Page 40 of Owen

His eyes lit up. “You can’t mean—”

“I do.” I looked to Mary, whose face filled the monitor in front of me. “What do you think?”

She adjusted her glasses and smoothed back her prim, gray bun. “I think it may be time for me to send backup. I mean no offense, but there might be quite a bit more working against you out there than we bargained for. I hope you have the extra room for a handful of lion shifters.”

Lion shifters. Why not?

When I returned to my bedroom, my head spinning a bit at the thought of even more shifters to contend with—not to mention the Gwydions, who were quite enough on their own—I expected to find my mate waiting as I’d left her.

Spread out on the bed, dead to the world, without a stitch of clothing.

Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap, fully dressed and all but glowing in anticipation. “Well? Can we go flying now?”

* * *

“Oh, that was exhilarating!”I was still so excited from the flight on my mate’s—my dragon mate’s—back.

I reminded myself that he was part dragon, part man, but all mine.

He held me close to his warm, firm, unforgiving body.

And when his long fingers hooked into claws as he ran them over my back, I imagined his real claws raking over my skin, and it didn’t scare me. Flying together as we had, that had removed all my fears.

I didn’t push him away. I melted against him, instead, and my body responded. Nipples tightening, back arching, and a deep, wet heat building in my core.

“Yes…” I whispered just before his mouth closed over mine and we were back where we left off hours earlier. I yearned to indulge myself in feeling his firm, rippling muscles under my hands.

He was so beautiful and perfect, and he was all mine. I kept reminding myself that he was all mine, and he wanted me, and I could let myself stop worrying or thinking or feeling anything but sweet, burning pleasure. We would solve the mysteries, all of us combined. And we would live happily ever after, without fear from anyone that hunted the witches or the dragons.

It raced through me in little tongues of fire, lighting me up from the inside while Owen’s tongue slid into my mouth.

I tilted my head back and sighed, eyes closing, and the groan from deep in his throat made my core tighten deliciously.

His mouth moved lower, to my chest, his tongue licking and swirling.

I arched my back to press my body closer to him, moaning as he closed over one of my aching nipples.

“Beautiful,” he panted as he lapped at them, making me smile and squirm and writhe.

I had never felt anything like it before. Not just pleasure, though the pleasure was overwhelming. It was knowing the perfect, beautiful man on top of me was moving with me, groaning and grunting because of the taste of my body and the sound of the pleasure he stimulated in me.

My pleasure turned him on. It made the dragon just underneath the surface growl. I wanted his dragon, and that surprised me.

His hands slid over my hips. His fingers dug into my flesh.

I parted my legs, and he growled louder.

I watched as he ran the sides of his face along the insides of my thighs, letting his lips touch my most intimate places, and the primal nature of it made me growl the way he did.

My hips rose up from the bed in response to his mouth was enough. He was there to pleasure me and to take pleasure in me. That was enough.

His breath came in short, hard bursts as he went on and on, licking and tasting and digging his fingers into my thighs, holding me down when I threatened to buck him off and when I climaxed, going rigid all over, he waited until I finished before running his tongue over the insides of my thighs.

He was barely holding his dragon back—it was obvious—nipping at my sensitive skin and growling, breathing hard and heavy.

I looked down, and he looked up at me. His eyes took my breath away, glowing in the dimness of the semi-dark room.

My heart raced faster than ever. I spread my legs wider.

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