Page 29 of Rook
Sasha's hands roamed over his back, feeling the play of muscles under her palms as he began to move. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing through her veins. The sound of their breathing, ragged and desperate, filled the small space. The scent of them together, sweat and sex and something almost like smoke, made her dizzy. The taste of him lingered on her lips, spice and heat. Every sense was overwhelmed, consumed by him, by them, by this moment that felt both impossible and inevitable.
Her body responded to his as if they'd done this a thousand times before, finding a rhythm that built and built until she was clinging to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Rook's movements grew more urgent, more desperate, his control finally slipping. His forehead pressed against hers, his eyes locked with hers, golden and burning with something that looked like worship.
She felt the tension building again, that sweet pressure at the base of her spine. Rook's hand slipped between them, his thumb finding that perfect spot, and she shattered again, crying out his name. Her body clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and he followed her over the edge with a roar that was more dragon than man, his hips stuttering against hers as he found his release.
It was perfect. So perfect Sasha was pretty sure she was dreaming. Then Rook said the words no girl wants to hear while her body was still rippling with pleasure.
"There's something I have to tell you."
16
From the wary look on his mate's face, Rook suspected he had said something wrong.
A languid satisfaction still thrummed through his body, his muscles loose and heavy with pleasure. His skin felt hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive in the aftermath of their joining. The taste of her lingered on his tongue, sweet and addictive.
Her scent surrounded him, a heady mix of arousal and something uniquely Sasha that made his dragon purr with contentment. He wanted to pull her back against his chest, to feel her heartbeat against his ribs, to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in until she was part of him. The urge to mark her, to claim her completely, pulsed beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. Mine, his dragon whispered. Finally, utterly mine.
But going any further without telling her the truth felt like a lie. He shouldn't have taken her like this without saying. She deserved to know.
He had crossed the galaxy and found her. He refused to lose her from simply misspeaking.
Oh, the Royal Matchmaker would be laughing at him now. He'd stormed out of her office, determined to never let fate interfere.
And now …
Sasha scooped his shirt off the floor and pulled it on, crossing her arms under her breasts.
Satisfaction rippled through him at the sight of her in his clothes. The black fabric swallowed her small frame, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips, the hem hitting mid-thigh. She looked claimed, marked as his in the most primitive way possible. His scent would cling to her skin now, a subtle announcement to any other male who came near that she was taken. Protected. His. The possessive heat that flared in his chest was so intense it took his breath away.
"If you're going to tell me this was a mistake, just say something already," Sasha snapped.
"What? No! I wouldn't—" But he had. Days ago, after that kiss. The things he'd said then were dishonorable. He'd rejected Sasha because he could feel the undeniable pull between them.
He wasn't denying it any longer.
"Either talk or put pants on, Rook."
Right.
He sat on the edge of the bed and tried not to feel disappointed when Sasha moved farther towards the wall to put space between them. She was fully sitting up now and looking at him like he might eat her.
Not like that.
"I told you that my fire could not harm you." It was best to start with the basics.
"Yes …" Sasha had drawn her knees up to her chest, making herself as small as possible in the narrow space. Her shoulders were rigid, every muscle coiled like she was ready to bolt. But there was nowhere to go. His bulk blocked the only exit from the sleeping alcove, and she'd have to climb over him to escape. Her eyes darted from his face to the door and back again, calculating. The wariness in her green gaze made his chest ache.
"I didn't tell you why."
"I noticed that," she grumbled.
He wanted to kiss her right then. He had a feeling she might bite him if he tried.
"I need you to trust me. Put your hands out."
"Rook …"
"Please." He would lay down his life for her, his very soul. But he needed her to do this, to understand.
