Page 33 of Fence

“Powerful creatures have the power to do a lot of things,” he pointed out.

“Powerful creatures. Like whom?”

A shrug. “We don’t know yet, but it would take a considerable amount of power to take down a dragon clan.”

I could hardly make my lips bend to create the words. “Witches? Wizards? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Perhaps. It’s most definitely possible.”

“My God.” I leaned my head against the back of the sofa, face toward the ceiling. It got worse with every new piece of information he revealed. Witches and wizards. They weren’t just for Halloween and gamers anymore.

He sat beside me, taking the chance of drawing me close. I let him. After everything we’d talked about over those long, bleak hours, there was an intimacy between us that transcended everything else. It felt natural, being close to him then. I rested my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes as his arms slid around me. A sigh escaped my lips before I had the chance to hold it back—not a sigh of passion, but of relief.

“I would never let anything happen to you. I need you to know that.”

“I do,” I murmured, eyes still closed. He smelled wonderful. The heartbeat under my ear was strong and reassuring. He was there. With me. He wouldn’t let any harm come to me. I could count on him. The rhythm of his heart lulled me into relaxation, and my muscles loosened for the first time in hours. I realized adrenaline was mostly responsible for keeping me alert up to that point. True, bone-deep exhaustion was speeding toward me like an express train. I saw it in the distance, bearing down.

“I’m sorry for all of this. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to hear.” His lips were warm and tender against the top of my head, and that was good, too. So right. So necessary.

“I don’t understand any of it, still. But I want to. I do.” I craned my neck to look up into his eyes, which were looking down at me with an expression I’d never seen before from a man. If I had to put my finger on it, I’d call it desire mixed with protectiveness. He ran the side of his hand over my cheek, and a slight tremor raced from that spot straight down my spine.

“I want you,” he murmured.

There was an edge to his voice, the hint of something other than himself. A deeper growl somewhere in the background. Another tremor, this one making me clutch him a little harder as my body responded. I grasped in vain for something to say, but the gentle brush of his fingertips across my lips stopped me.

“I don’t mean right now, right here. Well, all right, maybe I do mean it,” he chuckled darkly, “but it’s not right yet. Not until you’re sure you want me, too.”

“I do,” I whispered, urgent, not caring when what was left of my logical mind screamed at me to take a cold shower and reassess the situation. I was talking to a dragon, for God’s sake. Locked in the arms of a dragon. I had no idea what it meant to be with somebody like him.

But I wanted to find out.

He only shook his head. “Not yet. You’ll understand why. Besides, I didn’t mean I only wanted your body—though that would be enough,” he added, raising one eyebrow and letting his voice lower to a seductive growl that sent a wave of heat through me. “I want all of you. Your mind and your humor and your kindness. All of you.”

“Even my clumsiness?”

He smiled. “Even that. I couldn’t have you without it, I guess. And I like having an excuse to keep catching you.”

It was all surreal, something I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t dreaming. Yet even though my intellect told me things like this didn’t happen, my heart knew better. Our breath mingled as he leaned closer, and I closed my eyes just before he gave me what I didn’t even know I had been craving.

His lips were gentle, soft, but only for that first brief moment of contact. I leaned into the kiss, and that was all he seemed to need. His arms tightened, his mouth pressed against mine with urgent need.

My fingers sank into his thick hair, holding his head close as passion flared dangerously hot, almost hot enough to scare me a little because I had never, ever felt so close to the edge of sanity.

There was nothing sane about what was happening to us, and I didn’t care. I loved it. I wanted more. I moaned when his tongue swept the inside of my mouth, and his deep groan stirred an even deeper heat between my thighs. I was so ready to give myself to him. I slid one leg over his, and he took my thigh in his big, capable hand.

“Wait,” he breathed, pulled back. “I don’t think I can take much more of this without taking it too far.”

I almost pouted and whimpered like a disappointed little girl. But he was right. There was something he was waiting for, and we clearly hadn’t hit that point yet, so it was best that we stop before there was no stopping. I touched my forehead to his shoulder, breathless.

“You really should try to sleep,” he whispered, stroking my back. Even that sweet, gentle touch made my nerves jump and sizzle.

“Will you stay with me?”

“I told you I would.”

“No.” I looked him in the eye. “I mean, stay with me. Not on the couch.”

“I don’t know if I can trust myself, being in bed with you.” He stroked my cheek, my chin, swept his thumb over my lips.

---