Page 44 of Ronen
Ronen swung his leg off me, standing between my stretched out leg and the unhurt one I had planted firmly on the floor. His fingers made quick work on the button of his slacks, before him slowly lowering the zipper had me forgetting how to breathe.
He stopped what I was hoping was going to be a slow striptease to toe off his shoes. Inch by inch, his skin was revealed, as he pushed his pants down, snagging his underwear in the process. His legs were surprisingly art free. Stepping out of them, he kicked them to the side, standing tall and naked in front of me, his long, slender cock hard and erect.
The air was humid between us, scented with the sweet smell of his slick, and my mouth watered thinking about how he would taste.
His cock was nestled in a patch of neatly trimmed dark curls, his hip bones sharply pointed, his flanks lean. His legs were long and slender, but well muscled and shapely, and his thighs were supple.
And halfway over one hip bone was a red and magenta scaled tail of…something I couldn’t see the rest of.
Twirling my finger in a circle, I roughly whispered, “Turn around for me.”
Ronen turned, presenting me with his slender back and well-rounded buttocks. He’d produced enough slick that the bottom curve of his ass and the tops of his thighs were shiny with it.
All of that was forgotten for an instant as I drank in the sight of his back.
Leaning forward, I stared at it, blinking as I took it all in. Stunned, yet excited.
This had to mean something. Something significant and important. Something destined. Something that was meant to be.
My fingertips nearly shook as I trailed them over his soft skin, tracing the inked lines that covered the expanse of his back. The tattoo was stunning, covering the width of his shoulders and the line of his spine, spreading across his sides and stopping just above the crack of his ass. The colors were a beautiful blend of lilacs and eggplant, merging into magenta and several different shades of red.
The dragon's wide head rested at the top of Ronen’s left shoulder, the wings spread in flight across the width of his back.One finger traced the tail where it wrapped around his right side, disappearing around to the front of his hip bone.
Ronen peeked at me over the shoulder where the dragon’s head rested, his deep green eyes watching me, his expression indiscernible.
Ronen Sinclair was a mystery I intended to read from cover to end. He was like the best whodunit story there was, where every page sent you down a different path and kept you guessing until the very last word.
“Why a dragon?” My voice was gravelly to my own ears, rough and raw.
He shrugged, turning back around to face me. “Just picked it. Dragons are super popular, according to Charlie.”
“Don’t do that,” I demanded, and his eyes narrowed at my tone.
Shaking my head, I growled, “Don’t act like that piece of art on your back,” I traced the tail with a trembling finger, “and front was a whim. This had to have taken an incredible amount of time.”
Not to mention patience as well as pain.
He shivered beneath my touch, but he never broke eye contact. Finally, he gave a little shrug. “It’s just something I’ve dreamed of for years. This dragon, he shows up in my dreams. Has since I was a kid. I drew it and Charlie inked me. It’s an ongoing project; it’s still not finished. Obviously.” He looked away briefly before catching my gaze. “I can’t figure out his eyes. In my dreams, he never flies close enough for me to see their color. We’re leaving them for last.”
Tell him, my dragon screamed, agitated and anxious.
Not yet. Not until we can trust him. We don’t even know if he wants this, wants us.
Staring at the tattoo, the thought that this meant something beyond us hit me again, and I bit my lower lip, fighting the urge to scream it to the heavens. To Ronen. To make him see that this thing between us, it was meant to be.
Fate had been working her magic long before I had ever walked into that library.
Ronen moved with a grace and fluid ease I hadn’t expected, as he sank to his knees between my own, his hands running up my bare thighs, making me shiver with raw need.
His hands lightly caressed my stomach, before tugging at the waistband of my shorts. And when he eased my thick cock out, pushed them down my hips, I raised my butt so he could pull them off me.
He was surprisingly gentle as he eased the leg hole over my booted foot, glancing back at me with what almost looked like concern in his eyes.
“Is your foot going to be okay, if we do this?” he asked, back on his knees in front of my throbbing cock.
At that point, my ankle could have been hanging onto the rest of my leg by a thread, and my answer would have still been, “It’ll be fine.”
Spreading my legs wider, I stared down at his dark head bent between my thighs, his hair wildly messy. His breath ghosted over my throbbing cock, and another full body shiver raced through my burning body.
