inch.

He let me take a breath. The harsh need in his eyes had turned to an all-consuming hunger.

“Why should I be scared?” I asked.

The magic squeezed and licked my clit, slipping in and out of me. It was an exquisite torture. He dipped his head and sucked on my left nipple. I almost came.

“If someone threatens you, I’ll kill them. If you’re not there to stop me, I’ll torture them first.”

“I can handle that,” I managed. That part of him would never change and I’d made my peace with it.

The magic grew hotter. He moved on to the right nipple. If he didn’t thrust into me now, I would either yell at him or start begging.

“When you look at other men, I want to kill them. If you cheat on me, I may. No more dates with other men, Nevada. I don’t care what the reason is.”

“Deal. No more kisses from other women.”

His tongue worked my nipple. His right hand slipped between my legs. His fingers dipped inside me. My head was spinning. My body grew hot and heavy. I needed a release. I wanted all of him.

He made a harsh male noise. His fingers brushed the sensitive bud of my clit. I jerked.

“You’ll live with me. You’ll sleep with me in our bed,” he growled. “Every night.”

“Let me go.”

He released my arms and I wound my left around him, worked my right low and let my fingers glide up and down the silken hardness of his shaft.

“Mmmm . . .” He kissed me again, thrusting himself into my hand.

“No other woman is going to call you Connor,” I breathed. “Only me.”

Connor grinned, a scary baring of teeth.

“You’re my Connor. I’m not sharing.”

“Deal. I love you. You are all I want out of this life. Marry me, Nevada.”

I kissed his lips, then his jaw, and whispered in his ear. “Yes.”

He thrust into me, his girth gliding in and stretching me. He filled me, deep and hard. It was more than I could take. The pressure stoked by his magic crested like a wave and drowned me. Climax gripped me in its delicious bliss, blocking out the world. I floated through it, that first moment of pure ecstasy stretching into eternity, and I spent it with my arms wrapped around Rogan, watching his eyes as the echoes of my orgasm rolled through him. Pleasure rocked me in waves. I couldn’t even talk.

Finally, the aftershocks faded. He kissed me and thrust again, deep and hard, building to a fast, savage rhythm. I matched him. It wasn’t gentle or soft. It was fierce, because that’s what we were. We gripped each other as another climax rocked me and then again, wrapped in magic, united by pleasure, and when he finally emptied himself inside me, I felt whole.



We lay in bed, wrapped in each other. By all rights, we should’ve passed out, but for some reason both of us were awake. I lay on his chest and looked at the stars above us. His hand brushed my arm. He did it unconsciously when he was thinking about something.

“Why did you let Shaffer in?” I asked.

“Because I’m a selfish bastard.”

I glanced at him, raising my eyebrows. He smiled.