Pia Saves the Day (Elder Races #6.6)(27)

Tapping his talons on the stone, he considered that. Playing a game. Yes, he could understand that.

Rising up on his haunches, the dragon crawled over to her, bringing his head down until his snout came close to her face.

“I snapped at you,” he whispered.

She cupped his snout and smiled up into his gaze. “I’m drawing a line right now. We have to agree to get over that. I know you’re dangerous. I’ve always known you were dangerous. I was not naive about your nature when I mated with you the first time, and I am certainly not naive about it now. You never broke faith with me. You would never hurt me. What you did when you were injured and you couldn’t recognize me is not anything we are going to worry about again.”

A sense of peace threatened to take away his bad mood. He whuffled at her.

“I’m not ever going to be a good man,” he warned.

She pressed a kiss to his snout. “We talked about that once, and I told you then—maybe you’re not a good man, but you make a truly excellent dragon.”

He muttered, “Maybe over time I can make peace with that other Dragos.”

“If you give it a serious try, I think you’ll be surprised at how well you do.” She lifted a shoulder. “And if you can’t adjust, maybe we’ll go somewhere else and do other things. We’re going to live a long time together, and things change.”

The last of his tension eased away. Heaving an immense sigh, he shapeshifted and laid his head in her lap. She stroked her fingers through his hair, and for the first time since the accident, he fell into a truly deep, restful sleep.

* * *

The sun traveled across a blue, cloudless sky as Dragos slept.

After a while, she grew sleepy too, until finally she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, and she nodded off, her hands laced protectively over the back of his head.

Sometime later, he began to stir, and she came awake with a jerk. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. They had dozed the afternoon away.

After nuzzling her thighs, he yawned and rolled onto his back. She gave him a smile as she flicked bits of grass off his skin.

He never got sunburned, no matter how long he stayed out in the sun. Instead, the dark bronze of his skin grew more burnished and rich. After a moment, all the bits of grass were gone and she gave up on that small excuse to touch him and simply stroked his bare chest.

He watched her, his expression more peaceful than it had been in some time. It would always break her heart a little to look at the new white, jagged scar on his brow. She touched it with a finger, swallowing hard.

He’s mated with me, she thought, not once, but twice.

I am so lucky. I am the luckiest woman in the world.

The smile she gave him twisted, because it was simply too small of a gesture to contain the enormity of the emotions inside her.

“I love you, you know,” she told him.

He cocked a sleek, black eyebrow at her. Coincidentally enough, it was the same brow that now carried the scar. “You surely must, woman.”

She chuckled. “Yeah.”

Stomach muscles flexing, he sat up and twisted to give her a lingering kiss. “One of the craziest things that has been running through my head,” he muttered, “is how goddamned jealous I’ve been of that other Dragos.”

She put her arms around his neck. “Maybe I tried too soon to make you feel better about him. I could have used the threat of him to keep you under control.”

Maybe that wasn’t a very funny joke, but she was pleased with the effort. Every time they talked, every joke, every revelation, meant they put one more step between them and what had happened.

He must have agreed because he smiled briefly against her lips. Putting a hand at the back of her head, he deepened the kiss, and it escalated swiftly—a hot, explosive flash fire of emotion.

Coming up on his knees, his face taut and flushed with need, he yanked her clothes off. She was a willing participant, wriggling out of her top before he could figure out the complexities of undoing the buttons.

When he kicked off his jean shorts, his hardened penis bounced as it came free of the material. He pulled her down onto the grass and covered her with his body.

They could find time for foreplay and finesse later. Much later, after the first wave of the mating urge eased, or perhaps, for her, after the memory of the fear and pain over the last two days faded.

They weren’t there yet. For now, he took her in a blaze of heat, and they coupled like the animals they were. Words tangled with motion, and it all became one thing.

I love you, love you.

I’ll never let you go. You’re mine. You’re my mate.

They burned each other out, until at last they could rest quietly in each other’s arms.

At last, he pulled away from her. She watched as he went to the pile of wrapped gold and jewels. Unceremoniously, he dumped the sapphires into her pack, took the cloth that the jewels had been wrapped in and dampened it at the spring.

When he returned, he washed the inside of her thighs gently. She stroked his arm as he did it, marveling at his intent expression. Sometimes he wanted so desperately to get something right, the sight of it shot like an arrow right through her.

After he finished, they dressed. The sky was darkening by the time they packed the rest of his treasure into the pack. He shifted back into his dragon form, invited her into the curve of his paw, and after she had settled comfortably, they flew back to the estate.