Page 24 of Kenna's Dragon

“Just a little ember, aren’t you?” he says in a rough whisper. “Ready to spark a flame and burn me to ash.”

I don’t know what he means, but he buries a hand into my hair as he speaks, wrapping my curls around his fist. The expression on his face is almost pained.

Still, when he drags my face back to his, kisses me rough and deep, it’s not hesitation I taste. No, it’s want and need and sex. It’s dark spice and the faintest hint of smoke, hot and stirring and altogether too tempting.

His other hand splays over my ass, lifting me up onto the desk. Blair knocks my knees apart with one of his thick thighs and steps between them, using the hold he has on my hair to tip my head back and deepen the kiss.

God, it’s good. Maybe the best kiss I’ve ever had. Blair is demanding, relentless, not giving me anywhere to hide as he plunders me. He’s taken total control and I don’t mind it for a second. I melt into him like my body already knows how right this is, how easy, how good it would feel to let go and burn with him completely.

Between us, the hard, insistent press of his erection bulges against the fitted gray slacks he’s wearing. When the position I’m in has my dress sliding higher on my thighs, he presses himself deeper between them.

I moan at the contact, bucking my hips and straining into him. He pushes right back, breaking our kiss to look down and watch himself grind into me. When he meets my gaze again, his gold eyes are nearly glowing with excitement, but whatever it is he sees on my own lust-hazed face makes those fires dim.

“Kenna,” he whispers, reaching up to curl a hand around my jaw, brushing his thumb over my tender bottom lip. “I’m—”

“If you saysorry, so help me god, I’ll—”

“Fine,” he says roughly. “I’m not sorry. But this is… not the best place to be doing this.”

Shit. Right. We’re at the Paranormal Citizens Relations Bureau. In the Director’s office.

Funny, how easy it was to forget that.

Especially when Blair’s still standing between my thighs with his hard-on pressed against me.

My face flushes with shame and embarrassment, and he steps back. I follow, hopping down from the desk and tugging my dress back into place.

“Do you have a mirror somewhere?”

He moves silently to a door at the side of the room and opens it, revealing a coat closet with a mirror inside. Walking over to stand in front of it, a small, pained whimper slips out of me.

I’m a mess. Hair a tangled nest, lips red and kiss-swollen. Blair’s still standing behind me, and when I meet his eyes in the mirror, they’re burning again. He looks away quickly and crosses to his desk.

“I think I have a comb in here.”

He hands it over, and I spend the next couple minutes silently, awkwardly trying to fix myself up. The mindless haze is receding, and shame is creeping up to take its place.

This is exactly what I didn’t need to happen.

Blair’s still hovering in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets, not doing anything, not saying anything. The tense silence stretches on long enough that I want to jump out of my skin.

How did I fuck this up so spectacularly?

This job, this opportunity, it was all supposed to be the chance I needed to grow up a little, stop pulling shit like this. Yet here I am.

Only this time, it feels worse. It feels bigger and more dangerous, something that might send my whole life up in flames if I’m not careful. Because even now, even when I’m choked with the self-loathing of it all, I’m still aware of him.Tooaware of him. Skin humming, body aching, mouth swollen and tingling with the taste of Ewan Blair.

“Kenna,” Blair says, voice tight and hesitant. “I—”

“I need to get back to my desk. This was… let’s just forget it, alright? No more kidnapping, and we’ll be square?”

I’m letting him off the hook when I shouldn’t be, but I truly, truly can’t deal with this right now. I shouldn’t be doing this. Not with him. Not here. Not when I finally have the chance to be someone different than I’ve always been.

I can't reason any of this out, not when my heart’s still racing and my mind feels fuzzy and empty. Not when my pussy is damp and aching for him, and when part of me wants nothing more than to launch myself at him and get another taste.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I paste the widest, brightest smile I’m able to summon onto my face. “Sound good?”

“If that’s what you want, Kenna.”

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